Alethea Hunt is a work of fiction, dreamt up to go in the blurb of the first short story I put onto Smashwords about 9 years ago. At the time I was mum of two strange children and about to become pregnant with a third.
I needed to be something other than a mother to two non-verbal toddlers who wanted to watch the same three Pixar movies in the same order every day. Alethea was born with a single line.
Something only found in fiction, Alethea started as a notion of a person and gradually became more and more solid, and that wasn’t just because they liked to lie around on the sofa eating calorie-free chocolate and could always find time to write. They can always find time to write even at the moment.
Allie would look at the one of those silly internet memes where you work out how many things in a list of forty you wouldn’t eat and would score zero. “If it’s edible, I’ll put anything in my mouth!” they would say with a smile that suggested a million innuendos. I didn’t have the smile, but allowing for risk awareness, I was pretty much an eat anything once type of girl. Allie made me look at this differently. Perhaps I was a secret risk taker.
Alethea had a daring sex life. I didn’t. But then it turned out, I did, I just didn’t appreciate all the experiences I’d had. Allie made them seem much more daring. Perhaps starting your dating life with a poly relationship wasn’t as run of the mill as I’d thought. That power aware role play stuff I’d done as a lark with friends (and found I really enjoyed) was useful, if only so Allie had something to write about. Who hadn’t had a selection of threesomes in different configurations? Thrown in partners of different genders? Had sex for money?
Alethea loved to take all these vignettes of life and turn them into something more polished and sexy. To me they were just the memories of a worn out mum who couldn’t properly remember what life was like before nappies.
In 2017, Alethea finally had enough of a life to need a wardrobe and struck out to Eroticon in London alone, with the blessing and encouragement of the increasingly lovely Mr Hunt. (I mean, of course he would take their name…they definitely have a dramatic personality!)
Mr Hunt, it turned out, was very fond of Alethea, and I found myself in a very strange threesome. Alethea was not shy about sex toys or positions, or exactly what they needed from us. Sometimes they’d whisper in Mr Hunt’s ear, some saucy thing they wanted to write about, so could we just experiment a little. Just for them to watch and take notes.
In London, Allie made friends and they’ve shared those friends with me. With every friend and comment on the blog they became more and more rounded. Eventually, we couldn’t share my computer anymore and had to be bought one of their own. They entered Sinful Sunday and became flesh in more ways than I ever had imagined.
Allie and I will never quite see eye to eye, but over the last 9 or so years we have become more and more alike. They voice the opinions I dare not. Dares to love openly and honestly even if that doesn’t fit the tightlaced life I chose for myself. Challenges me to speak up when the mums at coffee insist their daughters thinking babies come from eating apple seeds is ok or that you shouldn’t ask your child’s consent to a cuddle because it’s your right to just take one (or insist grandad has one).
We can’t really be seen in the same places. I have one of those jobs where people think your sexual morals should be debatable in the court of public opinion and raising the children turned out to be far harder than I could ever have dreamt. Alethea meets it all head on in a lace dress and a collar Mr Hunt made, so their place in our lives was obvious to observers. If my social worker met Allie, it could bring down a shitstorm of hell I’m not ready for, because Allie isn’t the type of person social workers are good at understanding. I can’t introduce her to my minister at church either, even though their on good terms with God and has more than a few things to say about biblically literal theology they’d like to air. My psychologist however, she really likes Allie and thinks they’re good for me and Mr Hunt and in fact for the children, because someone needs to know how to have fun. They have coffee with my mum and dad and they think they’re unusual, but if meeting her keeps me happy, they can cope with that. Mum and Dad will never get used to their preference for a gender neutral pronoun though, so it’s a good job Allie still answers to she/her and has a lot of patience.
Allie is my friend. Keeps me sane when the world is full of unsolveable tedious knots of problems. Has a million ideas for spicing up our sex life. Writes pretty hot porn and takes a decent photo when pushed. They slow down every second of an encounter and makes me consider it with wonder.
When they were born, fully formed like Venus rising from the sea, Alethea changed my life, very much for the better. I’m still a frumpy mum, with too much work to do, messy kids and an adventurous palate. And I can be that, because Alethea exists, and not drown in it.
Allie writes truth disguised as fiction, and fiction disguised as truth.
Gives me a place to hide and a place where people can truly see me.