50 Shapes

I hadn't anticipated the length of it. Stiff, unyielding and just the right fit; it slipped into place and filled the hole perfectly. Everything melted away as she smiled slyly to herself, instantly satisfied.

So, I've been writing erotic Tetris fiction.

There've been some long hours in work, undulating waves of customers. Peaks and troughs in the number of demanding voices has led to semi-regular periods of dead air. Waiting dutifully for another opportunity to use our pleasant and helpful manner to bring about joy in the lives of our high-brow customers- there have been Sirs, Ladies, and I even served a Sheriff....but I did not serve the Deputy (credit to Mini Coop)- has sometimes not been enough to distract us from the silent expectation. Thus, a rampant Tetris addiction has taken hold of some. A bit more Tetris Typhoid than a mere fever, the competition has been fierce, if a little uneven....like some of the stacks. Yet the severity of addiction has bled into other areas of my world. My mind's been awash with it. And thus, I shall present further extracts from my forthcoming novel.

From the best selling author of "Blake Hardcastle: Child Persuader" and the acclaimed follow up, "Blake Hardastle is: Conspiculously Absent" comes a dramatic shift in direction:

50 Shapes of Tetris

Melody Block, an aspiring engineer fresh out of university, comes under the tutelage of the reclusive Maximillian Hoight, a gifted but troubled structural integrity expert with dark desires and a dangerous allure. Slowly, she comes to find herself entangled in his web of depraved Tetris manoeuvres, like a T-shaped piece in a world of squares. Before she knows it, she finds her career climbing into the stratosphere, but fears reaching the ceiling of the damned; Max toying with her, as may a gifted player acting as the puppet-master to his massing pieces.

"Hesitantly, she entered the office, her every footstep cacophonous against his marble floor. She sat, in awe of the stacks of books that sat serene and unmoving on his immaculate mohogany shelves. This man was all she had heard he may be. A bead of sweat rolled from her brow, as may a tractor through a field of rabid sheep. And then she saw him, crouched awkwardly beneath his desk. To know one's gaps, one must embrace the absence of space. She slowly extended her hand to meet his, now outstretched from beneath, his hand twisting lithely, effortlessly into position. He was all that she had heard he could be."

" 'Not so hastily. No!' he hissed, an anguished expression betraying the pain this failure was bringing him.
'I'm not....it's....sabotage!' she screamed, pressing her hand firmly on the button to make the pieces fall quicker, bringing forward her inevitable failure.
'I will teach you.' "

"He lowered his L piece into her gap, slowly at first, then quicker as his impatience began to grow. As the music built to a crescendo, she groaned with delight, the line disappearing before her eyes."

"He rotated furiously, interlocking the Z pieces expertly. Yet she was amazed at how quickly things came to a climax, the stacks rising with their passion. And then, they could stack no further."

" 'Closer', she groaned breathlessly, '....pivot! Pivot!....pih....vuh....tuh....'
At once he took her in his arms and whispered softly, yet with a force that shook her:
'I cannot. It's a square.' "
             -----------------------------------------------------------

Critical reception to this latest work has been somewhat mixed, to say the least.

"Finally, a literary piece to cater to the needs of awkward female Nintendo enthusiasts."- Some guy.

"The fuck is....Why? Why would anyone read this? Why would anyone write this!?"- Everybody else.


Pretty sure I'm writing the new Bible here, kids.