Confinement, contagion, contamination….truly the stuff of horror…but far from a sexy start so please bear with me.  And you WILL be rewarded.  Happy Halloween one and all.  I think we can all agree this year has been scary and sinister enough.  When considering  my spooky journal entry, the sobering state of our world reminded me of one of my favourite Gothic tales by Edgar Allan Poe.

It’s 1842, and The Red Death – a deadly and gruesome plague has fallen upon the land.  For the carefree Prince Prospero and  his aristocratic  friends, their lockdown comes with comfort and luxury behind the opulent walls of his castellated Abbey.

What to do during such testing times? After months of baking banana bread and Zoom-calling pretty Princesses, the Prince decides to throw a magnificent masquerade ball.  As part of this decadent celebration, each of the seven rooms of his Abbey is decorated in a different vivid colour; blue, purple, green, orange, white, and violet.

The final room is swathed in heavy black velvet and illuminated with a blood red light which streams through a stained-glass window.  A gigantic ebony clock, which chimes ominously and deafeningly on the hour, stands imperiously as the centrepiece of this chilling space.  

At the stroke of midnight, a mysterious ghoulish figure shrouded in blood-red robes appears.  It passes silently through the rooms. In hot pursuit, the angry host demands to know the identity of this gruesome gate-crasher.  But its not until the seventh room that the figure finally turns to face him.  A scream echoes throughout the Abbey and the Prince falls down dead.  One-by-one the guests too succumb to the gruesome symptoms of the plague before falling to the same ghastly fate. The Red Death has infiltrated the castle and Darkness and Decay have triumphed.

Happy ever afterlife indeed.  But we can’t have such morbid horrors lingering too long in our minds here.  I want to tell you a similar story….With a ‘happy ending’ indeed.

Mine is a tale of an un-masked ball, in fact NO MASKS are allowed in any shape or form.  Lips have never looked sweeter or more enticing.  However, after months of social-distancing everyone is shy and the poor dance-floor lies empty.

As the clock strikes midnight, a mysterious cloaked figure appears. Her heels are divine, and her sleek outfit is simply bewitching.  As she casts her feline eyes over the lacklustre gathering, she’s appalled by the less than voracious celebrations.  So with a sharp crack of her whip she casts a spell…an alluring aphrodisiac where inhibitions melt like the wax of the flickering tallows.

No one can resist the lure of this erotic enchantment or the siren call of their awakening senses. After months of denial, the guests suddenly find themselves drunk with desire.

Corks pop and champagne flows. A bacchanal of carnal pleasures erupts and the room overflows with sensual delights and indulgences.

Gowns fall to the floor, and skin shimmers with perspiration. Groans of gratification echo throughout like an exquisite orchestral arrangement.

With every chime of the clock, the intensity increases.  So by the time the sun rises, every inch of the Abbey is heaving with a veritable banquette of hot bodies.

And me, the Mistress of ceremonies holds court over this orgasmic orgy, revelling in the licentious delights and intervening should any wallflowers need a little extra ‘encouragement’.

So this Halloween, I want kinky tricks and delicious treats.  I want a deluge of hedonistic pursuits, free from the rigours of social distancing.  Give me proximity and give me pleasure.  And keep them coming.  Or else.