Call me a prude if you will but this story shocked me to very core. Having finally made myself sit through the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy (and find them highly amusing if not at all sexy), I was told that for some true erotica, to turn to this.
That was quite possible the worst recommendation in the world. That is not to say this is a bad book. It isn’t. But I would never personally categorise it under erotica as to me, it isn’t remotely sexy either but for very different reasons.
Fifty Shades of Grey isn’t sexy because, in my opinion, it’s not terribly well written. The Story of O isn’t sexy because as I turned the pages, riveted mind you, I grew more and more appalled that any woman (fictional or not) would allow such things to happen to her as they do in this book; and not only that, but to take pride in these things happening. It’s entirely alien to me. But it’s written so well that I finished it, whilst still horrified, entirely believing that this sort of thing happens in the world.
Do not be fooled into thinking this is erotica. But do read it if you haven’t. It’s astounding stuff.