Kinky Scribbles installment five! This writing exercise has been so immensely helpful to me as a tool to break past my anxieties as a writer.
I make notes about how long it took me to write and edit because I’m trying to recalibrate my sense of when something is “done enough” to share.
In the past I would write a thing and leave it in my files to collect dust because I was convinced it needed some unknowable quantity of edits, a goal with constantly shifting measures of success. When I limit myself to a scribble, the path becomes so much clearer. It’s been really good practice for me, so I’m going to keep it up for the foreseeable future.
“It’s magic,” Irena whispered. She, too, ran a finger down Mora’s tiny body and the tiny woman felt more beautiful under their shared gaze than she had in years. She felt strangely powerful, in spite of her size… She felt drunk on the feeling, as if the rational part of her were willingly taking a back seat to the glorious rush of pleasure and power.
“And so, shrunk down, strapped to a tiny dildo, little more than decoration for a party she should have been hosting, Mora shuddered and spasmed and cried out with her first orgasm of the day.”
Hello, my lovelies! One of my goals for the new year is to share more imperfect writing, so today I’m sharing a Winter Solstice gift: a 10K word sizeplay story featuring lesbian sex at a holiday party, succubus magic, shrinking, objectification, mind control, humiliation, dubcon, unaware, scissoring, mouthplay, insertion, and more.
🎵it’s the most wonderful time of the year🎵
(because I can trance you to think you’re holiday decor and have you loop thrusting yourself on a dildo like the most nsfw and prettiest ornament on my tree❤️💚❤️💚)
I wrote it in one marathon writing session, and I’m deliberately giving it to you after only two hours of editing today. Why? Because stories that collect digital dust in my files don’t bring pleasure to anyone. Editing is good, but editing as a way to postpone being vulnerable is not serving my goals as a writer. I have to learn that it’s better to let them go before I’m completely satisfied. (I’ll never be completely satisfied.) In an effort to re-calibrate my sense of “this is good enough to release into the wild,” I’m going to share more content with deliberately fewer rounds of editing. I’m tired of holding back, so I’m going to let myself be imperfect. It seems like the only way forward.
One other thing holding me back is that I know I will need content for Kindle once I begin publishing. I write a story and stare at it, deliberating. Should I post it to my website and share it for free? Should I hold onto it and polish it more and publish it on Kindle? Or is it possible that maybe, just maybe, these questions are keeping me frozen in place, not sharing content or moving closer to my goal of publication?
This story is a little messy. It’s a little dark, because I was in a dark place when I wrote it, and all I wanted was to be owned and objectified and to lose myself in pleasing someone else. There were parts I considered cutting, parts I think need more polish and clarity.
But you know what? Sex is messy, too. I have never had a single experience of perfect sex, and if I had waited for perfection I would have missed so many wonderful, beautiful, intense moments of intimacy and connection with real, genuine, messy, and sexy people. I would never have had any sex at all, and sex is one of my favorite pastimes! So. Fuck perfection. Have some free erotica.
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