I recently started writing a serial story about an alien who needs sex to live. When I started writing it I wasn’t really thinking about what I wanted to do aside from ‘I really want to write sci-fi, and explore different races, and write kinky space sex‘. As I started writing the second scene I realized I had a chance to write something really interesting. I had a chance to decide what direction I wanted to take the Helfian ha’yf fever in.
Helfians are, as my sister put it, space succubi. They need sex to live. When they don’t get it their body takes over. Their choices are taken away. This is something that happens often in urban fantasy, and probably in scifi as well with these kinds of characters. Where a character is a sexual vampire and will go into a “sex frenzy” if they don’t get it. As I began to write Li’nya’s inner monologue about this fever I realized how frightening it must be.
How would I feel if my choice of when and where to have sex was taken out of my hands? How would I feel if I didn’t have the choice of who I had sex with? If I had to simply find the first available man or woman and fuck them? Because if I didn’t I would get sick, or I would die?
Often times I don’t find this is written as being scary in erotica, or romance. It is written as something that happens and kinky sex results from it, and there aren’t many consequences of those actions. There should be. Psychological consequences for the person it happens to. Psychological consequences for the archetypical succubus’ sexual donor. As well as consequences in relationships.
What happens if the succubus had a partner? Someone they were supposed to be committed to? Of course that brings up the argument why would a succubus-type be in a monogamous relationship? Well, what if they really loved someone? What if they don’t want to be off getting horizontal with other people? What if they just want to be in a monogamous relationship? I realize that the acknowledgment that you find people other than your partner attractive is healthy for any relationship, but acknowledging attraction and being forced to act on it are two different things.
You might be someone who doesn’t do monogamy. I completely support your choice of it. But what if it wasn’t your choice? What if you were told that because you were born with red hair or blue eyes that you are biologically incapable of being monogamous? What if the assumption is that you are unable to be monogamous because of some quirk of your birth? What if the choice was taken away from you?
Wouldn’t that be upsetting? Infuriating?
Now what if you were born with a need for sex? What would you do to keep it something you had control over, something you had a choice in? What would you do to ensure that you got to pick your partner or partners? What would you do to ensure that you got to pick when and where you had sex? What would you do to avoid going into “sex frenzy” and having all of your choices in the matter taken away from you?
I find the idea of it a little frightening, but I find the question of ‘what will Li’nya do to keep her choices her own‘ incredibly interesting. So while I am writing Resplendent I will be exploring that. I will explore Li’nya’s fear of having her choices taken away. I explore whether she will try to be with just one person, or if she will be with multiple people. I will explore how far she will go to avoid ha’yf fever and becoming a base creature.
Some of her choices might be a little bit frightening, perhaps distasteful, or simply extreme, but I hope you will enjoy her story.
Yours thoughtfully,
C.
C. Mcgrue Writes 