Tuesday 25 November 2014

#14 - "Mating With the Raptor" by Christie Sims

Erotica Scaled Up
 (1/10)

by 
HotBot

(book chosen by group consensus)




Editors' note: After author Laura May requested us to write a review of her book, Pickles and Ponies, the Piece of Shit Book Club agreed to do so on condition that she write a review of a book of our choice. Last week, we wrote a review of her book, and now its her turn. And here is that book, the too-hot-for-John-Hammond dino-rotica classic Mating With the Raptor. So light some candles, put on that Barry White album, spread some rose petals on the bed, and get ready to uncover some dino bones. .



Warning 1: Don’t read this review if you plan on ever getting aroused again. Or if you plan on reading the book, because, you know, spoilers.
Warning 2, for the persistent few: The review has quotations.
Caveat to Warning 2: But none of the ones that made me dry heave. Consider yourselves lucky that I’m sheltering you from that.
Bestiality seems to be in at the moment, and I can’t understand why. There’s werewolf (and every other type of shape shifter) porn, where people are apparently down with getting naked with men. Who are wolves. Who sometimes turn into wolves mid-coitus. And proceed to enjoy some kind of body fluid bukkake party (I’m looking at you, Anita Blake).
This book is not shape-shifter erotica. ‘Raptor’ is not a pseudonym. This is the tale of a woman having sex with an actual live dinosaur. After the trauma of reading it, which involved both the aforementioned dry heaving and a significant amount of crying in horror, I’m here to review it for you with a stiff drink in hand. (Oh god. Oh god no. Too soon on the word ‘stiff’.)
I just looked up ‘velociraptor’ on Wikipedia and am crying again. That’s how horrifying this book is. I think I have PTSD. Anyway, apparently the authors didn’t do any research, as they would have realised that raptors were around thigh-height (or genital-height, if you’re talking about dinosaurs going down on you, which we are). As such I’m assuming they’re talking about raptors á la Jurassic Park, so kindly imagine the lead raptor from the film making sweet love to you. No wait—don’t do that.
In the name of journalistic (bloggeristic?) integrity, I’ve had a quick look at velociraptors’ bone structure, and I’m not altogether convinced that they’re capable of (a) picking someone up and carrying them away with them or (b) thrusting. And that is a plot point, people.
I’ve also conducted research into velociraptors’ sex lives, because again, integrity. Unfortunately, modern science does not seem to know the precise size nor shape of velociraptors’ ‘vagina miners’, and there’s nothing about how long they might have lasted in bed (though this article has some ideas). Luckily, Sims and Branwen are here to fill in the blanks.
The story starts out with Marga, some kind of priestess-cum-queen (sorry) of a village set in an indeterminate time period, when advanced humans and dinosaurs coexisted. She lives in a hut “draped with elk skins and gold medallion curtains”, and has recently attained her privileged role thanks to her mother’s retirement. Her main duties are supervising the protection of the village against ever-advancing dinosaur hordes, and producing an heir. Unfortunately, Marga isn’t attracted to any of her warriors. She had a hasty affair with one, but Marga “left with little sense of satisfaction”. There’s one man she’s almost resigned herself to settling down with, but despite the redeeming qualities of his “tan arms”, there’s just something missing. As it turns out, that ‘something’ is literal dinosaur dick.
We hear a lot about Marga as a person, and despite myself, I started enjoying the book. I do love dinosaurs, after all, and the writing isn’t appalling. I’m even starting to emote with the character. Surely, surely there’s not actually going to be any raptor-on-woman action coming up? (Coming. Up.) We hear about her bow—“When she was given her mother’s protection bow, it all began to make sense. The way her hand fit into the grip made her feel as though she was holding the hands of all of her female ancestors at once, and her shots became increasingly steady.” She cares for her mother, asking a friend to make sure that “you get more gumroot from town and plenty of mineral water [to give to mommy dear, who is presumably not into cretaceous cock].” This woman is written like an actual person, which serves to make what transpires all the more horrifying.
Marga goes to inspect an outpost, thinking about a raptor, “its big claws erect”. Then—what do you know—raptors attack! Our heroine takes a moment, “hopeful that the raptors weren’t hunting for food, but rather sensing a mate… Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing where the desired female might be.” I think we have some idea about that last part (insert dramatic foreshadowing here).
Things go awry shortly after this: there’s a detailed battle scene, warriors are killed, and Marga is carried off by a raptor, cradled in its scaly arms. Definitely not ‘cuddled’ though. There’s none of that soft stuff in this book.
Marga wakes up in a nest, the raptor grunting at her. It comes to investigate, whereupon Marga “looked down, and noticed the heavy green pouch hanging between the raptor’s legs… Her mouth gaped when she saw a pink mass emerge from it.” (At this point in reading I was somewhere between denial and fear.) Suddenly, the raptor “began to move his hips towards her, punching the air with his swollen member that glistened in the light of the cave. In that instant, Marga understood, though the reality was hard to grasp… The thought disgusted and terrified her” (Sounds like Marga was going through pretty much the same things I was.)
I am not going to make you live through what follows, though I don’t think I’ll ever be able to erase the images from my mind—or watch Jurassic Park again. But I do need to share this sentence with you. This horrible, horrible sentence: “[it was] filling the space between her legs with a fullness she’d never experienced before.”
After disengaging then a solid licking out by the raptor, Marga starts to enjoy herself. She felt “instant bliss as the firmness worked across her”. Then “Wetness fanned out from her womanhood” (this is a sentence that should never be used under any circumstances, let alone with regard to dino-rotica). A couple of sessions of dry heaving later, I moved past ‘horror’ to full-blown hysteria, and was amazed to find that the raptor’s prehistoric penis was perfectly shaped to stimulate this woman’s g-spot. So what men of her own species weren't able to do, this raptor was delivering on. Tempted, anybody?
At this point I should probably mention that at no point can you forget that this woman is having sex with a dinosaur. Every sentence not describing the effects of the sauropod’s sausage was detailing its scales, its arms, its claws as they grasped her leather bodice. There’s no forgetting. There’s no escape!
Marga has a couple of orgasms, then as the raptor gets closer, he “becomes animalistic.” Because being an actual animal was apparently not animalistic enough.
I’m giving this book a 1/10: the part before the scaly sex wasn’t awful. The horror of what followed, though. The horror. *Shudder*
Before I start running head-first at walls to try and give myself retrograde amnesia, I’ll leave you with one last quote: “[Marga] wondered what this might mean about her. Would any normal woman enjoy a raptor filling her like that?”
Well, Marga, wonder no more—the answer is a resounding fucking “NO."
I will never describe myself as ‘loving dinosaurs’ ever, ever again.





25/11/2014

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