Tag: Erotica Writing

Challenge Completed!

At the start of this month, I challenged myself to write a new 800-1650 word blog post for every day in May, by the end of the month. It is now 9:11 PM on May 31, and this will be my 31st and final blog post for this month, completing my challenge!

 

  1. May Challenges, Past and Present
  2. Where Do I Get My Wonderful Ideas
  3. So You Have An Idea
  4. A Burgundy Evening
  5. You Know The Tune
  6. Being An Invisible Writer
  7. The Nature and Nurture of Pain
  8. Twitter, Huh, What Is It Good For?
  9. Why I Don’t Write Reviews For My Fellow Erotica Authors
  10. Why He Thinks You’re Pretty
  11. Finding Words & Thoughts
  12. Got Mentioned in the “Loving BDSM” Podcast!
  13. NOT In A Single Word
  14. Why I Don’t Use Trigger Warnings
  15. In Which I Battle Myself To Write This
  16. “This Has Never Happened To Me”
  17. How To Suck Your Own Cock
  18. Rejection Letters
  19. Stop Kinkshaming Ammosexuals
  20. Aaron Gold’s “Don’t Mind If I Don’t” Podcast
  21. Myself As Well
  22. Avatars & Objects
  23. Is It Okay To Fantasize About Being Raped?
  24. Hobbies, Skills, and Passions
  25. Is It Okay To Fantasize About Raping People?
  26. Is It Okay To Write Rape Fantasies?
  27. How To Have An Orgasm (Solo)
  28. How To Have Multiple Orgasms (Males)
  29. How To Write An Orgasm
  30. Where To Start The Story
  31. Challenge Completed!

I started my Goodreads Blog (https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7514047.Richard_Bacula/blog)  

on April 16, 2014. Between that day and April 30, 2018, I had managed to write a whopping FIVE blog posts:

1. Jagermeister Night

  1. How To Be As Sexy As A Dead Deer
  2. The Nature of Storytelling
  3. Size Is Everything
  4. “Amazon.Com Has Rejected Your Product Review”

 

I’ve never been good at blogging, but it’s something that one needs to do in order to create a platform and to let the world know that you exist, and that you’re interesting. So this year–after utterly failing last year’s challenge–I got the idea of writing blog posts instead of erotic stories. As far as I’m concerned, it’s been a success.

I increased my total blog content by six fold, I got to say a lot of things that I apparently wanted to say, and I had fun. I mean, I’m tired, but it’s been fun doing this! I have more of a feel for writing blogs, and I have more practice now. This makes me more likely to write more in the future.

One of the other things that makes me more likely to write more blogs in the future is that I now have a WordPress blog set up in addition to my original GoodReads blog. It’s a better website, with lots of neat features that have helped me out, and that I think will help me out in the future.

One of the problems that I’ve had as a writer became painfully clear to me this past month: I’m not a tortoise–I’m a hare. I’m not slow and steady; I’m fast and furious. I can get a lot done in a limited amount of time, but then I tire out, and I turn to other things. Usually, the chaos of my life and my Fucking Day Job take hold, and lots of time passes before I get back to whatever writing project I was on last.

When it comes to attracting blog audiences, you need to produce regular content, and getting to the keyboard on a regular basis just isn’t my thing. I’m not capable of doing that until I can write full time, and don’t have all the distractions that I have now (like paying rent). But what I can do is to, next chance I get, write a bunch of new blog posts like I’ve done this month, and to have WordPress automatically post them at regular intervals. I can sprint, then I can rest while WordPress tortoises on for me.

That makes me a LOT more enthusiastic about blogging!

Also, I live for feedback. One of the things that has kept me motivated this past month is watching all the Notifications about people around the world Liking my posts, Following my blog, and generally noticing that I exist. This hasn’t translated to sales, but enthusiasm and morale is just as important in many ways. So I say this:
If you want me to keep writing this blog regularly, give me feedback!!

I can use the help to nudge me in this direction. It doesn’t have to be Comments on my posts (although those are ideal and awesome!). You can just send me a tweet @RichardBacula, or an email RichardBacula@Gmail.Com, letting me know that you read something I wrote here, and what you thought.

At this point, 9:37 PM on May 31, everything is written. Some of it won’t get published on WordPress until tomorrow or later, and it’ll be later still before I get everything up on clunky old Goodreads. This might be my last blog post for a while, or it might not. Part of that depends on you, and part depends on me.

Thanks for your support this past month!

(I’m gonna go drink until I pass out.)

How To Write An Orgasm

The orgasm is one of the best parts of sex, and one of the most fascinating and intense human experiences. When I write about them, which is quite frankly a lot, I try to do them justice. Ideally, I go into as much detail as possible, because there are just so many ways to climax, and so many different details. Every orgasm is unique, and each orgasm in erotica should strive to also be unique. There’s a limit to what words can convey, and how many different metaphors and terms we can come up with for “pleasure,” but it’s important to try.

Here’s some advice that I’ve given to other erotica writers in the past:

Writing about an orgasm is kind of like writing a miniature story within a story. You can’t just jump to the climax without any build-up, not if you want to do it right. You lead up to it with rising action, describing first the desire and the light stirring of sensations—the way the body first feels faint physical foreshadowing of what lies ahead, then the pleasure starts to solidify into something more real as the body (and mind!) are teased into varying states of increasing arousal.

You show each of these levels of pleasure along the way, taking the reader on a journey up a path of pleasure that rises higher and higher, building their anticipation of that ultimate peak that they know lies ahead. Bring the reader closer and closer, but wind the path just enough that they can only catch glimpses of the destination—glimpses are the key to anticipation, which is a key to hunger, which is the key to gratification.

The journey itself is part of the destination .

Wend them along the path as they let you take them higher and higher, closer and closer to that ultimate peak, until they know that they’re so close—so damned close—that they can almost feel their arrival.

But only almost.

Then let them see it, right there ahead of them, let them know what they’re about to find, where they’re about to go, and let them have that perfect moment when they know they’ve almost arrived, that there’s no turning back, that any moment now they’re…

About…

To…

Then they’re there! They’ve rushed those last few running steps, and they’ve fully arrived, and they suddenly realize that the peak is even higher than they could have imagined, so high that it perhaps even scares them a bit because they realize that they’re so far gone now that they might not find their way back—they’re afraid they might die here, and part of them wants to because it’s just so perfect, so thrilling, so wondrous that it breaks them a little bit and they know that even when they somehow find their way back down again, they will never ever be the same.

 

As you can see, I like to use metaphors. They’re extremely handy things, metaphors, the multi-tool of communication. I’ve rarely metaphor I didn’t like.

This is important when it comes to orgasm, because most of what we feel when it comes to erotic sensation is pleasure, and there are only so many words for pleasure, each of which comes with its own connotations that may or may not convey the right mood for the scene you’re working on. When it comes to sexual sensations, from the tingling build-up to the climax itself, I often try to pick a single metaphor and stick with it throughout the scene.

Often I go with electricity. It’s handy, common, and accurate. Things can start off with electric tingles of pleasure, then later there can be shocks and jolts of sensation, all rising and building like a thunderstorm, and when it all comes to a peak, the orgasm can hit the character like a lightning bolt, arcing from their loins to their nipples, to other parts of them that are being aroused depending on the scene.

Fire is good too. Start with sparks, or even a warm smoldering feeling. The character feels warm, then hot. Things heat up. Their skin feels like it’s on fire, their body burning with the heat of their passion, searing them with sensation until it all builds up and… explodes like a volcano, or even like a fiery bomb. Fire works pretty well.

During one of my May Challenges, when I was writing 31 stories in 31 days, I remember running low on ways to write orgasms. I did electricity. I did fire. Then I worked through the other elements.

Air: started off like light fingers of wind, and ended up like a hurricane.

Water: pleasure flowed through the character, starting off as a mild trickle, but over time turning into a river that threatened to sweep them away, then it did carry them away, orgasm crashing over them like a tidal wave, threatening to drown them, promising to carry them out to sea forever, to never let them come back to shore.

Earth: Light tremors of sensation building into rumbles of pleasure, leading to an orgasm that hits them like an earthquake, making them buck, thrash, and shudder…

You get the idea.
You probably got the idea earlier, when I was just using the metaphor of a path and a destination.

Make good use of it! Not enough writers do.

How To Have An Orgasm (Solo)

Odd as it may seem to some of us, there are many people in the world who haven’t had an orgasm, but who would like one. They just don’t quite know how to get one. I’ve talked to any number of women who have told me stories about frustrating early experiences trying fruitlessly to masturbate to orgasm as a teenager, as well as women who have had an active sex life for years without ever finding that level of satisfaction. One of these women was a professional sex worker, who’d had at least three digits worth of partners over her life, performing an astounding variety of sexual acts, and she’d never once had an orgasm.

When this woman asked me for advice on how she could take care of things (she was not asking for my assistance; we never had that kind of relationship), it was the most surprising thing I’d heard about anybody’s sex life in some time. I gave her the best advice that I could, which was a less-detailed, less thorough version of what follows.

Start By Being Sexually Aroused

I’m not going to make a blanket claim that orgasms can never happen without a person first being aroused, because that would be false. There are some people who can–and do–spontaneously orgasm from a balloon popping, or from sneezing, or other stimuli that hits that individual in a specific way. It can happen, but if it was the kind of thing that was likely to happen to you, you wouldn’t need to read this post.

For the rest of us, the more aroused we are, the easier it is to climax. If you’re unaroused, or actively turned off, then orgasm will be effectively impossible. If, on the other hand, you’re aroused enough, then anything slightly sexual will set you off. Don’t focus on “having an orgasm,” not to start. Focus on “becoming increasingly aroused.”

If you’re not particularly horny, either wait until you become horny, or try to find some kind of stimulation that will arouse you. Watch porn, think arousing thoughts, or buy and read any or all of my line of erotic stories available on Amazon.com. 😉


Physical sensation is important. As you consume your erotic entertainment, or entertain your own erotic thoughts and fantasies, you should feel yourself becoming more aroused. You should feel tingles in key places of your body. Feel free to touch those places, to remove clothing from them.

I feel that I should make it clear that if you’re reading this in a public place, do NOT actually do these things at this time!
Touch yourself lightly. One mistake that people sometimes make is trying too hard, using too much pressure, and rubbing themselves raw. You don’t want to do that–you want to caress yourself gently, to tease your skin lightly.

Think of what it’s like standing close to somebody who has just the right scent, the right perfume or the right cologne, or even the right natural fragrance. If the scent is too strong, you’ll back away from it. If it’s too faint, you won’t notice it. If it’s just right, then it will be in the middle, just strong enough to make you want to lean in, toward that person, to get more of it.

You want your own touch on your own flesh to be like that. You want it to entice you, to stimulate your senses but to leave them wanting more, not less. Vary your touch, try different locations on your body and see what feels good. Try to arouse, if possible, every inch of your skin.

As you’re working on your physical arousal, work on your mental arousal as well. It helps to be relaxed to start, to be comfortable. You want as few distractions as possible from any thoughts and sensations that would try to steal your attention away from the pleasure you feel. Try to still your thoughts, and to focus only on what you’re experiencing.

Soft music can help, by drowning out background noise.

Pot or alcohol can help, but only in light amounts. You want just enough to help you relax, to calm your mind, and to maybe to heighten things a slight bit. Too much of either, and you’ll sabotage your own orgasm. With pot, there are highs where everything will feel fabulous, but you just won’t be able to come. With alcohol, you want to numb only your inhibitions, not your sensations.

Mood lighting might help as well, enough to calm you and help you feel sexy, but not enough to make you sleepy.

Slowly Increase Your Pleasure

Don’t rush things. Take your time. Romance yourself. Tease yourself until your body is moving toward your own touch, pushing back, eager for more. Stroke the places where it feels best, rewarding your body for its hunger.

But don’t try to sate it yet. Keep giving it just enough that it’s eager for more.

Keep your mind in a state where it’s only excited sexually, not anxiously or impatiently. Increase pressure in slight increments. Do the same with tempo. If you have a sex toy, such as a vibrator or a masturbation sleeve, you should be using it.

Expand Your Sensations

This may not be necessary. If you feel at this point like you might be able to come, work in that direction, but be patient. If you’re turned on, but you don’t feel like things are going to come to a climax, consider options to increase the number and kinds of sensations that you’re feeling. Remember, orgasm is about being overwhelmed in just the right way.

This is why many people get kinky: they’re trying to expand their sensations in order for their mind to be overwhelmed. Different things work for different people, but anal play works for most. Having a finger or an object teasing or penetrating your backdoor adds another layer of sensation in addition to anything you’re doing to your genitals and nipples. Again, don’t rush things.

Temperature play can be good as well. Some people like hot wax, some people like ice. Some people like both, alternatingly or concurrently. Temperature is another level of sensation, and a potential tool to increase arousal. Ice chills the body, condenses the flesh a bit as everything tightens up. Ice demands attention, putting nerve endings on full alert. Heat is warm, simulating the warmth of another person’s body or bodily fluids. Heat is relaxing. Heat can cause pain, at certain levels, and that can heighten awareness the same way that ice can.

Other things might help as well. You’ll have to experiment. Put something in your mouth, perhaps a dildo, and fantasize about it being something else. Or just put something in your mouth and bite down, like a bit-gag. Play with nipple clamps or clothespins (read up on what you’re doing first!), maybe do some light self-bondage.

The idea is to have multiple pleasurable sensations and thoughts occurring at the same time, too many for your mind to absorb all at once, so that your awareness will have to move from one sensation to the next to the next, or back and forth. You want your thoughts to pinball around between the things you’re experiencing, until you can’t take it any more.

Then you explode.

You don’t necessarily have to seek out this explosion; just keep seeking pleasure. When you get enough of it, your brain and your body will let you know.

It might take repeated attempts. Don’t get discouraged, don’t get down on yourself. You don’t have to climax this session, or even next session, and if you don’t, it doesn’t mean you’re any kind of failure. You’ll get there. It just sometimes takes practice.

Avatars and Objects

Both “erotica” and “horror” are emotional terms, referring not to any physical actions, but to emotional states. Erotica is specifically art intended to arouse physical desire. Although there are certain physical responses that are a part of this reaction, the reaction itself occurs in the minds of the audience. Horror as a genre is specifically referring to the capacity to instill fear, revulsion, or even terror into the audience. This is something to keep in mind when writing in either genre, because all too often writers and artists seem to focus entirely on the physical elements.

In purely visual mediums, this is understandable. A painting or picture can only do so much to do the things necessary to fully bring the viewer along for a journey. A simple portrait or picture of a nude man or woman might well be all that is required to achieve the intended reaction, but even in such cases there is usually effort made by the artist to convey something other than the pure physical form. Compare nudes sketches or photos that are done for the purposes of simply showing anatomy, versus works designed to arouse. The former is typically informative, but essentially unarousing. The latter is typically much more arousing, and this is due in large part to the emotional information conveyed by the work in question.

Faces in anatomical works are usually blank, neutral, conveying nothing about the subject except perhaps indifference. Faces in erotic works are typically full of various emotional reactions, and this is precisely because that emotional quality is essential to arouse the audience. Humans can be aroused by sheer anatomical close-up visuals, but typically they are aroused to much greater extents when emotions are involved in the work. A naked woman with a completely neutral face and posture isn’t going to do all that much for most male viewers, but add a bit of flush to the cheeks, a bit of a wanton smile, and suddenly any eroticism is greatly multiplied.

Humans are social creatures, and we as a species are typically concerned with and affected by the emotions that we see (or project) onto the people around us.

Most commonly, we are sexually aroused by seeing the emotion of sexual arousal in others. That flush to the cheeks can indicate a host of emotions that we associate with sex, from lust to embarrassment, to the kinds of physical exertion that we associate with enthusiastic sexual activity. As a hetero male, seeing art portraying an emotionally neutral naked woman provokes a certain level of arousal, a low-level spark of lust. Seeing art portraying a clothed (or partially clothed!) woman who’s looking at me (or another person in the art itself) with lust in her eyes, in her smile, in her flush, in her posture, can turn that spark into a bonfire.

Horror works the same way, although typically with different emotions (barring various kinks and phobias).

Picture a person being stabbed in the chest with a large knife, but with their countenance conveying complete indifference. Picture their limbs lying neutral. Picture their mouth closed in a lazy line, their eyes half-lidded with a lack of any interest.

Now picture the same stabbing, only with the target’s eyes wide with shock and fear, their mouth forced open by their scream of not only agony, but their understanding that these are their last moments of life, and that those last moments will be filled with suffering. Picture their legs buckling, their arms desperately failing to stop the incoming attack.

Neither of these images is necessarily going to instill you with fear, revulsion, or terror, but surely the second image comes closer to any of those emotions, comes closer to conveying horror, comes closer to doing the primary job that horror as a genre is designed for.

Let’s repeat the experiment with an erotic scene instead.

Picture a naked man and a naked woman. The woman is bent over a table, and the man is standing behind her. He is frozen mid-thrust, his cock half-way into (or out of) her. Their faces are blank masks, and their postures convey no urgency, no desire, and nothing about any kind of internal feeling about the act they’re in the middle of.

Re-imagine the scene.
This time, the woman is wearing a house dress. She is leaning over a kitchen table that has a cutting board with a knife and vegetables on it, as if she has been interrupted in the middle of preparing a meal. Picture her hands bunching the checkered tablecloth. Picture her face flushed with passion, her eyes closed with pleasure, her mouth opening wide with a moan of ecstasy. The top of her dress has been pulled down, exposing her bare breasts. The bottom of her dress has been lifted up, and her panties pushed aside so that the man could eagerly penetrate her.

He’s wearing slightly shabby clothing, as if he’s been working in the yard, and only came in for a break or a drink of water. His hands are on her hips, frozen in the act of frantically pulling her back against him. His eyes are filled with lust, his face red with it. His pants are unzipped and have been pulled down just enough for this spontaneous act of mutual passion.

Stereotypical gender roles aside (or especially included, depending on one’s kinks), which scene was more arousing?

Most likely the latter, because the characters we see in a work of art are our vehicle for this experience, our avatars and objects of desire. If we can see passion, we can feel that passion. Just as if we see fear or pain, we can experience that as well.

It’s the same in written work: a story must be about more than indifferent bodies in order to truly affect the reader. The characters must feel emotions, and these emotions must be transmitted to the readers in order to infect them with the appropriate feelings of fear or desire.

The goal of most art is to affect the audience somehow, and that’s incredibly difficult and rare to do without showing them any emotions within the art itself. Emotions are the key to affecting your readers, and details are the key to showing emotions.

I Got Mentioned in the “Loving BDSM” Podcast

 

My Fucking Day Job keeps me pretty busy physically, but not mentally. Consequently, I have long and boring periods of time where I don’t have the opportunity to read, but I am perfectly able to entertain myself by listening to audiobooks and podcasts. I try to use this as an opportunity not just to be amused, but also to further my education on my craft, as well as the world in general. I listen to classic novels, in order to study the great writers. I listen to many modern novels for the same reason. I listen to non-fiction audiobooks on subjects that I think might help me strengthen my key weaknesses as an independent writer: self-promotion and sales. I also listen to a lot of stuff just for ideas, and to broaden my knowledge of the world in general, as well as my knowledge of more specific areas of expertise that can come up in my writing.

One of the podcasts that I am subscribed to is the “Loving BDSM” podcast, by Kayla Lords and John Brownstone. Kayla is, in her own words, “a masochistic babygirl,” and John Brownstone is her Daddy Dom. Their podcast is about BDSM relationships, but is less geared toward the technical details of mechanics and biology, and is more focused on how to form and maintain strong, safe, and loving (if desired) relationships in the context of BDSM and the BDSM community.

I stumbled onto their podcast while searching for more information on BDSM relationships, because I’ve written some BDSM stuff in the past, and plan to write more in the future. Their podcast was useful in this regard, but I also quickly became charmed by the couple themselves, and have become quite a fan.

The Loving BDSM Podcast has a Bonus Section at the end of each episode, where they engage in general chitchat, discuss tangents that didn’t make it into the episode, provide updates about their lives, and so forth. Another thing they do in the Bonus Section is to discuss the postcards that they get from their fans.

I toyed with the idea of sending them a postcard, because I thought it would be nice to hear my own name mentioned in one of their episodes. I got the idea at some point that instead of mailing them a local postcard, I’d try to have a postcard made off of the cover of one of my books. I considered doing this with “Letting Go,” the romantic BDSM novel that I co-wrote with Kelli Roberts, but eventually settled on my story “Satisfied By A Stegosaurus,” because I love that cover in particular, and I thought they’d get a kick out of it.

Then I procrastinated for a long while, and recently decided that it would be simpler to just mail them a physical copy of the book, because it’s one of my stories that is long enough to work with Amazon’s print-on-demand publishing feature. So I mailed them a copy of the book, along with a note thanking them for their podcast.

Then I waited almost a full week to see if they mentioned me on their podcast.
AND THEY DID!!!!

More than just a quick “ we got this thing from Richard Bacula,” they spent a bit of time discussing the book, and Kayla read the back of the book for her listeners. I knew that it’d feel good to hear myself mentioned, but I was surprised at how over-the-top happy it made me!!

It’s a small thing, but it’s one of those things that makes me feel like a real writer. Thanks to working with Kelli Roberts on “Letting Go,” I’ve seen my name in a couple prominent places before. We got a press release on the AVN (Adult Video News) website when the book came out, and a couple of years ago the novel got a mention in Women’s Health Magazine as a way for couples to spice up their love life (i.e., read this book it will make you both horny), and while those were each certainly an absolute blast to see… this mention in a podcast with a much smaller audience than AVN or Women’s Health gave me as big of a thrill, perhaps more.

It’s one thing to see your name in print somewhere, and it’s another thing to hear it, and to hear people talking about your book. Hearing it makes it all seem more real somehow. I wrote a thing. I self-published it. I got a physical copy of the book. I mailed that copy to a couple of strangers. And They Talked About It!!

So I’m in a good mood.

This is the kind of success that is in some ways more important than direct sales, because morale is often at least as important than money when it comes to writing, at least for me.

 

Anyway, if you want to hear what they had to say about my book, you can listen to the entire episode here:
What You Can and Can’t Say in a D/s Relationship LB130

 

(Or just skip to about 59:47, if you just want to hear the part where they talk about me!)

Jagermeister Night

April 16, 2014

It’s Jagermeister Night at House Bacula, and it’s a pretty good night.
It should also be a short night, at this rate.
I found this blog, though, and figured that I’d put something here, if only to surprise myself in the morning, or whenever I find it.

In general, if anybody has any good suggestions what exactly I can use this blog FOR, feel free to let me know!
I’m not really a blogger by nature.
I do tend to answer questions, though, so if anybody out there has any questions for me, about anything, by all means just ask me.

Meanwhile, I’ll give a bit of my background.

I’ve been interested in sex since I was a little kid, and I took every opportunity to explore the weird world of sexuality. Oddly enough, this did NOT include playing “Doctor” with other kids, or anything like that.

I’ve also always been a big reader. For the most part, I read about sex.

I’d find the medical books in school, and look at the naughty bits. I’d read up on all the naughty words in the dictionary and the encyclopedias.

I’d sit in the grocery store when my parents weren’t looking, and browse through any unsealed dirty magazines that I could find. When magazines weren’t available, I’d find romance and horror novels, and skip around until I found the sex scenes there.
I learned a lot.

As I got a bit older, high school age, I had read the Kama Sutra, all kinds of dirty magazines, had watched a lot of dirty videos, had read “The Joy of Sex,”
“Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex
(but were afraid to ask),” and multiple other books that were specifically about sex.
I read other stuff too, of course, but the early interest in and information about sex stuck with me, and it eventually spurred me to write erotica.

There’s a lot of erotica out there already, and most of it really isn’t very good.
My goal as a writer is to try to raise the bar a bit, to provide more accurate, more detailed erotica that delves deeper into the motions and emotions of the participants.

Because I’m writing about sex, the sex tends to take up most of the text in each of my stories.

While many people do enjoy a long, slow, lingering, tedious build-up before the sex happens, that’s not the kind of thing that I enjoy in my reading, so that’s not what I write.
My stories tend to start off with the action, in media res, with character depth and plot demonstrated during the scene, with the occasional explanatory flashback.

I write some unusual erotica. I’ve written one story with a female werewolf, one story with a stegosaurus, and one story with a scarecrow.

All of them are good.

Part of my interest in writing that kind of story is the challenge of writing them well, given their rather absurd premises.

Other stuff is more vanilla. Just male/female stuff, or male/female/female stuff, or female/female stuff.

Despite a healthy level of personal sexual experience, there are limits to what I have done. I have not had sex with a stegosaurus, nor as a stegosaurus, for example.

Nor have I ever been a lesbian engaged in sex with another woman.

In these cases, I try to research as much as I need to in order to maintain the integrity of the scene, in order to get the details as correct as possible, or as possible as the story requires.

I’m not a hobby writer, by the way. I’m writing to make money, with full intent of making enough money to quit my day job(s) and to write full time.

Every copy of my work that is sold helps me toward that goal, and every little bit of word-of-mouth helps me get more potential sales.

Not to mention reviews!

If you read my works (and I suggest that you do: they’re reasonably priced), and you enjoy what I have written, I urge you to help spread the word.

It’s not necessarily my best work, but this free short erotic story should give you an idea of what I’m capable of:
http://www.literotica.com/s/cornholed

How to Be as Sexy as a Dead Deer

Written May 6, 2014

I’m pretty sure that most people would agree that deer aren’t particularly sexy. “Pretty,” probably. “Beautiful,” maybe, in the way that nature and animals can be beautiful, but not “sexy.”

Likewise, it’s only a certain kind of twisted person who thinks that death is sexy. It’s not- it’s tragic and ugly, even with animals. Sometimes more so with animals than humans, actually, which is why pretty much everybody hates a scene where a dog dies, but they’re often indifferent to scenes where a human dies.

In their song “Hunter’s Kiss,” Rasputina creates a little story about a hunter killing a deer. It’s sexy. It’s also horrible. That’s one of the things that makes the song stick in my mind, that makes it haunt me. It is both horrible and sexy.

I actually find the song more arousing than a lot of erotica I’ve read. It’s not that the song is THAT sexy… it’s that one hell of a lot of erotica is THAT bad.

A lot of writers can somehow manage to take the most arousing sexual acts and experiences, and turn them into something flat, un-interesting, or even outright painful to read about. They can start with all the right ingredients, and they can fuck up the recipe so badly that it’s effectively inedible.

Rasputina does the opposite. They go take a piece of metaphorical roadkill, and turn it into a darned fine meal.

How the hell do they manage to do that? Let’s find out.
Follow the link and listen to the song, if you haven’t done so already.
Click here to read the lyrics.

Are you with me?

They tell you right off the bat that it’s a sad story. The deer’s death doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. So they lessen the shock of the death; you already know it’s coming. It’s been foreshadowed. Readers like twist endings… sometimes. Other times, especially with short erotic stories, a twist breaks them out of the mood that you’re trying to sex, I mean “trying to set.” (That was an honest typo, but I’m leaving it there for the ghost of Sigmund Freud.)

You want readers to be aroused when they’re reading your erotica or sex scene, and clouding things up with other emotions only dilutes the elixer that you’re trying to create. If the reader laughs, or cries, or lets out a startled gasp of the wrong kind of shock, then their arousal—the emotion that you’re trying to stimulate most—gets broken. Rasputina knows this. So they start diluting the negative emotions associated with a dying deer, beginning by bracing the audience to understand ahead of time that, yes, this is a sad story. Any sadness, that way, will not come as a real shock.

This is also something of a magician’s trick. While they’re telling you on one hand that the story is sad, they’re secretly using the other hand to turn you on. (At least, that’s how it works for me. Some people, at this point, might very well not know what the hell I’m talking about.) While you’re bracing yourself for sadness, for something Bad, they start giving you something good.

It’s about context, and it’s about expectation. If you expect something Bad (sadness), and in the midst of the Bad you get something Good (arousal), then the Good parts will seem all the better for the contrast, the same way a bit of salt can highlight sweet flavors in food. Rasputina starts off immediately by taking control of your expectations. They make you brace for the Bad, while their other hand prepares to do something Good to you.

Next up, they start adding the Good, the old-fashioned spice of “Romance.” They do this by setting the stage: “A romantic scene, from a lullaby.” So now we know that it’s not necessarily just a tragedy, it might be a tragic romance. They’re foreshadowing more, showing us that other hand, without telling us what it’s going to do to us. We know to expect the bitter, but then we’re set up for a bit of sweetness.

Then, Rasputina sets the point of view: the singer is the deer. The hunter is about to shoot her. We empathize with the deer, because Rasputina has given the deer anthropomorphic thoughts: “Then the fleeting notion, that my life he’d save.” Deer don’t really recognize the danger that a hunter’s bow poses, not as a rule, and certainly not to this depth. Deer don’t have the cognitive ability to think the implied thoughts, along the line of: “Crap! This guy’s pointing an arrow at me, and he can kill me! Maybe I’ll luck out? Maybe he’ll show me mercy?” It gives the reader something to identify with, though, puts us in the deer’s shoes. Well, “hooves,” anyway.

We know it’s sad, and we know that this deer is in jeopardy, and we identify human emotions and intelligence with it. We’re invested now, for bitter or for sweet. Or for bittersweet.

The next stanza serves something of the same purpose of the first line; it gets the Bad out of the way quickly. The deer gets shot, thinks (again, anthropomorphizing the deer creates empathy) for a second that it’d been missed by the arrow, but then discovers that, no, it’s been hit. The deer isn’t dead, but it’s dying and helpless. It also subtly starts moving that other hand again, the hand that slipped the word “romantic” into the mix earlier. This time, it uses the word “Dirty.”

“Dirty” has many connotations and uses in the English language, and while Rasputina is using it accurately on the surface, leaving the deer “lying dirty” as in “on the ground, with some dirt on it,” there are other connotations. “Dirty” also means “Naughty,” as in “Sex is Dirty.” The association between the phrase “sex” and “dirty” is so completely overpowering, that I doubt that any listener fails to somehow make the connection, suddenly and abruptly, with sex. The hand that Rasputina told you to watch is showing you a dead deer. Their other hand is showing you sex, subliminally. Just a quick flash of it, but you’re still getting flashed.

Then we get to the refrain:
I have never, felt like this before.
Felt my body sinking, to the grassy floor.
No I have never, known a love like this,
Felt the flaming arrows, of the hunter’s kiss.

This is where the hands change, where we suddenly realize that while we were watching the hand we were told to, Rasputina has slipped their other hand into our clothing, and it’s that other hand that suddenly gets all of our attention as they start to touch unexpected parts of us. The first line is a classic sentiment of both love and sex, of the romance that was foreshadowed earlier. It’s something that’s been said countless times, in countless ways, in a near infinity of tales of romance and sex.

The refrain is brilliant, because that’s where the bulk of the heavy lifting is done for the storytellers/singers; that’s the part that carries the weight of our sadness off of us in several ways. They’re still singing about a dying deer, but they’re also now clearly singing about love, and about sex. By using classic romantic imagery to describe the dying deer, they create an emotional association between love/sex and a dying deer. It’s actually a kind of pun: they’re using well-known words that typically mean one thing, and they’re using those words to mean something else. They’re playing with words, like when somebody steps in a hole in the ground, and somebody else says “You’re on holey ground,” manipulating homophones to connect a hole in the ground to a phrase associated with churches and places of worship. Even if there isn’t any church or other “holy ground” in sight, the combination of words is going to make the hole-stepper and any nearby listeners suddenly think of churches or other locations that they associate with the key phrase, with the pun. The same way that Rasputina just made us think about a woman lying in the grass, about to have sex with a man that she loves, even though they haven’t shown us anything of the sort in their song.

The second thing that the refrain accomplishes is confusion, at least the first time we hear it. This reduces sadness, because Rasputina just shifted gears from “Aw, poor dead deer!” to “Woman passionately in love!” That’s a pretty big WTF moment, and when people are thinking, “What The Fuck,” they’re no longer thinking, “Aw, poor dead deer!” Even though Rasputina continues to sing about a dying deer, that confusion lets the listener simultaneously see something else: a woman who is powerlessly overwhelmed by love/sex. The dying deer and the woman in love are the same, one image is super-imposed over the other, and it ends up being like one of those pictures where you’re not sure if you’re looking at a young woman or a hag. Or a candlestick or two faces. That confusion lets the listener pick, to some degree, which one they’re thinking of, and that choice allows the listener to listen to a version of the song that they prefer. They can, from this point on, either listen to a song about a woman who has fallen unexpectedly, completely, and powerlessly in love, OR they can listen to a song about a deer that’s being killed by a hunter.

The song is about both, about a deer and a woman, about dying and about falling in love. It’s a metaphor, and I’ve rarely metaphor that I didn’t like, not one as well-crafted as this.

The third thing that this refrain accomplishes is just as important. What is perhaps the only thing that can take the sting of death away from the dying? Wanting to die. The hunter has just shot the deer, and it’s reaction is love. The hunter kills the deer, and the deer likes it, even if it still regrets what is happening. It’s a kind of rape fantasy, where the horribleness of the act being committed is made more palatable to most readers if the victim of the act enjoys it, if the victim’s thoughts of the attacker are filled with love. To other readers, it becomes all the more horrible.

The next line: “My life is not mine, like a dog or a wife.”

Is that a deer, lamenting the loss of it’s actual life? Or a woman lamenting the loss of freedom caused by her overpowering emotions for a man? Or about a deer lamenting the loss of both it’s life and freedom to a man who is killing it?

Yes, I think that it is.

“He has taken his time, he has taken my life.” Again, deer or woman? Is the fact that he’s taking his time foreplay, or ruthlessness? Or both?

In the confusion, we get to choose. Just don’t forget the whole orgasm/death metaphor that has existed for centuries (if not millennia), because that’s another key to this song, especially in the next stanza:
I could see the steaming, of his cloudy breath,
No, I was not dreaming, I was next to [orgasm].
As I lay there twitching, then my legs he tied.
There was nothing missing, on the day I [climaxed for the first time].

That metaphor switches the scene from that of a deer being gutted, to that of a woman being pleasured. Even those listeners who are not already familiar with the tried and true metaphor of orgasm as death, I think that they’ll likely make the connection.

I have used similar techniques in my own writings, albeit less eloquently. In my story “Satisfied By A Stegosaurus,” one of the obvious challenges was the question of how to make a dinosaur’s penis a point of arousal for readers not into bestiality. After all, I write to arouse more than to simply amuse, so my goal is to get the reader turned on, even when writing something absurd. I rose to the challenge adequately, I think. When the heroine, Layla, is wrestling with the enormous appendage, I insert this flashback into the scene:

When she was younger, new into her womanhood, Layla had once sat in the lap of a handsome warrior of her tribe, a man long since gone missing after a Rhino Men raid. They had kissed, their mouths merging, tongues intertwining, and Layla had allowed the man’s firm thigh to part her legs, so that she was straddling his bare leg. That thigh had been thick with muscle, and as Layla and the warrior had kissed and caressed each other, Layla’s intimate flesh was pressed right up against it, with only the thin layer of Layla’s animal skin clothing between them. Layla’s hips had started rocking then, pressing herself against that man’s strength, feeling the power of that thigh, even through her clothing. The sensation of the strength, of the maleness, of the power filling the space between her legs had been overwhelming. Layla had had her woman’s bliss, crying out her pleasure into the man’s eager mouth, just from riding that mass of male muscle.

Now, for those readers not instantly aroused by dinosaur cock, or by my previous descriptions of what a stegosaurus can do with his tongue, I have created a kind of backdoor for them to enjoy the scene anyway. I have given them this little story-within-a-story to enjoy. I have implanted it into their brain for my further use. I then connected that very human sex story with the dinosaur-on-human sex story that I was in the middle of telling:

Layla had always regretted that she had been too modest that day, that she had not simply pushed the crotch of her covering aside, that she hadn’t been able to feel his naked muscles with the bare flesh of her womanhood. She’d never had another chance with that warrior, never known exactly how it would have felt. Now, though, her entire body wrapped around a gigantic cock, Layla felt that she knew.

Now, for those readers for whom my technique worked, suddenly that dinosaur’s penis is also the penis of a handsome, muscular man. At least, when they read about the dinosaur’s anatomy, they’ll have some level of internal connection to the anatomy of a man, as well as to a mini-story that has already aroused the reader.

I use similar techniques in my story “Cornholed,” where a woman has sex with an animate scarecrow whose penis is an ear of decorative dried corn. Once I decided to write a scarecrow story, you see, I had to decide what the scarecrow was going to use instead of a penis. Real-world scarecrows don’t have them, after all; if they did, then they’d scare more than just the crows. I was going for a Halloween theme, so I eventually settled in on the decorative corn idea. It had the right shape, after all, more or less. That left me with the idea of how to make corn-on-the-cob sexy. Not only corn, but dried corn. Dried corn simply isn’t sexy. It’s almost as un-sexy as a dying deer, in fact

Keeping my magician’s hands busy, I described things in such a way that I downplayed the downsides, and I up-played the upsides. I didn’t really mention the “dried” part during the sex scene. The rough surface of the corn would most likely be painful in real life, but I decided to spin it. Don’t think “rough,” think “ribbed”:

The scarecrow grabbed her by her hips, and slowly, kernel by kernel, slid himself into her. His painstakingly slow speed gave her body full time to adjust to the sensation, to feel every ridge of the strange member that was slipping between her inner labia, starting to stretch the muscles that guarded her inner anatomy.

Slip. Slip. Slip. As each ridge, each row of hard corn slipped into her, her body tightened again to grasp at the groove between kernels. Sarah had heard of condoms that were “ribbed,” supposedly “for her pleasure.” 

She had never experienced the use of one, the feel of one, but Jack’s unusual member was naturally ribbed, and he was certainly using it for her pleasure.

In real life? Probably unpleasant. In a fantasy story about a magical scarecrow coming to life on Halloween, in order to have sex with a woman? I think I made it work for most readers; I’ve only received a few complaints about that point, and any number of compliments. By making the connection between the corn and the condom, I made things a bit easer to swallow.

Language helped too. I use the word “slip,” because it’s a nice, easy, non-rough word, and I used this word to reassure the reader subconsciously that although the surface of the corn might be rough, things are actually going very smoothly in the story. I also describe the girth of the corn as follows:

It was wider than anything, than any cock or any toy, that Sarah had allowed inside of her before.

See what I did there? I compared it to human penises, and to sex toys. I take the potentially unpleasant, and I compare it to the pleasant and familiar. I take the un-sexy, and I compare it to the sexy. I make a connection between the Bad and the Good.

Also, once the nature of the scarecrow’s phallus is established, I backed away from mentioning that it was corn. The readers already knew, and didn’t want to keep their minds thinking about dried corn. So once the sex really starts, I simply refer to it as the scarecrow’s “cock” or his “shaft,” not his “corn-cock,” or his “ear of dry, rough corn,” or anything else that would bring the focus back around to unpleasant things.

Metaphors are quantum entanglement. Metaphors are voodoo. Metaphors join two different things, and they allow a good writer to manipulate one thing by manipulating the other thing.

A dinosaur’s penis is a warrior’s muscular thigh.

An ear of dried corn is a throbbing erection.

A dying deer is a woman having sex.

Metaphors are power. Learn to use them to their fullest.