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Kinky Scribble: What Happens Next

Person holding a red pomelo fruit. Two fingers are pushed inside suggestively.
Photo by Taras Chernus on Unsplash, shared with a Creative Commons License.

 

Kinky Scribble installment seven! If you’re here for the sexy times, skip to the “read more.” Otherwise, continue below for an update on my inspiration for this story, why this is my first scribble in six months, and my hypothesis for why the sexy words finally, finally came. (Pun intended.)

Update! This story now has author-read audio. Enjoy~

 

Inspiration & Responsive vs Spontaneous Sexual Desire

On the surface, my inspiration for this story would seem to originate with this tweet and this tweet. If you ask to go deeper (please, deeper, harder) then I will share with you that the inspiration came from one of my first roleplay sessions with the talented @pseudo_size, a fellow polyamorous kink writer who has brought much inspiration to my life this year. You can read more of his work here, including a fantastic dark noncon commission he did for me in July. This weekend when I found myself fantasizing about two of the characters from that first February session, I messaged him privately to explore the concept, and he was very obliging with his response. It left me thirsty for more, in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.

(Content warning for discussion of mental health.) My regular readers know that I’ve been struggling with trauma and a decreased desire for sex a lot this year. I won’t go into that in detail here, but I have learned a lot about the concept of sexual brakes and sexual accelerators, and how arousal works in relation to stress and mental health. My blog post Sexual Brakes, Trauma, & Kink in the Burning 20’s explores how I have used size kink in stress cycle exercises to release stress, fight depression, and find my way back to arousal.

Even with all that hard work and experimentation, in the last six months I have found my own turn-ons to be rooted firmly in responsive desire—when your brain only gets turned on when something sexy is already happening—and in my case, it’s mostly in contexts with people I trust a great deal, like my partners. Pre-pandemic, finding my turn-on for writing erotica was as easy as turning a faucet, most days. Spontaneous and fun. But in the last half year, the faucet has required some creative encouragement to function at all. For example, trying to find my turn-on for a sex scene in SizeRiot’s HistoricalJuly20 contest required patience, tremendous effort, and a lot of trial and error. It was a mental puzzle, not a physical inspiration.

So how the hell did I wake up Saturday morning spontaneously fantasizing about sex? After so long, how on earth did I finally feel inspired enough to dash off 1600 words of sensually charged erotica? With no deadline, no contest, no context of a loving partner hoping for my next kiss or my next paragraph?

I’ve only experienced spontaneous sexual desire a few times during the pandemic, and each time came directly after some stressor in my life resolved itself. The work crisis ended with a lucky break. The estranged family member answered my messages. I finally asked for help about something that had me burned out. Within 12-24 hours, each time I found myself experiencing wave after wave of spontaneous arousal. It was as if my body took a deep breath and said, “FINALLY! It’s safe enough for sexy times. Release the arousal!” 

A door in my mind opened and erotica came flooding out. 

When I shared the story with Pseudo afterward, I blushed hard at his response. “You really turned a quick few sentences about this concept from me into one of the sexiest pieces of size writing I’ve ever read.”

 

Kinky Scribble recipe & reasoning

A Kinky Scribble is a flash-fiction writing exercise idea I’ve been developing since January 2020, as a tool to break past my anxieties as a writer. Read my past Kinky Scribbles and search the #KinkyScribble tag itself on Twitter. 

The strategy is to produce creative content in a short amount of time, give it minimal edits, and then release it into the wild for others to enjoy. My goals are to practice my fiction-writing skills, to produce more content while still reconnecting with the parts of writing I enjoy most, and to re-calibrate my sense of when something is “done enough” to share.

Feel free to join in! Don’t feel obliged to follow my same format of listing my word count and writing/editing times. It’s really useful to me to re-calibrate my time estimates, and to prove to myself that I can make good content in uncomfortably short time frames.

And speaking of comfort zones, I strongly encourage all #KinkyScribble creators to tag their content so that readers can opt in or out with fully informed consent. I’m not perfect about this, but practice has been helping, and I’m committed to doing better in the future.

 

Kinky Scribble: What Happens Next

(Content includes: F/M/f, cunnilingus, face sitting, teasing, begging, PIV sex, growth/shrinking, consensual non-monogamy, insertion)

1657 words; 1.5 hours writing time, 20 minutes of editing in two rounds

 

Read the story

TEXT VERSION: Read the text version of the story behind the cut.

AUDIO VERSION: Please enjoy this free 15-minute author-read audio file.

 

Kinky Scribbles: Nude on a Cloth Napkin

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.

Nude on a Cloth Napkin

(F/m, Giantess, male tiny, shrinking, mouthplay, food play, adultery, noncon, nudity, humiliation)

Note: the word napkin is US usage, not UK where it apparently means a diaper for a baby. Here it’s the piece of cloth you use to clean up during a meal.

465 words, 45 mins writing, 20 mins editing

Kinky Scribbles: Body Pillow

Today’s kinky scribble is brought to you by my cold, frustrated sizefeels this morning. Thanks, size dysmorphia.

And far more sincere thanks to my friend Dick, the Micro Giant, who let me roleplay this little comfort scene off and on today to work through these feelings.

Ten minutes. Just a scribble. Let go of whatever you think this needs to be, Elle. Just write.

(Ten minutes turned into an hour and a half of writing, with another half hour of edits. I never know if I should feel pleased at my accomplishment when this happens, or annoyed with my inability to keep my projects small. I do feel really good about this one, though.)


Kinky Scribbles: Body Pillow

(M/f, male Giant, female tiny, shrinking, cuddles, comfort)
1020 words, est. 1.5 hours of writing, 0.5 hours of editing

Kinky Scribbles: First Kiss

I have had the good luck to end up with a writing coach for the month of January, and she’s helping me figure out ways to lower the stakes of writing more often, both for erotica and for my mainstream projects.

Step one is to attempt what I’m calling “writing scribbles” that will be quick, short, relatively unplanned, and can have only one round of edits before sharing with the world.

This is basically what I achieved many times over with Tumblr’s format, and what I’ve been avoiding with my shiny personal website for the last year. As if I went from a commuter train full of conversations with friends and acquaintances I see regularly, to a personal vehicle where I make all the decisions of where to go, and I do it alone, and have to roll down the window or deliberately invite people inside to talk to them. It’s clunky, lonely, and it feels like the stakes are higher (silly ideas about identity, success, connection) if I decide to go in the wrong direction or say the wrong thing.

Fuck the wrong thing. Nothing is wrong–it’s either unethical, painful, uncomfortable, or various shades of awkward. I might regret a thing, but who cares? It’s on my website, and I’m in control of whether or not it continues to see the light of day. I’m going to take the steps to make sure it’s as ethical as I can make it, by offering tags and informed consent and giving credit to other writers and artists. As for pain, that can heal. Discomfort and awkwardness are also hallmarks of change and growth. Nobody ever made progress or created something wonderful by staying 100% comfortable.

Scribbles can be drawing, writing, any kind of creative art. The point is that it has to be quick, simple, and low-stakes.

At this point in my process, I’m not allowed to turn it into a big thing or make extra work for myself with extra ideas. I’m not adding it to my mainstream works. I’m sticking to kinky content only, because it’s the one kind of writing that brings me the most joy and escapism right now. And also because it’s a way to keep my scope small.

Ironically for someone with size dysmorphia, I have no idea how to keep my ideas and goals small.

I know how to “go big or go home” in other parts of my life, but over the years I’ve let it become too overwhelming with writing because I get cloudy with assumptions of what it means to be a writer and what it means to be “enough.” (Fuck you very much, Impostor Syndrome.) Even discussing the scribbles concept with the coach and how to fit 10 minutes into my schedule a week, I quickly morphed the discussion into how I could carve out 30 minutes a day, every day. When she pointed that out and reminded me that I am already enough regardless of how many minutes I can or can’t put into my schedule right now, I burst into tears.

Fuck going big all the time, fuck that overachiever mindset that’s burned me out so many times. Fuck the toxic productivity culture of never believing I’m enough.

I want to learn how to go small. I’m a sizeshifter, damnit. This is a skill I can develop, just like any other. I just need to find a way to show up and do the work without self-sabotaging all my efforts with last-minute deadline scrambles and other misguided attempts at staying comfortably far away from risk and failure.

Ornamental: An erotic holiday story

A red Christmas tree ornament on a wooden table.
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash, shared with a Creative Commons License: https://unsplash.com/photos/AF_4tBQjdtc

“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: an 11K word sizeplay story featuring lesbian sex at a holiday party, succubus magic, shrinking, objectification, mind control, humiliation, dubcon, unaware, scissoring, mouthplay, insertion, and so many orgasms I literally stopped counting.

 

Inspiration

I was inspired by this tweet from @CallMeIthaca:

I responded with this retweet, but the fantasy stayed with me and I decided to try it in a story.

[Author’s note from 2021:

Now that I have more experience on Twitter, I’ve realized in hindsight that writing her fantasy into a story without permission and then quote tweeting her original tweet was not an okay thing to do. Ithaca and I are not mutuals and don’t have any kind of friendship or relationship. I need to own that I didn’t comment on her tweet or DM her to ask permission to explore her idea OR put a size-kink spin on it, and that’s a problem.

We all take inspiration from a lot of places, and people participate in kinky twitter partly as a way to share our fantasies, but do that for a variety of reasons. Sometimes a person is tweeting a fantasy for the purpose of inviting strangers to interact with them in that fantasy; sometimes a person tweets a fantasy with the hope other creatives will take that idea and run with it; but in either case, you don’t know until you ask. Just like a sexy piece of clothing is not an open invitation to do something sexual to a person, sexy tweets are not open invitations to start roleplaying publicly.

This isn’t exactly roleplay, but I didn’t ask. I ran with the idea, and then I basically involved her in my version of the fantasy by quote tweeting her original with my new story inspired by it. That’s a problem, too. If I’d gotten permission and she was into that, quote tweeting in this way would have been a fun way to share the work, give her credit, and promote her account. I think I did it this way because I started in Tumblr, and that platform revolved around sharing and building on others’ work. But it’s not how Twitter works. Doing that without asking was crossing some boundaries, and I am sorry for that. I DM’d her an apology. She was gracious and understanding, and I have decided to leave this up because I would prefer that others be able to learn from my mistake.]

 

Writing it quickly, sharing it quickly

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.

[Update on 11/27/20: I wanted to share this again but couldn’t resist one more round of edits for clarity and consistency. I should probably ask someone to tie me up before I go in for more…]

“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…

 

 

Read the full story behind the cut.