Leonard refused to let me go. He stroked my back, his breath in my ear. He began purring, which was bizarre. The sound rumbled in his chest, making him vibrate. He’s never done that before. It reminded me a bit of a cat, the sound soothing, as well as intimate and appealing. I felt myself softening towards him, melting into the warmth and comfort of his matted fur. He carried me to an animal pelt that had been placed over a pile of straw. The atmosphere in the barn suddenly shifted…my fear had morphed into something different, and my sole focus was on my Bigfoot.
–Moan For Bigfoot, Volume 1, by Virginia Wade
Writing Bigfoot porn, a sub-genre of “cryptozoological erotica” has earned self-published author Virginia Wade over thirty grand a month. That’s a lot of people buying books about having sex with a Sasquatch, and if a lot of people are buying, it must have appeal. If it has appeal, I must understand why. I suffer from rabid curiosity of things that seem at first strange and deviant, which has lead me to watch both Human Centipede movies and view more celebrity sex tapes than most (I still refuse to watch Dustin Diamond’s. I have limits.) I don’t judge those buying; what better way to explore sexual proclivities than through the written word? Also, my analytical brain needed to know the logistics of how one comes to have sex with a Sasquatch.
If we were casually having drinks in a bar and I let it drop that I had just “read Bigfoot porn,” your second question after what did you say? would likely be: did you enjoy it? I’d answer: It depends how you define “enjoy.” I wasn’t writhing in my seat, overcome with arousal (I read most of it on the the train, doing the awkward hunch one does when reading smut on your Kindle in public.) I had questions and needed answers. What are the logistics of such trysts? How does she justify the existence of Bigfoot? I will give Virginia Wade credit, she knows people will be craving such explanations, and she does provide plenty of, shall we say, logistics.
The heroine of our journey is Porsche, a hot, busty just-legal blonde (NO, THAT CANNOT BE HER NAME? – Ed.). We meet her on a camping trip with her friends which is chaperoned by friends’ father. We get no further than page three for Porsche sneaking into the dad’s tent for some forbidden doggy-style action. There’s plenty of moaning, thrusting, exploding, filling, and all the tropes you would expect from a mass market erotica, or say, a letter to Penthouse. At least we get right to the sex. Some of us (me) don’t care about the stolen glances or meet-cute, we just want some stone-cold banging right in Chapter One.
A few more steps into the woods finds Porsche and her female companions kidnapped, taken to a remote cabin, and held captive by an old woman and her Sasquatch “son” Leonard. Here’s a species fun fact: Sasquatches can’t produce females themselves, so they have to kidnap human women to breed with them. Does that sound erotic to you? I wasn’t buying it. Especially when Leonard gets his way with Porsche.
Here’s where the parameters of consent get blurry: Porsche “gives in” and can’t believe how GOOD it feels. As in Sasquatches are straight up sex EXPERTS. It seems they have evolved to be master lovemakers; their phalluses are made of a sponge-like flesh, so they can fit in almost any space (convenient!), and their tongues are long and pliable, perfect for cunnilingus (of course!) Even if they have to force them at first, they have evolved to guarantee a woman will be sexually satisfied. Which, by this logic, the rape and capture is necessary (for the beasts) because the women will enjoy themselves once they give in. I suppose a girl doesn’t just meet a Bigfoot at the local grocery store, the creature has to overcome her somehow. Although I didn’t expect rape on the menu.
The Sasquatch rape almost made me put the book down. Almost. I was still too curious to see where is was leading and to understand how others could find it titillating. Written erotica is a safe way to fulfill that fantasy, so if someone does have a rape fantasy, written erotica is the way to go. I’d like to think that is a whole race of creatures who are biologically evolved to to please women is, I suppose, intriguing. It appeals to the notion that men don’t understand women’s sexuality, and never will. Cue a million “can’t find the clitoris” jokes from bad stand-up open mics. Sure, the book could describe how the Bigfoot’s tongue was able to please every nook and cranny in Porsche’s woman cave, but I couldn’t get the past that this was an ape man and he could barely say two words, much less carry on an intelligent conversation about post-punk indie bands at the turn of the 21st century (now you know what my erotic fantasies are) or any other human conversation. Leonard has the vocabulary of say, Animal of The Muppets. (“Me like fucking Porsche!”; “Nice ass, Porsche!”)
Once Leonard has given multiple lathings and thrustings to Porsche and friends, he takes them to rejoin his tribe, a nomadic group with a social hierarchy and like him, have small grasp on the English language. Porsche’s sense of vanity seems to overcome her horror of being raped and kidnapped. She basks in being worshipped by this tribe of Sasquatches. So much so, in fact, that she is always game their tradition of nightly orgies. She converses with her lover Leonard in stunted telegram speech, but she’s just too vain to not to let being the object of desire cause her fall in love. Which she does, with Leonard. Because Sasquatch cock is just that good.
I say Stockholm syndrome, but Virginia posits that Porsche likes how Leonard protects her, takes care of her basic needs and gets possessive of her. What Porsche provides Leonard is the sasquatches is sexual access to a hot human bod and the possibility of Sasquatch babies. Yes, this just screams IFFY with a flashing neon sign, but the character of Porsche personally finds this ideal, and as a reader, I am trying my best to go on this literary journey with her. Porsche really gets off on gaining unconditional love and lust from the tribe, and that in itself is certainly a legitimate sexual fantasy.
But there’s still the issue of the Sasquatches not being human. Well, technically they are all half-human, but they are not of the same species. There are many mentions of their tattered hairy bodies and often smell of wet dog. They are not of our species. However, they indicate their arousal and desire for sex, so it’s not as if this is an innocent, non-consensual being. I’ll set aside the fact they are animals (can we really?) and really focus on the “special” part. They are beings that Porsche has discovered, a secret only she and other women in the tribe (past kidnap victims) share. There’s the specialness of it, it’s a sexual experience that no one else has and no one else will. Conceptually, that is erotic. Imagine you traveled to a secret village of hot, lusty guys and gals that only you knew about and they worshipped your body? I’d book a one-way ticket.
Porsche takes her role as their resident sexy lady very seriously by deflowering the younger Sasquatches; she feels it is her duty. She births a Sasquatch baby with Leonard. Luckily, the other human women of the tribe help her raise him (talk about a fantasy.) Her motherhood provides the reader with more deviant erotic possibilities as she often lets the other adult sasquatches nurse off her to relieve some of her aching, milk-filled breasts. Or, one could say, she is the giver and provider of sustenance to this tribe. Literally. When you’re reading a book that details countless Sasquatch orgies, I can’t suddenly pick and choose what is an acceptable sexual fantasy for someone. We’ve already ventured into nebulous territory.
Gradually, around volume four (of six), the books become less about shuddering orgasms and throbbing members and turns into a case study on the general survival skills of a nomadic tribe, and the discovery and capture of these creatures by government scientists. However, Porsche, as their unofficial queen, shows the scientists how loving these Bigfoot can actually be (by giving them a front row seat to their nightly orgies) and they change their mind and allow the Bigfoots to be free, and in exchange continue to monitor their whereabouts.
I should be praising the author for trying to inject some narrative suspense and plot devices, but if I’m going to read Bigfoot porn, I want to read Bigfoot porn. Fortunately, I learned several things about wilderness survival and human evolution as a side bonus to reading about wild, throbbing Bigfoot sex. There’s also some side stories about Bigfoot hunters, a hunky (human) Park Ranger, and Porsche’s sister. But really, these plot devices are all variations on the same fill-in-the-blank and insert-this-into-that sex scenes.
It quickly becomes formulaic: their astounding cocks glisten, Porsche and her gals suck them off, they enter to the “hilt,” there’s grinding and thrusting and waist grabbing, being sent “over the edge,” Porsche screaming “oh, shit!” and “rrrrooooooaaaarrrggghhhs” from the Bigfoots. In a practical note, there always seems to be a hot spring within a short distance to clean off. Because let’s be real, orgies can get messy. Did I mention that Sasquatches ejaculate a preposterous amount of semen? Off course they do; they gotta impregnate those ladies, stat.
As literature, this ain’t no Joyce Carol Oates. It’s probably not even V.C. Andrews. The trite dialogue and simplistic writing may also be an homage to mass market “romance,” but I am quite certain that there’s no satirical intent. Porsche, our heroine and narrator, is flat-out boring. I suppose this is so she can serve as vessel that we can project our fantasies on, and her character is defined by how much the others desire her and protect her. Although, in a rare moment of unique thought, she mentions that she is glad to roam the mountains endlessly with no place to camp because it will help her lose her baby weight. Is she right or is she right, ladies?
Ultimately, six volumes later, despite being bored with the Sasquatch sex, I can confidently say that I actually do get the appeal of these books and this genre. Let’s think of it this way: you are brought into your own special world that only you know about where you are the object of everyone’s desire and you control those beings with your sexual power. These beings want nothing more than to please you sexually. In fact they HAVE to in order for their species to survive. There’s also a fearful element, which for some, is tantalizing. The sasquatches are also polyamorous, giving a woman more sexual freedom than in the traditional world; she is not shamed for her promiscuity, she is rewarded for it. Sure, she’ll have to have their babies whether she wants to or not, but there are tons of people taking care of it, making motherhood a community responsibility.
The protagonists in erotica often serve as a proxy for the reader. These (usually) women are chosen, sought out by these foreign creatures, whether it be aliens, Bigfoots or Frankenstein, They are chosen for a reason- their beauty, sexuality, or their special “otherness.” And isn’t feeling special, feeling wanted, really at the heart of it all? Isn’t that the ultimate fantasy?
Rest assured I will read the next few volumes when they are released. Above all, I am a completionist.
Tags: bigfoot, books, cryptozoology, erotica, research, robin hardwick
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WHAT
Volume four OF SIX?
Porsche screaming “oh, shit!” and “rrrrooooooaaaarrrggghhhs” from the Bigfoots.
OH my god I am shaking with laughter at my desk as I don’t want to explain this to my coworkers.
Life is a rich tapestry.
PORSCHE? No.
Nope.
So… is there ever any allusion to like… “getting her motor running?” “Putting the pedal to the metal.” “Bigfoot you got the keys. Shut up and drive.”
Maybe the author was thinking, like, Portia. But, um, updated.
Nope, I got nothing.
“Bigfoot purred like a cat, and I purred like my namesake.”
“He got my engine revving, all right.”
“Even though Leonard technically hotwired me because I was kidnapped and raped, he cared enough to put me on his insurance.”
“And in a twist of fate, he put HIS car in MY garage.”
That’ll be $30,000 plz.
There has never been a more appropriate occasion for use of the following emoticon:
o_O
Robin, you are a hero for reading these. I’d really appreciate it if you read the dinosaur erotica next, because I don’t want to read it.
Yes. I was just coming down here to request this. I want to know about the dinosaur erotica!
No, cuttlefish porn first!
I came down here hoping “Someone To Cuttle” would be mentioned and I was NOT DISAPPOINTED. Bless you.
I may or may not have just found a book called ‘the bodice raptor’ for 77p. Am so tempted…
Do itttttttttt
Mounted by the minotaur was free so I’ve got that…
*beams*
This is the blurb on the amazon page: “Callie is a former track star and current New York University coed. She’s heard of the Garden of Unearthly Delights–and the urban legends about women being kidnapped to service the monsters’ ravenous sexual appetites–but she’s never seen the garden in person until the night she’s wrenched from her bed, drugged, and abandoned in the garden to fight for her life.
Fleeing hell hounds intent on taking their pound of pleasure before their pound of flesh, Callie seeks refuge in the Minotaur’s maze. She’s heard the Minotaur is a hideous man-beast with the head of an ox, the body of man covered in a dark brown pelt, and the evil temper of the devil himself, but there’s no other place to hide.
Imagine Callie’s surprise when she learns the Minotaur has a thing for blondes and knows just what it takes to please this feisty college girl. But will a night of primal satisfaction in the beast’s arms be enough? Or will Callie crave more than a one night stand?”
This sounds hilarious once you get past the drugging and kidnapping premise, which does put me off somewhat but hey, suspension of disbelief given the rest of the storyline…
Sweet Christ.
Oh my god that’s incredible. I am so, so sad at this moment that my Kindle is owned by my work, because otherwise I would download that book yesterday.
I have read it. I will not be in my bunk.
It had the phrase ‘hot molten sperm’ in it.
ow AND ew.
Well quite. I am hoping the (ahem) four dragony ones I may or may not have found on one of the free ebook sites will be better.
Please tell me one is called, “Tipping the Scales,” a la “Tipping the Velvet.”
That would be better. In fact they’re ‘doing the dragon’, ‘the dragon in me’, ‘mating in flight’ and ‘stealing from a dragon’. I am now quite tempted to write ‘tipping the scales’ though.
“The Wyrm and His Woman”
“Falling in Love is a Drag…on.”
Holy shit.
You’re so welcome. I would read the dinosaur porn, more to know which type is the best lay.
I’m not going to read this post because I actually just suggested this as an upcoming read for my bizarro/paranormal erotica book club and I don’t want to be spoiled.
I swear I am not making any of this up. Last month we read a novella called “Time Pimp,” and the month before we read a book in a series of shapeshifter erotica, called “The Shark Who Rode A Seahorse.” Was there mpreg outta nowhere? You betcha.
It took me a minute to figure out what “mpreg” means, but I am delighted to discover that there is a realm where this phrase is so common that it needs no explanation.
It is equally delightful to me that there is a realm in which people DON’T know this yet. The way the internet brings people together is amazing.
I got to explain the term mpreg to my SO last week. Best. Dinner Conversation. Ever.
I honestly thought she meant the ebook included an .mepg video file. I was impressed by the mixing of mediums!
Out of nowhere? Why else would you even HAVE a seahorse?
I learned that after I read the book! Somehow I never knew that about seahorses. It seemed very out-of-nowhere while I was reading it, because the mpreg was just there and not sexualized in any way.
okay
is Time Pimp as fantastic as it sounds
It obviously has some pretty backward ideas about the treatment of women, but if you can look past that, oh my yes.
Also Ayn Rand is a character and every time she shows up the author goes out of his way to describe her as basically the worst person who has ever lived.
I must find a copy of Time Pimp immediately.
http://www.amazon.com/Time-Pimp-Garrett-Cook-eboo…
Replying to myself because I can’t believe I forgot to mention this other incredible piece of Bigfoot erotica: <a href=”http://www.sweetprudence.com” target=”_blank”>www.sweetprudence.com. My mom made me watch this and then adorably fast-forwarded through all the sex scenes (I was like 26 at the time).
How does one join this book club? It sounds amazing.
The group is set up through Facebook and we meet via Skype! Is there a PM function here anywhere? I can get you the info.
So, I appear to only have contacts that are tied to my real name… unless you can message me on tumblr where I’m nervous-breakdown-hat
Could I get in on this amazing action? My gmail is “thelazygourmet”.
Yessss, I need to know this too. Email me at hawthorn.tree[AT]gmx.com?
Is… Is there a place on the internet where the reading selections for the book club are published? Because I read the seahorse/shark one last night (SO RIDICULOUS) and feel like I need more of this hilarity in my life.
she mentions that she is glad to roam the mountains endlessly with no place to camp because it will help her lose her baby weight. Is she right or is she right, ladies?
So… she has abandoned human companionship and decamped to live with the Sasquatches in the wild, she has become the living embodiment of a fertility goddess to a community of adoring creatures, she is the very exemplar of the beauty of pregnancy and the giving of life… and she is still not free of the pestering anxiety of “baby weight”? THIS IS SOME BULLSHIT I WILL NOT HAVE IT.
[Yes, in this collection of rape tropes and interspecies sexuality, that is the aspect that jumped out to me as particularly upsetting. Imaginary rape scenarios and the notion of walking away from human judgments and standards all fit into a particular fantasy niche, but to have your chief female character abandon the trappings and mores of modern industrialized human society but still retain its peculiar obsession with the narrow beauty parameters allowed for women’s bodies just bums me out.]
This also upset me!! Like, damn girl, Bigfoot will love your body no matter what! Have fun! Be free!
Right? If you, the author, want to sell an audience on a Bigfoot-rape fantasy that positions the protagonist (and by extension, the reader) as the central figure in a cross-species body-worship cult of unstinting acceptance and adoration in a landscape of unfettered wilderness, you’re going to have to stop harping on that Get A Bikini Body! nonsense.
[edited to add: except APPARENTLY NOT, since she’s selling people on this fantasy to the tune of 30 thou a month, so what do I know? Here’s what I know: having your absurdist-fantasy fertility-goddess Sasquatch mama waste a split second in concern over her baby belly makes me really, really sad.]
It was ridiculous. Several times throughout the book it was mentioned how hot she was. It was very Jessica Wakefield-esque.
No, Porsche, if you let the other Bigfoots suckle, you’re never going to stop producing so much milk! You’re just setting yourself up for oversupply problems!
Clearly, the biggest plot hole in this entire series.
Given everything else, it really doesn’t seem that far-fetched that the Sasquatch tribe would plan their travels around the locations of hotsprings.
I will give them that.
THIRTY GRAND A MONTH FUCK THIS SHIT I’M SHUTTERING THIS TWO-BIT BLOG AND WRITING BIGFOOT PORN, I WANT TO BE RICH
Yes please how do I get that job I COULD DO IT
If I could make even a grand a month (WHO AM I KIDDING, A GRAND TOTAL WOULD BE FINE) writing any erotica at all, I would cheerfully do it. And by “cheerfully,” I mean “zestfully.” And by “zestfully,” I mean “lustily.” And by “lustily,” I mean… well, you all know what I mean*.
*This kind of winking omission is not going to fly when I’m writing chupacabra erotica, is it?
If Fanfic has taught me anything it’s that all porn writing starts out satirical and ironic and slowly becomes very, very serious.
One of the great flaws I have come to accept about myself: I end up treating EVERYTHING with academic seriousness. Reviewing a variety show? Let’s talk about the history and social role of the variety show in its heyday. Puppy video? There are some fascinating tacit expectations that made it soar to viral fame. Bigfoot porn? Let’s look at the beauty-culture implications of this offhand remark. UGH, SHUT IT, ME.
Can you even imagine what my chupacabra porn would devolve into?
“Well I’m not exactly aroused but I AM learning many fascinating details about rural Mexico’s history with colonialism and land-use.”
That is exactly where my chupacabra erotica* would go, with [I’m just spitballin’ here] a probable off-shoot exploring how reported chupacabra visitations in the U.S. are associated with unconscious anxieties about the exploitation of expatriate workers with a specific fixation on migrant labor reflected in the cryptid’s reportedly peripatetic travels. Sooooooo sexy.
*Let it be known that when I mentioned the 30-thou Bigfoot erotica, my husband cheerfully encouraged me to “follow your dreams, baby,” but when I posited the notion of chupacabra porn, he shuddered. “That’s not sexy!”
I raised an eyebrow at the implication that he finds Sasquatch sexy but not chupacabras; he countered “Well, no, but at least it’s a hominid.” He has a point.
I actually find the hominid thing more creepy than something totally ‘other’. But then I fear monkeys and apes because they’re like people but not quite, so that may just be a weirdness of mine.
I am glad you have accepted this aspect of yourself, but I must firmly dispute your characterization. Your serious thoughts are not the result of a flaw, my friend. You have a gift. You alternately inspire us and entertain us. And you make people like me feel a little less alone with what we thought were our uniquely odd takes on these subjects. E, you are a delight.
I hear and appreciate what you’re saying, and it’s who I am so I accept it and make the most of it, but it would be useful to be able to switch that part off sometimes and just goof on stuff instead of always going into full-analysis mode.
CHUPACABROTICA. Do it.
I read your comment to my husband and he asked (quite logically, really) why was I doing Corporate tech implementations and tech writing when instead I could be on a yacht in Portofino writing Komodo Dragon porn.
Reexamination of life choices in progress.
From the manufacturing economy to the service economy to the porno economy; soon we will abandon earthly things outright and simply sell Nessie genderswap incest back and forth to each other on our way to an undying golden age.
This is one of those sentences, like the ones you sometimes find in, say, Woolf, that will haunt me as “sentence I most wish I had written myself.”
One time I wrote interactive giantess porn as a Craigslist gig. Based on my hourly rate, I would only have made $4,800 a month if I did that full time. I feel robbed.
Interactive? Like, a choose your own adventure?
It’s Sunday afternoon, and you’re hanging out in the supermarket doing generic daily everyman behaviors. Suddenly you round the aisle and see a giant! “Oh!” you say, “What an unusual situation! I feel erotically compelled to fuck this giant!”
Do you:
Fuck the giant, turn to page 14
Fuck the giant, turn to page 69
Masturbate to the giant, turn to page 80
I bet it’s hard to flip to page 14 while keeping a finger between the pages with only one hand.
Page 80:
You suddenly find yourself in a giant-sized grocery store. The giantess picks you up and drops you in a pint of cream for an unexpectedly erotic milk bath.
(yes, actual scenario)
Well, I was on one end of the chat, and my client was on the other end! I described what I was doing and they would describe how they responded. Like a text-based phone sex line.
“does that sound erotic to you”
NOTHING SOUNDS EROTIC TO ME
I can’t suddenly pick and choose what is an acceptable sexual fantasy for someone.
…isn’t anything an acceptable sexual fantasy? I thought that was the whole point of fantasy.
“These (usually) women are chosen, sought out by these foreign creatures, whether it be aliens, Bigfoots or Frankenstein, They are chosen for a reason- their beauty, sexuality, or their special ‘otherness.'”
I somehow skimmed this sentence and read, “…whether it be aliens or Benjamin Franklins…” which is just a whole different kind of erotica that may as yet be an untapped (ha) market? Founding Father erotica.
“George Washington smiled at her and slowly, erotically, removed his wooden teeth. ‘Are you ready, babe? You’re about to experience nothing but gum,’ he mumbled.”
brb going to write presidential erotica
Report back with the fruits of your labor!
“Giving em the ol’ John Hancock.”
http://hailtotheslash.com/
Do you have any resources to suggest on figuring out what to write? I have some ideas but I'd like to know what has a chance of selling!
Bigfoots?
Bigfeet?
Bigfeets?
OK, I need further information about this sideline. Can we discuss further?
I am delighted & a little confounded & definitely impressed by this whole thing.
But… what’s the first question I would ask after “What did you say?”
This is one of those sentences, like the ones you sometimes find in, say, Woolf, that will haunt me as "sentence I most wish I had written myself."