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When to Include Negotiation in your BDSM fiction?

A thought has kicked around in my mind recently. When and why should we include negotiation scenes in our BDSM fiction?

Any of us who advocate for BDSM, sex positivity, or write naughty erotic fantasy know what a negotiation is. We know it as well as we know paddles, ropes, and floggers. We know RACK. We know PRICK. Importantly, we know that in real life, these are never optional. You must always discuss roles, limits, desires, and experience levels with a potential scene partner. That’s how we stay safe while we have fun. That’s how we demonstrate that we’re good bottoms and good tops. Even if you played with someone regularly, this still becomes important. I’ve made the mistake myself of not checking in deeply enough with a regular bottom. It got awkward fast.

Why does this matter for fiction? Firstly, we need to represent our community with accuracy. The hilariously bad writing of Fifty Shades stopped being funny when we noticed a safe word was not respected. This leads to a second point: people curious about the scene often start with fiction (I did). How things are depicted in a story shape real-world expectations. This is why community leaders must explicitly say things like “Because someone is a submissive, that does not mean they are your submissive” during newcomer orientations.

Negotiation is like contraceptives: both increase safety. However, my stories never have contraceptives. Contraceptives are boring. Their absence is part of the fantasy. Specifically, I fantasize a sexy world without STIs or unplanned, unconsented, pregnancies. The cum can go wherever it needs. Because that is hot. The protagonist can take her fill from two guys, or three futas, or a horny octopus. It doesn’t matter. She gets used with no concerns other than her own joy.

So can we skip negotiations for the similar reasons? Are negotiations boring and unsexy? Stories were once defined as “life with the boring parts cut out.”

One solution that oozed out of my head noodles is the “pope in the pool” advice. The concept is simple, when delivering something necessary for a story, like exposition for the audience, deliver it in a way that’s fun. Two characters discuss the romantic history of a third character. That’s a boring. Instead, two character discuss the romantic history of a third character, while they play water polo, dodge the other team, and still manage to score a goal.

My next negotiation scene might be veiled in layers of euphemism because the characters are in a baptist church social. Or perhaps the two characters, who love improv so much, sing it to each other during their made-up musical. Perhaps the scene is in the 19th century, occurs in coded letters, and one of them is intercepted. Or could it even happen through under the table text messages while trapped in high stakes business meeting that neither character cares for.

What do you think? How can negotiation be integrated into your sexy story?

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Quarantine in Los Angeles: Find Your Happy Place

In a recent web forum, someone asked me “where’s your happy place?” My happy place, like all of ours in Los Angeles, is closed for corona. Why? Because there is definitely no better place for a virus to spread than a club. Sadly, my favorite goth night club struggles to handle its expenses right now.

Bar Sinister for Goths and Ghouls

Back in college, Bar Sinister helped me celebrate my twenty first birthday in the greatest way ever. Philosophy students already like to wear black. Therefore, a club that played industrial, old school goth, ebm, and eighties synth pop couldn’t be a better choice. My partner at the time had never worn eye shadow, and he allowed me to give him the Robert Smith treatment. Ladies, if he lets you put eye shadow on him he’s a keeper. (Yeah, whatever I didn’t keep him.)

When we walked in, a domme had a male sub bent over. He presented his bare back to her, and she worked him with a pair of floggers in a criss-crossing motion. Her beats hit in time to a Nine Inch Nails track. Naturally, I fell for her and the club right then, and knew it would be my happy place for years to come. We spent the evening drinking, dancing, and tipping the gorgeous go-go girls all night.

Dance. Drink. Kink Play.

My interest in kink, bondage, and exhibitionism goes back as far as I can remember. However, to this day I have conflicted feeling about getting watched. (Had a bad time during the myspace days. Another story.) Bar Sinister’s kink play area helped with that. How?

First, no cameras. The doms there are quite strict, and if they catch you filming they will demand you delete it. (It’s usually the token vanilla idiot, who is out of dress code too). Additionally, they’re safe. When you’re watching the doms perform, you can see the expertise and skill with each strike. I’d submitted to leather floggers before Bar Sin. But never had I done so with an audience, while listening to some of my favorite music. It fulfilled my exhibitionist tendencies in the safest way possible. My partners and I keep going back just for that.

Stupid Virus

Sadly, with the virus, Bar Sinister is closed down for now. Yet the staff and community remains strong. Dj Tommy and Jpeg_01 still spin on their twitch channels. The patrons of the are donating to support the club because we can’t wait for it to return. Between now and then? I’m going to keep listening to the tracks on twitch, dancing in my pajamas, and caring for my leather toys.

That place will be packed with this virus finally goes away.

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Quarantine in Los Angeles: This is Our Life Now

Less than ten minutes ago, my phone buzzed like it was an amber alert. “A kidnapped child?” I thought to myself wondering what monster would do such a thing in a time like this. An anxious part of me screamed to turn on the news, or perhaps don my gas mask, hazmat suit, and dare to go outside scouring license plates like a obsessive suburban mother doing her neighborhood watch.

That buzz was announcement from the city: stay at home. COVID-19 is terrible. Listen to the mayor of Los Angeles. Listen to the CDC. Subtext: ignore the mad resident of the White House.

This is my life now. I’m safe. I’m drawing a paycheck. I’m even working from home, and still like everyone else I am absolutely sad.

We’ve all been cancelling trips. Avoiding nights out. Missing friends. Missing family. I personally haven’t seen a soul other than my primary in the last week and half. Oh wait no, I did see the mail man. He waved at me through the window of my apartment yesterday. How’s that for a boring dystopia?

Yet through it all the one thing I worry the most is not my own job, but the communities and people that have made Los Angeles my home over the last decade. Every small business that I’ve supported, and independent artist I’ve know is having their lives up fucked up here.

So what should I do? I think I’ll support them.

This blog is all about erotic content, but you’ll posts about communities that are adjacent to a kinky life. Think of them as product reviews. If you got some change to spare during this insanity, support some some business.

Coming up, Geeky and Kinky pins.

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