Saturday Story 2025 #34 (Ava the Alluring)
Something new today. You can find it on my Patreon. Synopsis below:
A tantalizing woman who has always dreamed of being a siren, is asked by a friend of hers to seduce a magnate. This is a spiritual sequel to Brianna the Bitch.
It underwent many revisions since the first draft to make it different enough from that first story while expanding the shared universe between them. At first, it felt like I was just writing Brianna all over again, so I had to change both the flow and the feel of the tale because Ava is a different character and does things differently.
I have an idea for a potential third tale entitled Phoebe the Perfectionist. We’ll see if anything comes of it or not. Please enjoy.
To read this story before anyone else, head over to my Patreon page and become Spell… B-O-U-N-D, too. The minimum pledge for this type of early access is $5 per month.
https://www.patreon.com/posts/137739502
An excerpt is available below:
When Ava Malloy was seven years old and her grandmother – may she rest in peace! – asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she replied: “a siren”.
The answer came to her instantly because she had recently finished flipping through a dog-eared compendium of Greek gods and monsters, and was enamored by the illustration of a half-woman, half-bird luring sailors with the promise of sweet music.
She didn’t know that her grandmother would take it as a serious answer, nor that the rest of the family would cackle about it nonstop, carrying the legend of Ava the Siren through countless Thanksgivings as if it proved something essential about her character.
It was a childhood moment that, in retrospect, would feel like a hinge. Not that Ava wanted to lure men to their deaths – though she would, eventually, become quite adept at making them lose their heads – but she was drawn to the idea of being impossible to ignore: a creature whose power required neither explanation nor apology, and whose allure was both a curse and a gift. At that tender age, she’d just been enchanted by the idea of singing so beautifully that the world bent around her voice, but as Ava grew older, the fantasy matured with her.
She became a collector of stories, especially the ones about women who remade themselves out of scraps, who gathered power quietly, and who lived by their wits in a world that resented their cleverness. Her high school years were spent in the company of misfits: girls who wore their eyeliner like armor, who whispered secrets in the library stairwell, who named themselves after obscure gemstones and told each other’s fortunes. She also discovered a true passion for singing, and not just in the shower.
After graduation, Ava left her hometown behind, never quite able to decide if she missed it or not. She went to university in a city where even the pigeons looked cynical, and studied philosophy and psychology mostly as a provocation. She worked terrible jobs, read dense, untranslated novels in laundromats, and circled back to Greek and Latin, and every myth involving transformation.
(…)
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