It’s probably true that people of all kinds have all kinds of kinks, and erotica writers are people, too (OK, there are one or two I have my doubts about.)
As a veteran of the fetish scene as well as a longterm writer (yes, quite simply old) I have occasionally been a bit anoraky about completely implausible kink in erotic fiction, whether it’s stuff that’s physically impossible or stuff that you know would be uncomfortable, unerotic and dangerous if you did it in the way the ignorant or innocent writer is suggesting. And I’ve probably commented more than enough, here there and everywhere, about the annoying trope of female erotica writers as sexually vanilla, inexperienced and harmless – nice girls with no kinks that they would ever actually put into practice, just vivid imaginations.
Having said that, it’s been quite endearing to watch more than one author start to dabble in the real life kinky world – purely for research purposes, honest – and develop a clear taste for actually doing stuff for real as well as writing about it. GO, girls!
Up until recently, I thought I had a good idea of what my particular kinks might be and how to indulge them properly both for work and for play, but there have been one or two little shifts in my thinking. Firstly, someone managed to convince me, after decades of disdain, that rope bondage, done with someone who really likes it, is actually nowhere near as fucking tedious as many of its practitioners would incline you to think. People who like rope will melt faster and more deliciously when you loop the first strands around them than any other type of sub will react to almost any other type of torment. And once I’ve got the hang of a few more knots I will certainly get a fair few stories out of my new little hobby.
The other one I was recently reminded of was the CFnm fetish, which is moderately mild as kinks go and refers to a scenario where the submissive man is starkers and the dominant woman fully dressed – Clothed Female naked male. And the lesson I learned about the benefits of that one is… it doesn’t half come in handy to be playing this way if there is any chance that your co-parent will return home earlier than expected with your young son when you happen to have one of your favourite playthings only half-untied from the bedframe. At least I was able to distract the child while the sub got his pants back on and the silly, sated grin off his face.