Obscene Filkers

Clues and Gropes listed on Nova Awards site

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 11:24:01 GMT

Now that I've finally sent a paper copy of Clues and Gropes to the Nova Award Administrator, it's listed on the Nova awards site. If you read fanzines and you're going to Novacon, then please make an effort to vote for the best fanzines, fan artists and fan writers in the Nova Awards.

Eastercon 2007

Fri, 13 Apr 2007 16:20:38 GMT

We had an Obscene Filking Workshop at Eastercon this year, for which purpose watervole and I put together a booklet of obscene filks under the title "Clues and Gropes", now available for download at eFanzines.com on this page.

During the workshop, the participants produced the following piece:

Sex, Lies and Mathematics

And did that geek on Friday night
Stumble into the fan-room bar?
And did he spy a wondrous sight,
A vision in a push-up bra?
He went pi-eyed -- Oh, would he dare?
The quartic function of her breasts,
Simple harmonic motion rare
Demanded some exhaustive tests.

Oh, could he plot her scatter points,
Her deviation from the norm?
He tried his only chat-up line:
"Would our parameters conform?"
"Oh, yes!" a baritone replied:
He'd failed to differentiate.
Our hero's interest wilted, died:
He lost his will to integrate.

How many ways...

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 18:47:44 GMT

How many ways can somebody be tied
With a pervert's intervention?
I'll tell you now of some that I've tried,
And those I miss, you'll surely mention.
Silken scarves and pantyhose,
Cable-ties and garden hose,
Even with rope, as everyone knows;
You can cut rubber rings
From inner tubes and things
With a pervert's intervention.

How many ways can somebody be whipped
With a pervert's intervention?
I'll tell you some, and those that I've skipped
I am sure you'll quickly mention.
Riding-crop and bamboo cane,
Paddles, slippers, rope again...
Even spaghetti, if you're insane;
But I'm sure I won't die
If I pass the pasta by
With a pervert's intervention.

How many items of clothing can be found
With a pervert's intervention?
I'll tell you how, if you have a look around,
You can find the ones I mention.
Leather corsets, latex socks,
Poly-vinyl schoolgirl frocks,
Even a furry, dressed as a fox;
You can find rubber suits
And those pointy ballet boots
With a pervert's intervention.

Song Book for Contemplation

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 11:14:46 GMT

dougs and myself are running the obscene filk session at Contemplation. We may put together a small song-book.

Has anyone got any favourite songs (to well-known tunes) that the'd like to suggest for inclusion?

The Single Polyamorist's Lament

Mon, 12 Mar 2007 07:46:22 GMT

I'd previously posted this in polyamory and filk, and then it was suggested that I posted it here too.

TTTO "The Recruited Collier" [tune].

What's the matter with you, you dope,
What cause have you for weeping?
You've one girl wrapping you in rope
And one with whom you're sleeping.
I'm lucky having girls like you,
There's some would think I'm lying,
There's very few do what I do,
So why then am I crying?

There's one girl playing with my head,
Who ties me up and flogs me,
And one who comes with me to bed,
Who cuddles me and snogs me.
It's right to say my lifestyle's fine,
I'm lucky to maintain it;
But still I find I've cause to pine:
I'll try now to explain it.

It's wonderful to have a friend
Who likes me to be subby,
But when our scenes are at an end
She goes back to her hubby.
My other friend likes bedtime play,
To make her senses tingle,
But in the morning, sad to say,
I'm back to being single.

There's more to life than bondage games,
There's more to life than kissing;
Although these ladies fan my flames,
There's something here I'm missing.
For neither one can be my wife
Acclaim me as her mentor
And walk alongside me through life
My level and my centre.

Inflatable Sheep

Sat, 17 Feb 2007 17:49:57 GMT

Inspired by something we saw at London Imperial. All items mentioned were available if you had the right coins.

TTTO "Blow the man down".

I once had a tryst with a vending machine,
Wey hey, blow up my sheep,
I showed it my girlfriend, but she wasn't keen,
Oh please won't you help to blow up my sheep?

She went in the ladies, said "they've got one too",
Wey hey, blow up my sheep,
"And now I don't want to go into the loo",
Oh please won't you help to blow up my sheep?

They've got small clockwork testicles, condoms that glow,
Wey hey, blow up my sheep,
Vibrating cock-rings and handcuffs to go,
Oh please won't you help to blow up my sheep?

But she bought a dildo that fit her so neat,
Wey hey, blow up my sheep,
So I had to buy an inflatable sheep,
Oh please won't you help to blow up my sheep?

Squick in fanfic.

Fri, 26 May 2006 12:11:48 GMT

Very much a work in progress: Initial doodlings, having been prompted to write a media-sf-fan version of an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

TTTO "I know him so well", from "Chess". Yes, I know this is a Tim Rice lyric to a Bjorn/Benny tune, and nothing to do with ALW. Never mind. In the original musical this number is sung by two female voices, and at certain points one interrupts the other with a different line: this is what the square brackets are for.

Sometimes what I write can squick a friend or two.
Perverts fill my fanfic and my dreams,
So when you beta things I send to you
Please forgive my squick-inducing scenes.

Looking back, I could yet write it differently,
Take out all the stuff that makes you pout,
But it takes time to understand the man,
Now at least I know him inside out.

Wasn't it bad? [oh so bad]
Wasn't it sick? [oh so sick]
Couldn't that badness stay in my fic?

In the end we need a little bit more than squick.
[Oh, the readership!] I need my fantasy and freedom.
You know me so well.

After Burns -- to Fisting

Fri, 14 Oct 2005 23:21:42 GMT

Further to a conversation the other day, I was challenged to write an "Ode to Fisting", after the style of Burns' Ode to a Haggis.

You can google for "Robert Burns" "To a Haggis" and find the original text and some translations into modern English.

To Fisting, by dougs.

Fair spread your honest, eager glutes,
Great Chieftain of SM pursuits!
Come, shy effete young things, come brutes,
And round me stand,
And learn to stretch those nether chutes
As wide's my hand.

The groaning helps the student know
The speed at which the work should go,
So bid your hand's advance to slow
In time of need,
And see that strong arousal flow
Like silver bead.

The ring resists, so take the strain
And wait till it dilates again,
Then let your hand pass through the pain,
Beyond the fist,
And feel the ring contract again
To seize the wrist!

Then, make your hand drive deep and wide,
To take the hindmost on its ride
Till all the skin on either side
Is taut as drums;
And let your subject feed your pride
with grateful hums.

Could any person here today,
Who likes to get their end away
with lesser kinds of adult play
(which we find bland),
React with horror or dismay
To helping hand?

Poor devil! Know not what you've missed?
You never felt that gutsy twist
When someone drives a greasy fist
Into your frame?
I don't know why you still resist,
It's such a shame!

By contrast, see our subject here,
Whose eyes are bright, whose skin is clear,
Who, fighting down that clenching fear
By force of will,
Has kept the route to heaven clear
To take their fill.

Those who delight in sharing pain,
Who want to have us back again:
We don't want sex that's bland and plain,
No empty tryst;
But if you seek to entertain,
Give us a fist!

Fri, 23 Sep 2005 11:36:49 GMT

New filker here; I've just stumbled on this community and, after having woken my housemates with maniacal laughter, decided to post something I came up with. I'm not sure if this really counts as filk, since it's not technically a folk song. I seem to be much better at fitting obscene lyrics to things that aren't folk... is there a word for that? (Besides 'childish'?)

(To the tune of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.)

Oh,
You'd better not shout,
You'd better not cry,
Or it's the ballgag and a nasty black eye.
Santa Claus is owning your arse.

He's making a list,
He's checking it twice,
He's rubbing your body all over with ice.
Santa Claus is owning your arse.

He sees you when you're sleeping.
When you're awake he knows.
He'll masturbate into your hair and put on your pantyhose.

You'd better not shout,
You'd better not squirm,
'Cos you're his slut now, you sick little worm.
Santa Claus is owning your arse.

Roll me over

Sat, 04 Jun 2005 19:16:06 GMT

I was listening to this on a CD of wartime songs the other day and thought it would very easily become obscene. I looked on the web and discovered that other people had been there before us - grin.

This is my varient. I wonder what the rest of you can come up with?

We've tried it once or twice
And found it rather nice

Chorus:
Roll me over lay me down and do it again
Roll me over in the clover, roll me over lay me down and do it again

Oh this is number one
And the fun has just begun

Oh this is number two,
And he's laid me in the dew

Oh this is number three
And he's tied me to a tree

Oh this is number four
And he's been there twice before

Oh this is number five
And I'm feeling so alive

Oh this is number six,
And he's got me doin tricks

Well this is number seven,
And he took me straight to heaven

Oh this is number eight,
He bent me o'er the garden gate

Oh this is number nine,
And the welts are doin' fine

Oh this is number ten,
And when he's through we'll do it again

Paragon2 - obscene filking

Sun, 20 Mar 2005 22:24:33 GMT

Adult Filking – hosted by the Obscene Filkers LiveJournal Community. A combination performance / workshop event, bring your instruments, songs, or just ideas for us to work on.

is scheduled for 9pm, Friday night.

Of Feline Bondage

Sun, 09 Jan 2005 21:36:41 GMT

Of Feline Bondage
I'm spending a few days with [info]predatrix. I've been showing her a few handy things to do with rope and the cats were taking an interest.

Pred suggested the title, blame me for the rest...

"Of Feline Bondage"

Tune - It seems to fit pretty well to 'Mademoiselle from Armentiers' (also known as 'Inky Pinky Parleyz Vous') (also 'Mit mine niggerum, beggerum, stinkum')

I've seen you working with your bits of rope,
I have to say I think it's all a joke,
You can try it on your partner, but we'll soon see who is smarter,
If you ever try that rope on me!

For I'll scratch you and I'll claw you if you do,
I'll use my teeth to bite your finger through,
Although I'm fat and lazy, only touch me if you're crazy,
I'm a higher form of life than you!

You may demonstrate your wrist and ankle ties,
You can try until the tears come to your eyes,
If you try to tie my paws up, it will only get my claws up,
Anyone who ties me dies!

You may dangle all the ends upon the floor,
I will even deign to chase them out the door,
I will mix them in a tangle, 'till your nerves are all a-jangle,
Help! How do I get out of this mess?

Paragon2 - obscene filking

Sat, 08 Jan 2005 17:31:44 GMT

Would anyone be interested in having a late late night opportunity to perform / workshop some obscene filks at Paragon2 at Easter?

A Festive Slashy Filk

Sun, 19 Dec 2004 20:58:37 GMT

The writers who frequent b7_rpg sometimes slink off into the corner known as AU, to devise strange scenarios of a sometimes smutty nature. Being timeshifted from the regular posters, I often wake up to a new AU scene or three in my RSS feed. Really, there's nothing like a slice of bizarre slash for breakfast.

This morning I awoke to a particularly festive bit of roleplay featuring Kerr Avon, a green velvet outfit, and bells that jingled ... oh, and the aforementioned smut. I had such fun reading it that I had to render it in filk form ;) Members of a certain list may catch sight of the storified version of the roleplay (re-written by one of the authors, not myself.) I'd apologise for the bad lyrics and repeating the chorus, but ... nah, I'm not sorry ;)

'AU Smut' or 'Jingle Balls'

Dashing through the net, in my search for smut today
Trawled the RPG, in hope of something gay.
Syndication pinged, and my browser came alight
Guiding me to AU smut and christmas fun tonight.

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

An hour or two ago, on a nicely timed shoreleave,
Avon came to town in search of some relief;
Looking for a mate who would share his festive kink
For naughty elves and christmas bells and velvet hats that clink!

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

Santa on his throne was a most enticing sight
Avon wandered in, with cock and hat upright
At the sound of 'ho ho ho', poor Kerr saw his mistake
and learned of course that Santa Claus was Fearless Leader Blake

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

Now D&S it's true, is a fairly common kink
With bells and velvet too, one's options start to shrink
Feeling rather fey, they decided to enjoy
A festive romp so very gay with with santa's sack and toy

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

Kerr the elf confessed that he'd been a naughty boy;
He sat on Santa's knee to play with his new toy
With a candy cane, he offered Blake the sight
Of mischief that an elf might do in his cabin late at night

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

Avon and his cane were a very pretty sight
But true to life he found things didn't turn out right
Playing with his toy, he heard a dreadful crack
The sugar broke before the elf could get his candy back!

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

To Kerr Avon's aid came Santa with his sack
He lifted up his elf and laid him on his lap
Pulling out the prize of sugar white and red
He asked if Kerr would rather play with Santa's cane instead

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today

In Santa's suit of red Kerr found the toy he craved
and earned a christmas gift although he'd not behaved
Kerr astride the throne, with Santa soon inside
To finish with a happy end their festive farce that night.

AU smut, AU smut, groping all the way!
Kerr the elf plays with himself and Santa Claus is gay.
AU smut, AU Smut, groping all the way!
O what fun it is to read the christmas smut today!

Ties to Bind Him

Sat, 23 Oct 2004 21:24:24 GMT

This one was composed at connotations. I think it was mostly me, with a bit by predatrix and inspiration from other fen who were present at the time.

'Ties to Bind Him'

Tune 'Dido Bendigo' (the original is a traditional hunting song)

As I went to breakfast, at a con last autumn,
I overheard some slash fen a-talking,
Between a group of fen, they were sharing out the men,
So early, as the day was dawning.

CHORUS
There were handcuffs, wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, and cable ties,
Lots of rope to tie his wrists behind him,
There were school ties, silk scarves, leather belts and plastic wrap,
These were the ties that would bind him.

Now the first lad being young, and his trials just beginning,
He dived straight away 'neath the covers,
We tied him to the door and his ankles to the floor,
Thinking that he'd find no freedom there forever.

Now the next lad being older, and his trials fast advancing,
We bent him across a dealer's table,
We flogged him on the rear, with a happy, evil leer,
He knew escape was more than he was able.

Well they fled across the con, but their luck was almost gone,
The fen and their pens never failing,
It seems just yesterday, that I heard their leader say,
It's onward, my lusty fen forever!

Not entirely sure it's a filk, but it is rather obscene...

Mon, 11 Oct 2004 22:02:34 GMT

I learned this one while living at Bienville Hall at the University of New Orleans in the early '90s. I have no idea the name of the tune or the original source of the song.

Oh, your mother's a bricklayer, a bricklayer, a bricklayer.
Your mother's a bricklayer, a fine bricklayer is she.
All day long she lays bricks, she lays bricks.
All day long, then she comes home and lays me.

Oh, your mother's a carpenter, a carpenter, a carpenter.
Your mother's a carpenter, a fine carpenter is she.
All day long she nails boards, she nails boards.
All day long, then she comes home and nails me.

Oh, your mother's a glassblower, a glassblower, a glassblower.
Your mother's a glassblower, a fine glassblower is she.
All day long she blows glass, she blows glass.
All day long, then she comes home and blows me.

Oh, your mother's a prostitute, a prostitute, a prostitute.
Your mother's a prostitute, a fine prostitute is she.
All day long she has sex for money, she has sex for money.
All day long, then she comes home and watches TV.

For scarlatti

Mon, 06 Sep 2004 21:11:30 GMT

I have a Submissive

tune: Loch Lomond

The robin comes to me and he sings upon the tree,
He takes food from the table in my garden,
When I've mealworms in my hand, then he'll venture down and land,
But I'm never fool enough to think he loves me.

CHORUS

Oh ye'll take the straight road and I'll take the bent road,
And maybe I'll get there afore ye,
For I have a sub and I know I have his love,
I can take on all the world while he adores me.

Now some men want their steak and a slice of chocolate cake,
My sub gives his will into my choosing,
With a blindfold he can't see, but he takes his food from me,
For love he'll take whatever I would give him.

The cat on my lap deigns to let me stroke her back,
And tells me when she needs food from the larder,
She gives a gentle purr when I stroke her velvet fur,
But I'm never fool enough to think she loves me.

When my sub is tied and bound, with his forehead on the ground,
I can use his body as I choose to,
When he moves under my hand, I'm the queen of all the land,
But I know he's only mine because he loves me.

I love him with my heart and I give him of my art,
Some might think out love is strange and cruel,
The gift he gives to me, is only mine to see,
But it's the reason why I'll always love him.

Wild Rover

Sat, 03 Jul 2004 01:18:57 GMT

To the tune "Wild Rover".

I've been into fisting for many a year,
And I miss that full feeling I get in my rear,
And now there's a girl who can warm up my core,
With my ring round the wrist of the one I adore,
    And it's no, nay, never,
    No, nay, never, no more
    Will I miss that full feeling,
    No, never, no more.

On Board a Ninety-Eight (bus)

Fri, 02 Jul 2004 20:59:17 GMT

On Board A Ninety-Eight (bus)

(with apologies to, among other people, the shade of Peter Bellamy. Also apologies to the readership in this group, because it's not filthy enough. It does scan, though. I just sang it at watervole. Inspired, of course, by a real-life news story)

One day I went up the stair
How I did stand in awe
A man so firm and maid so fair
Were coupling on the floor
Since no-one called them to account
Their reasons for to state, O
They did not stop, nor yet dismount
The quaking Ninety-Eight.

The old top deck she groaned and shook
The passengers they swore
That they did not know where to look
And they should call the law.
But who's to raise the nine-nine-nine
To bring them to their fate, O?
The passengers they sit and whine
On board a Ninety-Eight.

The couple's other habit, though:
A fouler form of...shag.
A flicking lighter's sudden glow,
He takes a hearty drag.
I raised my phone, inviting cops,
And this I tell you straight, O,
That they were nicked for lighting up
On board a Ninety-Eight!

Sweet Cassandra

Wed, 30 Jun 2004 18:47:36 GMT

It isn't really obscene, but I was reminded of it by something supergee just posted.

I wrote it a year or two back and Bush was part of the inspiration.

The tune is original - I can be persuaded to sing it at conventions if anyone wants to hear it.

Cassandra, as I hope you all know, always prophesied correctly and was never believed.

SWEET CASSANDRA

Chorus
 Oh, lie to me,
 Sweet Cassandra lie to me.
 Prophesy no enemy will come across the sea,
 Oh, lie to me.

 
 Where are the lands of heroes, the stories of the brave?
 Where is fair Atlantis, that sank beneath the waves?
 Where are all the people who lived in days of yore?
 Who will tell their stories if we are no more?

 
 Tell me there's no poverty, say the world is free,
 Tell me there's no fighting, no one's a refugee,
 Tell me there's no hunger, no illness we can't cure.
 Say the world is happy - and say no more.
 

 Tell me that the Green Crusade is really rather strange,
 Tell me that the climate is never going to change,
 Tell me that the oceans will never rise again,
 Say I can ignore things, give me no blame.

Sonnets

Tue, 29 Jun 2004 17:42:05 GMT

Does anyone know any tune that will fit a sonnet? I was trying to write a filk, but it wants to be a sonnet and I've racked my brains and can't come up with any tune that will fit at all.

Surely there must be something with ten syllables per line? (and alternating stresses, and 14 lines in all)

Hippotamus Song

Mon, 21 Jun 2004 17:21:21 GMT

Tune- The Hippotamus Song.
 
 
 A novice fan-writer was seated one day,
 At the wheel of her Chevrolet car,
 She thought of her laptop that back at home lay,
 With a story she'd written so far.
 Behind on the back seat, sat reading a zine,
 Was a friend whom she'd just met that year,
 The novice fan-writer, clutched the steering wheel tighter,
 As her friend sang with a leer -
 
 CHORUS 
 Smut, smut, glorious smut,
 There's nothing quite like having Avon in rut,
 So follow me, follow, let's write a new wallow,
 We'll all of us wallow in glorious smut!
 
 
 The novice fan-writer sat upright in shock,
 Upon hearing this dreadful idea,
 The thought of her Avon, so smooth and refined,
 In a setting so terribly queer.
 She imagined his body all covered in sweat,
 And a funny lump formed in her throat,
 Oh could it be sinful to want a full skinful,
 Of Avon so dark and remote?
 
 
 Her friend, feeling helpful, said, "Think of two men,
 Their bodies entwined in full lust,
 When Blake's fucking Avon he hasn't a thought,
 But of making that orgasmic thrust."
 The novice fan-writer fell dead in a faint,
 And let go of the wheel of her car -
 Now three Chryslers, a Rover and a tourist from Dover,
 Have joined her in heaven so far!

Drunken Sailor

Sat, 19 Jun 2004 19:26:07 GMT

I think 'What shall we do with the drunken sailor' is crying out to be filked.

There are all sorts of interesting things to do to him.

However, what can we replace 'the drunken sailor' with?

I know Douglas Spencer scans... Are there any more generic options?

Yes, I know Douglas is pretty generic...

I'm not sure even Douglas would enjoy some of the things I'm thinking of as verses!

PS. I hate the song, but I keep hearing the chorus of YMCA as BDSM...

All Through the Night

Tue, 15 Jun 2004 21:13:14 GMT

Sleep my love, no ill betide thee,
All through the night,
Someone else now sleeps beside thee,
All through the night,
Though you're now owned by another,
Still, you helped me to discover,
What a sub's like as a lover,
All through the night.

She may give you touch or torment,
All through the night,
You must obey her each requirement,
All through the night,
Though I may have dreams about you,
I must learn to live without you,
For I never truly had you,
All through the night.

May she always love you truly,
All through the night,
Chastise you when you're unruly,
All through the night,
If I ever loved you dearly,
Then I have to say it clearly,
Give your love to her entirely,
All through the night.

Bacon Game

Tue, 08 Jun 2004 17:32:49 GMT

YOu really need to understand the concept of BAcon Numbers - by how many movies is an actor linked to Kevin Bacon?

The Bacon Game

tune: Loch Lomond

 My lover is a guy with a gently roving eye,
 And a liking for the rich and the famous,
 And I know his ex, once had a lot of sex,
 With a man who used to work for Ronald Regan.
 
 Now he in his turn, used to lust and then to burn,
 For a lad he'd once rolled in the heather,
 But that lad loved a guy who was well and truly bi,
 With a collar round his neck made of leather.
 
 
 Now this guy was a slave to a woman who would rave,
 Or her passion for a gentlemen in Soho,
 And he had a girl, an Oriental pearl,
 Who really knew the way to fix his mojo.
 
 
 But what he didn't know, was she really longed to go,
 To Hollywood and see her career waken, 
 Now you can win the game, and finish off the chain,
 If you can prove she slept with Kevin Bacon!