Challenge - Writing Erotically On A Turn Off

[champagne1982]

From a different thread: Tzara's Why Your Erotic Poem Isn't

"It has been established that different things turn different people on for different reasons. Now the task becomes one of weeding out the elements of eroticism that turn most people on, most of the time. While a fetish can be arousing to the fetishist, does it not remain the poet's job to present the erotic side of the practice in such a way as to stimulate the non-fetishist sensually?

"So, given a challenge of writing an erotic poem about (enter your turnoff here) when you find (enter your turnoff here) sexually unappealing, could you still produce an arousing work by cloaking the idea with words and techniques that are guaranteed to tickle everyone's hypothalamus?"

So, write 'em and post 'em here ... on this thread as a reply.

As a condition of participating in this challenge I really would love it if you commented on what exactly made another person's poem erotic for you. If their efforts didn't work try to be constructive and let the poet know what left you cold. I would appreciate it if NO ONE trashes someone else's work either here or privately. I want to encourage writing rather than putting cannon fodder for the ignorant out in this forum.

PLEASE DO NOT QUOTE SOMEONE ELSE'S ENTIRE POEM IN YOUR REPLY. Simply linking to their post, using the title, or a line will suffice to indicate which piece you're talking about.

(I will work on mine and put it up soon)

 

[HarryHill]

Interesting idea, Champers, although I think I will write mine from the second persons point of view (is that allowed?)

 

[champagne1982]

Interesting idea, Champers, although I think I will write mine from the second persons point of view (is that allowed?)

Anything goes as long as it remains within Lit guidelines of course and tries its damnedest to be erotic. I'm still muddling around with what is a turnoff to me that I could write on without nausea. May be a tougher challenge than I originally bargained on.

Good Luck!

 

[twelveoone]

Anything goes as long as it remains within Lit guidelines of course and tries its damnedest to be erotic. I'm still muddling around with what is a turnoff to me that I could write on without nausea. May be a tougher challenge than I originally bargained on.

Good Luck!

you got that right
you may want to modify...slightly

 

[champagne1982]

you got that right
you may want to modify...slightly

So, what do you suggest changed to make the challenge more palatable? I don't want to have it die before it's even taken up.

 

[twelveoone]

So, what do you suggest changed to make the challenge more palatable? I don't want to have it die before it's even taken up.

actually I was thinking of use to graphic materiel to illustrate something else, I was thinking of WickedEve's Tit Fuck, but it has been changed, I feel denatured. The first one was wildly funny. This new one less so. Butterscotch.

 

[Angeline]

So, what do you suggest changed to make the challenge more palatable? I don't want to have it die before it's even taken up.

I don't see why it needs to be changed. Maybe we just need to look at it from another perspective. Instead of trying to force oneself to make something one dislikes sound appetizing, why not just write the poem as someone else? Consider the fetid mucky love of scat. I cannot think of a more loathsome fetish but some people just love the you know what out of it. Write a poem as that person, whoever he or she is. Or don't use first person to narrate. Or (and this may be harder for some), do use first person, but it's not you.

Remember how Eve use to write all those poems about the most bizarre quirky characters? There was a whole series of them and I'll be damned if I can recall the name of the character.

Anyway my point stands. If you create a character, it shouldn't be a problem.

I have an old poem called Darkroom that I'll try to find (may be on a disc) that does just what this challenge asks. I wrote it for someone else a while back but I wasn't really into the fetish in the poem. If I can find it, I'll post it.

 

[Angeline]

Found it!

Darkroom

In the darkroom he works quietly
as if alone, padding back and forth.
It’s a small space, but he moves
easily in confidence he checks
the time he adjusts the emulsion.

Careful man.
Methodical.

Spacing prints just so,
studying images, thinking
of balance, thinking of ambiguity,
the contradiction of light and dark,
the gray borders where they blend.

“Why is there pleasure in pain?”

His low voice is answered
in the sibilance of her breath.

He rises before her.
His eyes traverse the silk
of her, the velvet skin,
the curve of her hip poised
straining to maintain balance
heel to floor.

The drape of her wrists bound
above her
the purple grosgrain
lying like petals against
the ivory grace of her still limbs.

‘Why is there freedom in control?”

he says arranging the swath of her hair
in shining complement to her breast.

He caresses her cheek,
turns her face
against the bowed arm,
and smiles tenderly.

Their eyes meet.

He traces her smile
behind the leather
and whispers

“Why is this love?”

 

[bogusagain]

heel

I had her walk on six inch heels
not because she could
(for she says of herself
she is not the most elegant of women)
but because she will try
and try hard!

for such an apparent trivial task
is emblematic of who she is
tottering between wanting and needing
her wanting to be objectified
her need to be used

the point is she should fail at this devilish chore
of walking precariously along the line
of what she can and can't achieve
she’ll submit
whether gracefully or through gritted teeth
my red hand imprinted on her behind

 

[HarryHill]

CrackerJack Bogus

 

[champagne1982]

Pony Girl

A filly would not quiver
in her flanks just so
until exhaustion (or hard
use) sent those tremors
rippling through muscles
strained from carrying
the stallion through his first
piercing thrusts against
her virgin womb.

Tell me, my pony. Have you
given your service so virtuously
that I may lustily flog
your hips and withers
in reward? Are you happy
that now you stand with tail
lifted and twitched aside
ready to please and fuck,
when your mistress offers
you as mount for her groom?

 

[twelveoone]

Remember how Eve use to write all those poems about the most bizarre quirky characters? There was a whole series of them and I'll be damned if I can recall the name of the character.

.

Conrad Dimple
I think

 

[Angeline]

Conrad Dimple
I think

Yes! Thank you! I could only remember Hugo and I knew that wasn't it.

I wish I could still read those poems. They are brilliant.

But my point stands. It's important imho to remember that we are not necessarily writing about ourselves when we write poems. Poetry can be fiction and still contain truth. I think people don't recognize that sometimes, yknow?

 

[bogusagain]

ever considered how close to piss
the colour of whisky can be

depends upon the time of day of course
one’s intake of nourishment

two hand cut crystal glasses
such contents demand the best

a tipple of Yamazaki single malt
Japanese has taken my fancy of late

and for you my exotic queen
a tipple of Yorkshire’s finest

 

[Angeline]

Come Hither

Forget the soft hair come undone
the sharp teetering fuck-me heels,
the lipsticked mouth, the lace
filigree caressing the swelling

curves. Forget the long fingers red
nails tapering, earrings' prism
dance against lamp glow, thin chains
delicate encircling wrist, ankle.

Forget the moist luminous skin
scented in ylang-ylang iris violet
that yields to the powerful ocean
beneath the beckoning mound.

Take that costume off, old man.
I'll slap you into submission.

 

[bogusagain]

Take that costume off, old man.
I'll slap you into submission.

Promises! promises!

 

[Angeline]

Promises! promises!

Admit it. You were surprised!

 

[Neonurotic]

SeattleRain had a way with making the sexually unappealing into something of a turn on like her poems, shopping list: aisle 7 and stanley groove joint plyers. As for me, I don't know since I've been thinking on it since this challenge opened and me straining for something to write turns out to be crap. I can't make shit sexy.

 

[champagne1982]

SeattleRain had a way with making the sexually unappealing into something of a turn on like her poems, shopping list: aisle 7 and stanley groove joint plyers. As for me, I don't know since I've been thinking on it since this challenge opened and me straining for something to write turns out to be crap. I can't make shit sexy.

Then don't write about "scat"!

Just kidding. It more than makes up for a neo-poem to know that the challenge has seeded itself into your brain.

Some fetish ideas for those who aren't comfortable with the more degrading fetishes or those that are nearly universally unappealing:

tickling
shibari
cross-dressing (as adroitly as Angeline wrote would be a bonus to all of us who are reading)
role-play - forced, boss & subordinate, teacher-student... This is a broad ranged category but be careful and don't cross lit guidelines in your portrayal.
smoking
food
feet/shoes/stockings​

I can see that I may have imposed a false idea that the fetish needs to "disgust"... not so, it simply must "not turn you on". If it lacks the "instant horniness" standard that arises from sex play that succeeds in arousal then I think that will qualify as a topic.

 

[Angeline]

Then don't write about "scat"!

Just kidding. It more than makes up for a neo-poem to know that the challenge has seeded itself into your brain.

Some fetish ideas for those who aren't comfortable with the more degrading fetishes or those that are nearly universally unappealing:

tickling
shibari
cross-dressing (as adroitly as Angeline wrote would be a bonus to all of us who are reading)
role-play - forced, boss & subordinate, teacher-student... This is a broad ranged category but be careful and don't cross lit guidelines in your portrayal.
smoking
food
feet/shoes/stockings​

I can see that I may have imposed a false idea that the fetish needs to "disgust"... not so, it simply must "not turn you on". If it lacks the "instant horniness" standard that arises from sex play that succeeds in arousal then I think that will qualify as a topic.

I wasn't even trying to be adroit. I was just trying to get Bogus back for his piss poem.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Here in the dark
where nothing exists
except sensation,
I tremble.
For his touch, nothing else.
Silence, ears straining for a sound,
it doesn't come.
Only a flutter across the skin
not encased
and I sink into ecstasy.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Tickled Pink

He must have thought,
as he kissed my feet,
my toes and sole then
tortured me for twenty minutes
straight that, because I laughed
hysterically that it excited me,
as it obviously did him
from his very tumescent state.
But I, eighteen and green,
knew my bladder would let go
causing all encompassing humiliation.
He, on the other hand, almost came.

 

[twelveoone]

Yes! Thank you! I could only remember Hugo and I knew that wasn't it.

I wish I could still read those poems. They are brilliant.

But my point stands. It's important imho to remember that we are not necessarily writing about ourselves when we write poems. Poetry can be fiction and still contain truth. I think people don't recognize that sometimes, yknow?

I really don't know about that one

If I wrote a poem about having great sex with a chimera that I found in a Wal-Mart superstore, sure as shit some one would show up and ask the next day.

that is of course assuming any one reads my "poems"

I'm not kidding, someone once asked...and I told them I just copied it from the police report...
Oh, you're a policeman?

No a detective
Just the facts, ma'am

and
Tristesse promised never to tell

seriously, I was almost prompted to write something about four old doms (note diminutive) on an elevator to hell to meet the Great Sadist

 

[champagne1982]

Encounter in Olive Drab

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Unfinished business

It's not as if giving head is not on our agenda,
she seems eager to kneel between my knees.
The anticipation of the first touch of her lips,
the little sucking kisses she gives to the tip
that makes for floods of precum. I can feel
the muscular pull as she swallows it drawing
me deeper into that strangely mobile tunnel
full of sensations, warm, wet and ecstatic.
Closed eyes heighten the indulgence but
I want to watch her concentrated efforts,
the serious eyes on mine and that engorged
meal she devours. I have learnt to stay flat,
that thrusting causes her to gag and
an end to this bliss so I hold her hair
as if she’s puking while she moves like a piston.
She knows the signs, my rapid breathing,
the struggle not to buck, the swollen cylinder
in her mouth and pulls away to finish
with a hard fist. She swallows copious precum,
expertly mouths me to orgasm but refuses
to swallow the results and neither of us know why.