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For the record, my husband finished this, marched into the living room, and told me, “You are mean. So mean.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, because I didn’t know he’d even started it. So I just stared blankly.

“I finished your book. You are a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Ohhhhhh. I told you not to read it.”

“I can’t believe you…”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“It made me hot, but you are mean.”

It never makes him hot, for the record. Usually I get that bland, “It was well-written.”

There is nothing that says “I don’t know what to tell you, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings” like “It was well-written.”

I’ll take mean  and hot.

Not that the sex I would’ve had, if I’d been having sex, would’ve been anything like the sex that was going on at the Kink castle. The Kink actors were more like athletes, or stuntmen and -women performing punishing feats, and part of what fascinated me was the ease with which they went in and out of it, the comfort with which they inhabited their bodies, their total self-assurance and sense of unity against those who condemned their practice.

That line, “The Kink actors were more like athletes,” sticks with me.

When I think of the phrase, “sport fucking,” it’s about… hunting. Douchebags at The Club, collecting trophies. That sort of thing.

There’s not a lot of language available for the sort of sex that’s about endurance, physical limits, or feats of strength. By it’s nature, it’s self-centered sex. What can I do? What can I take? How far can I go?

From the article:

“We’re told our entire lives how fragile and delicate our bodies are,” she said. She adopted a tone of mock concern. “‘Don’t go out late at night, someone might mug you.’ ‘You’ve got to be careful, bad things will happen to you.’ And there’s a certain liberation in challenging your body, and getting beaten or distressed in some way and realizing you’re actually tougher than you realized.”

She looked over at Katherine, who had finished her pedicure and had her toes out in front of her. “Know what I mean?”

“Exactly,” Katherine responded.

“It is a very empowering experience to realize you’re not as fragile as you’ve been told your whole life,” said Rain.

When I was writing the first draft of Katie-bug (way back during NaNoWriMo in 2011) I mentioned I was writing a “gangbang” story on tumblr.

And, though I’d expect to get a few lewd comments from the peanut gallery, what I actually collected were a bunch of private messages along the lines of “Omg, why? I don’t get it.”

Ultimately, the answer is, “Because, I thought it’d be hot.”

I thought it’d be hot largely because Public Disgrace is one of those series that does it for me.

San Francisco’s sexual vanguard might overuse words like “consciousness” and “mindfulness,” but the success of their politicization of sex had repercussions that reached across the country. The mind-set could sometimes seem grim, or at least all that talking kind of dampened the feeling of spontaneity. But they meant it: “Polyamory is a decolonizing force,” one person explained to me. “If you want to transform society, it includes our intimate relations.”

I’ll tell you what a gangbang isn’t about: It’s not about making a special connection meeting the emotional needs of a special individual who’s plucked your singular lady flower, because you’re just so perfect and delicate and conventionally attractive (but not intimidatingly so, am I right?)

And, it’s not about the Magnificent and Almighty Penis. Yes, there’s a lot of penis, sure.

But it’s all sort of inadequate penis.

Because, if you’re a girl that likes the idea of access to multiple cocks, then the implication is that one is not enough. You’re hearkening back to the theoretical insatiable cave lady, and she’s scary as hell. Entire systems of law and lineage have been developed to keep that bitch under lock and key.

That intimidation aspect is a thrill for some guys–”The whore can’t get enough.” I guess it’s a way of proving that women aren’t all prudes that will shoot them down?  I don’t know. But I suspect that the idea of not shouldering the entire lady-sating burden may even be a relief to some men.

But not all men.

NLikes posted about gangbangs a few days ago:

It’s not a struggle for me to understand how or why a woman would like a gangbang, whether in fantasy or reality. But it is almost the polar opposite of the way my desire works: I want, I need, to believe that I’m at the absolute center of a woman’s sexual universe, that pleasing me is the most important thing in the world, that I’m the most desirable man in the world (at least, for that particular moment). I’m capable of functioning fine in a relationship which features periodic or frequent reminders that this is a fantasy, but I’m not capable of functioning sexually in a moment in which I don’t feel that.

What’s more, I find the quantum of desire (or willingness) of a woman participating in a gangbang to be more than a little terrifying. Like rather than the danger being of my destroying her, it might go the other way.

I assume that every woman out that has had at least one sexual encounter where there just wasn’t enough stimulation.

Where the motor on the erection boat just puttered right out.

Where she had to reflect sadly on the fact that the flesh was weak and squishy.

I also assume that every man knows it.

There’s a lot of reasons a person might be pretty heavily invested in implying that there’s something wrong with a woman that’s not content with just one cock.

The general consensus appears to be that gangbangs are a disgusting man thing.

Witt to Penny Pax:

“Slightly incredulous, I asked if there were moments then of genuine pleasure. She looked at me like I was crazy. “Yeah. Like the whole thing! The whole thing.”

Click through to Amazon

It’s available now!

Be forewarned: it’s, um… not all sweetness and light.

There’s a reason!

This will be out June 30th!

Katie-bug

What was the working title of this book?

It was Taking Care of Yourself, but I decided that just sounded entirely too much like masturbation porn.

Where did the idea for this book come from?

I am a deeply cynical person. It’s inspired by Fifty Shades of Grey. I wanted to write my version of what happens when someone much wealthier and dominant actually ends up with someone broke and unsuspecting.

What genre does your book fall under?

Smut! What else! It’s erotica. The last one actually sort of nudged up against erotic romance. This one is more ambiguous.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

This is going to sound weird, but I can see Bobby Cannavale and Jennifer Hudson, though, really? I wouldn’t inflict this sort of thing on either of them. They seem like perfectly nice people.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

It’s pretty much about how one woman feels about selling her soul.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I don’t recall. 10 days, maybe?

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Gang bangs and threesomes, people. Gang bangs and threesomes.

I’m sorry. Menage.

Katie-bug. Available June 30th!