Faceless Strangers
The Wendy House: Introduction
The Love That Dares Not Speak…
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Please note that “The Wendy House” does not feature any spooky-sexy dolls lurking in a haunted playhouse. There may be stranger disclaimers for some of the introductions to come, but not by much: some readers were so fond of the supernatural Dreadful Desires tales, and disappointed by the Scooby-Doo twist in this one, that the twist deserves a mention.
What it features instead is an erotica theme I’ve been reluctant to dive into: a night of improbable and desperately consummated passion shared between two (or, really, rather more than two…) schoolgirls.
Sapphic erotica sometimes has a history of being presented from a male gaze perspective, using a veneer of progressive enlightenment to offer cover for leering fascination. Joss Whedon once joked that he wrote Willow and Tara’s relationship on Buffy the Vampire Slayer based on his profound commitment to the positive portrayal of hot girl-on-girl action, and, in light of his scandals since, that now sounds more confessional than ironic.
What it features instead is an erotica theme I’ve been reluctant to dive into: a night of improbable and desperately consummated passion shared between two (or, really, rather more than two…) schoolgirls.
On the other hand, what’s the purpose of erotica if not to safely explore all our secret erotic fascinations? What’s the difference between that and a “leering fascination” so long as the latter is a respectful fantasy rather than an objectifying fetish? If the thought of two women together — and there really is, I think, more aesthetic beauty to be found in the soft curves of the feminine ideal than the rough angles of the masculine, though that’s undoubtedly a matter of opinion and cultural bias — happens to capture someone’s erotic imagination, maybe that’s not a bad thing.
Beatrice and Lily’s emotionally tangled rivalry, set in the days of the London Blitz when their mutual attraction hardly had a word to call itself, much less a healthy form of expression, reaches its boiling point in the gloomy darkness of a supposedly haunted playhouse behind their school, with only those dolls to watch and keep the secret of what unfolds between the two of them. As for what it is that unfolds, I doubt my dignity would fare any better than Beatrice’s. An unexpected three-on-one seduction that no one will ever know about is an almost irresistible prospect…
I hope you enjoy this vintage tale of schoolgirl rivalries and repressed desires in the shadows of the Second World War, whether their relationship is one you can relate to, or can empathize with, or even if it’s just that they’re beautiful young women who spend a good deal of the story sweaty, disheveled, and devoid of clothes. That frenzy of carnal abandon and rebellion against the taboo is something I think most of us have craved in some way, and it lies at the very heart of the erotica genre.
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