Writing Kinky
by Alistair Cross
If you write BDSM, expect to be asked two questions. 1) Why do you write BDSM? and 2) Are you kinky in real life?
Here, I will answer the first question to the best of my ability as per my own experience and personal position—and, as always, I will ignore the second question because some things are best left to the imagination. So… why write BDSM…?
The earthy scent of leather? The hiss of the whip across bared flesh? The fusion of senses that leaves the mind in a kaleidoscopic frenzy of anguish and euphoria…?
These are the pleasures and perils of the world behind the blindfold, and when it comes to mastering that razor-fine line between agony and ecstasy, there’s an adult-sized toy box of fun to be had.
BDSM and Erotica are hot, and because of this spanking-new rise in popularity, there are a slew of novels that center on the subject. But why does this topic seduce so many writers? The answer to that question is, of course: It depends on the author. I can only speak for myself, and when it comes to my own books, there are a couple reasons.
First, I must note that I have never written a book about BDSM. It’s a theme that has been suspended from the ropes of my stories, but it has never taken center cage. That being said, the main reason I believe the subject has beaten and writhed its way into my work is very simple. It is because—from an aesthetic viewpoint—it’s interesting.
Whether or not we enjoy a little kink behind the closed doors of our own dungeons, it’s clear that—despite its trendiness at this point—the subject still wields a mighty whip. Sex sells and violence yells. Put the two together and you have a sinfully delicious cocktail that’s nearly impossible for even the most straitlaced teetotaler to refuse.
That’s not to say that the majority of kinky things written are brought to the altar for the simple sake of sales. Personally, I tend to dab a little slap-and-manacle on my stories because I’m fascinated by hybridized emotion and sensation; I like the idea of contrast finding parallel ground and fusing. Plus, the exploration of this kind of paradox is a handy device in fiction because it permits me to examine and exploit the dimensions of my characters without forcing storyline.
Most of all, kink comes up in my writing because that is, very simply, just the way the cat o’ nine tails flails. Any writer knows that there isn’t always an explanation for the behaviors of his or her characters and the subjects of his or her storylines. For whatever reason, kink just kind of comes out of me. When I wrote Sterling Bronson in Beautiful Monster, it seemed as natural as sex-kitten in a corset that he would be a kinkster… and not the kind that follows the rules.
I’d already done extensive research on the topic for the manuscript I wrote previously, so even though Beautiful Monster is mainly a horror novel, I had a vast mental backlog of BDSM material which I was pleased to see make its slap-happy way onto the pages.
There are a lot of reasons to write kink, and no two writers will have the same answer. Maybe it just turns your leather-studded wheel crank. Maybe you’re fit to be tied over the melodrama of the Romance genre and this is your way of giving unattainable stereotypes the thigh-high, Come Fuck-Me boot. Maybe you’re a beginner, still trying to harness the craft of safe, sane, and consensual conquest. Or… maybe you’re not into playing by the rules… maybe you’re interested in everything-butt. That’s the beauty of fiction. Anything goes, and whatever your reasons, I say write on…