Smut Matters with Sonni de Soto
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We’re continuing to celebrate our latest anthology, The Sexy Librarian’s Dirty 30, Vol.2. This is our very first series publication that’s already received wonderful praise by satisfied readers, and we really couldn’t be happier! If you’ve missed our previous posts about the Art & Craft of Erotica and want to get caught up on our exciting #SexySnippets, just click on the following links.
Today’s #WriterlyWisdom is all about taking our characters beyond the limits, baby. Contributing author, Sonni de Soto stops by to discuss female empowerment that’s gained by creating an environment that enables our characters to go off-leash–consequences be damned, so that they can push boundaries and explore sexuality with the readers.
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“Smut Matters”
by
Sonni de Soto
One of my favorite things about erotica is that it’s one of the very few genres written primarily for, by, and about women. It’s an interesting literary space where we get to explore and dissect the female experience in real, meaningful ways. Because so many of these stories star and are centered around women, erotica offers us a place to fully develop female characters who can recognize and grapple with their flaws as well as their virtues.
By giving female characters the agency and choice they deserve, that inevitably means they will make mistakes. They will sometimes do the wrong thing. They will be selfish. They will go against social goods. They will even hurt people.
Because we all do.
And, so often, that is where our most interesting stories lie. The moments that we would rather hide are so often the stories that need to be told most. There are reasons why we so often gravitate to more morally complex characters like Ursula and Harley Quinn, who, so often stand as an example of humanity’s innate desire to revel in that which we know we shouldn’t. To make bad decisions and feel good about it.
And, to be fair, while I think that wickedness is part of their fun and what makes them so appealing, I think the main reason we love them so much is that, when done well, they have the thing we all want: the ability and screw-it-all bravery to do what they want. Damn the consequences.
When done right, things don’t just happen to them; they happen to the world.
Their choices, their actions, make a difference.
For better or worse, they change their world.
In my story, “Do Not Disturb,” you can see my characters throw caution to the wind. You see them test boundaries and go too far. Even though they know there will likely be consequences and regrets later, you watch them push the bounds of play, manipulating it to their advantage and satisfaction. They’re given this space to discover what happens when limits are tested and to find ways to deal with it, even if those ways may not be the nice or even the right thing to do.
For a genre that too often gets dismissed as fluff or smut, erotica allows us a chance to see characters like us make real and often difficult choices. Through those characters, we get to see ourselves triumph. To see us mess-up. To clean up our messes and not just wait to be rescued or taken care of. We get to see how our world changes, for better and for worse, because of the choices we make.
Erotica, when done well, allows us to see how we matter.
Pip swayed, appearing to drown in the swell between the threat she knew she should fight and the promise of what she could let happen.
Vera knew that wicked wave. She was currently wading farther into its depths than was wise as well. With the back of her hand, she swatted Pip’s bare ass, making the trussed-up woman sputter and squeal.
Vera chuckled before switching the camera to the front-facing option and tucking the phone into the thick, tight band of her bra, so it rested between her full breasts. Looking down at herself, she gave a little shimmy, quite pleased with the effect. “Perfect!” Grinning, she stepped closer to Pip. “Look at you.” She shifted her feet until Pip’s image was centered on the screen. “Absolutely fucking gorgeous. Don’t you think?”
Pip was still protesting when Vera picked up the bug zapper again. Yeah, she thought as she pressed the zapper’s button to charge the head, silencing Pip instantly. Struggle. Seeing the woman so distressed shouldn’t excite her. But, God help her, it did.
A sadist at heart, Vera loved the sight, scent, and feel of fear quaking along Pip’s bound body. Normally, Vera kept that side of herself on a tight leash, letting it out only a little at a time, never quite comfortable without that control.
But, in this moment, watching nerves quiver down Pip’s spine, Vera felt her grip on control loosen. She knew she shouldn’t—knew she wouldn’t—but she wanted to claim Pip. Wanted to own and possess a part of her that neither she nor Pip would forget was hers. “Let’s get started. If we hurry, we can get these pictures to your mom just in time for dinner.”
“Please, don’t.”
Vera touched the bug zapper just under the curve of Pip’s toned ass, sending an electric spark from metal to skin that made the woman gasp and arch her back. Vera loved the way the abused muscles clenched and shifted under Pip’s taut skin. “Don’t, what?” Vera’s voice taunted, teased.
“Please, Ma’am,” Pip, usually so sure-sounding, pleaded breathily, “don’t do this.”
Begging was Vera’s soft spot. She loved nothing more than to hear a sub beg, and Pip was so very good at it. So much so that Vera almost let her go.
But rules were rules. And they weren’t done yet.
Vera’s step hitched a bit at that thought. They weren’t done yet. But, after this, they would be. There was no going back. There never was. Vera had had a few partners break this unbreakable rule. And it had broken the relationships. Even though they’d known the consequences of their actions—had been informed and had consented to them—they’d seen Vera’s punishment as unfair. As too far. A deal-breaker. And Vera couldn’t blame them. Sending photos of their scene to everyone on their phone’s contact list…it was extreme.
But the punishment should fit the crime. They’d crossed her most important rule. No phones. No devices. No distractions. It was as much for her partners’ safety as it was for Vera’s peace of mind.
People always talked about limits and boundaries when it came to submissives. But tops needed them too. Sure, phones were loud and obnoxious but, more than that, they could take both people out of the scene in the space of a ring. BDSM took concentration and attention to detail for everyone involved. Vera, among her clients and partners, did scenes involving bondage, fire-play, knife-play, and heavy-impact play; one wrong move on her part—on her partners’ part—could mean a trip to the emergency room. Or worse.
A break-up seemed a small price to pay in comparison to that. Especially if, in the end, they learned the importance of the rule.
Vera spared Pip one last regretful look before steeling herself and tightening her grip on the bug zapper.
Time to teach.
She paced around Pip’s whimpering form, letting the bug zapper zap the woman’s squirming body. Vera’s lips curled with satisfaction as tiny, red, star-like welts rose all over Pip’s luscious body like a constellation. If this was the last time she’d be able to play with Pip, she was going to enjoy it. She savored each gasp and moan, each quiver and quake.
And she wasn’t the only one enjoying it. Vera adjusted the phone in her bra, zooming in on Pip’s ass and the arousal that glistened between her thighs. She tsked. “Look at what we have here.” She reached out and touched the wand to the inside of Pip’s thigh, hoping the camera caught the current of blue power that made Pip squeal and part her thighs away from the toy, giving Vera and the phone a lovely glimpse at Pip’s pussy. Vera slipped two fingers between those full, dark-rose lips. “So wet. So warm.” She dipped them deeper, coating her fingers with the woman’s heat before touching Pip’s clit.
She set down the zapper and took the phone out of her bra. She held it down between Pip’s thighs so she could intimately watch her fingers touch Pip’s clit. “Oh, just look at your pussy clench; I think you like your punishment too much, naughty girl.” She thumbed the phone from photo to video. “I’m sure everyone else will too.”
Sonni de Soto is a Builder of Worlds.
Well, really, she’s a small office cog, churning away in a cubicle, who stealthily writes erotica in email drafts (so it still looks like she working). She’s a kinkster, who loves and lives the lifestyle when she can, and has been since she was tying up her toys as a child. She’s read and loved erotic, kinky, romantic, fun stories for about as long as well, which probably explains her dirty, dirty mind.
Here’s to putting a little more play into kink literature and to sharing real, honest love, whatever form it takes.
Website: sonnidesoto.blogspot.com
Twitter: @sonni_de
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