Image
credit: Pixabay
By
Lisabet Sarai
taboo
(n): A social or religious custom prohibiting or restricting a
particular practice or forbidding association with a particular
person, place, or thing.
Origin: Late 18th century: from Tongan tabu ‘set apart, forbidden’; introduced into English by Captain Cook.
Every
society has forbidden practices, particularly with regard to sex.
Incest, bestiality, pederasty and necrophilia are among the most
common sexual prohibitions. Many cultures condemn same-sex intimacy,
sodomy and extra-marital sex. In some places, even today, any type of
physical contact between unmarried males and females will be
condemned and punished.
Humans
are perverse creatures, though. We delight in breaking the rules. The
more serious the taboo, the greater emotional charge associated with
its violation. Fear mingles with desire to make the forbidden
experience more exciting and intense than sanctioned sexual behavior.
Erotic
authors are experts in exploiting taboos. We push our characters to
step over the lines of propriety: to fuck strangers in a dark alley;
to beg for a spanking; to watch a teenage brother jack off then slip
into his room naked. Not every erotic tale depends on the flaunting
of taboos, but I suspect that the majority incorporate some aspects
of the forbidden, or at least, the officially frowned upon. Nice
girls don’t get up on stage and take off their clothes. Proper,
masculine husbands don’t get aroused watching their wives get
serviced by big-cocked studs. Modern, emancipated women don’t allow
themselves to be tied up and whipped by bossy dominants. In the world
of erotica (though not in erotic romance), it’s rather unusual to
find sex that conforms to social norms.
Some
taboos are enforced by law, or by rules made because of fear of the
law. In the United States (though not in some other countries), you
can write about mother-son, daddy-daughter, or sister-doggy sex, but
Amazon and many other outlets won’t publish or distribute your
naughty tales. On the other hand, sex between teens (or heaven
forbid, pre-teens) is strictly sanctioned. Porn film-makers are
required to certify and document the fact that all their performers
are over eighteen.
Other
restrictions are based on convention. Many readers strongly reject
any tale with adulterous themes, despite (or maybe because of) the
large amount of cheating that goes on in the real world.
What
I find most fascinating, though, is the way taboos shift. Back in
Victorian times, a flash of ankle was considered terribly improper.
Now tiny bikinis that cover next to nothing are perfectly acceptable
on public beaches – and Victorian-style corsets are the height of
sexiness!
Two
or three decades ago, homoerotic activity fell into the prohibited
category. Same-sex stories often focused on first-time scenarios, and
included a lot of fear, shame and soul-searching. As societal
attitudes have changed and become more tolerant and inclusive, LGBTQ
fiction has changed as well. The conflicts tend to revolve around
other aspects of the characters and their relationship.
Then
there’s kink. The success of Fifty Shades of Grey brought
BDSM out of the closet and into the mainstream. Before FSOG, we early
practitioners of D/s felt like members of a secret society, brave
pioneers, outcasts who broke the rules of vanilla sex and reaped the
erotic rewards. Now leather-clad Dommes show up on daytime TV and
bondage cuffs are sold in department stores.
Kink
was a lot more fun when it was verboten.
On
the other hand, I’ve observed a new taboo developing around sex
without condoms. I subscribe to Selena Kitt’s Excite Spice
newsletters, at least partly to see what other people are publishing
and what sub-genres seem to be popular. At least once a week, I read
a blurb about some well-endowed guy “taking” a woman “hot, hard
and unprotected”. Of course, bare-back sex is fundamentally more
enjoyable than sex with a condom, but it seems that to post-AIDS
readers, it is also breaking the rules and thus has acquired a new
erotic charge. Personally I find this emphasis a little peculiar,
since almost all the sex I’ve had in my life has been
“unprotected”, but for the generations who came of age in the
nineties and after, unprotected sex is forbidden, risky and exciting.
This
started me pondering the question of whether I could write a story
about a society with taboos against using condoms. Perhaps the
elders in this society believe that fertility is sacred and that
women are divinely intended to bear children. In such a world view,
creating a barrier between sperm and egg would be viewed as thwarting
the will of the Creator, as well as offering opportunities for women
to indulge in sex for pleasure rather than for procreation.
Wait
a minute... this suddenly doesn’t sound so original...
I’ve
penned a few pieces where I’ve played with the idea of how taboos
develop. In Quarantine, after a devastating, AIDS-like plague
apparently spread by gay men, M/M intimacy has become illegal and
invisible. The US has succumbed to nostalgia for the fifties,
heterosexual sex is the only kind that officially exists, and simply
having a genetic predisposition toward homosexuality means indefinite
imprisonment in a remote internment camp.
My
scifi short Trespass
(in
the altruistic erotica collection Coming
Together: By Hand)
involves a society in which everyone wears gloves. Fashions display
large amounts of skin, but bare-handed contact is strictly forbidden
– and thus unbearably
arousing.
Then
there’s incest. The original prohibition against inter-familial sex
supposedly derives from the dangers of inbreeding. In a world (like
today’s) where fertility can effectively be controlled, is there
really any reason for brothers and sisters not to get it on?
Sometimes
I rage against taboos that limit what I can publish. On the other
hand, if all the rules were to suddenly vanish, that might have a
negative impact on my imagination. I could still write about sensual
pleasure – but pleasure can be so much sweeter when it’s
forbidden.
This maaay not go over too
ReplyDeletewell while you're yet living...
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The incest thing gets complicated by the power imbalance effect on consent. A daughter's consent to sex with her father is likely to be influenced by a lifetime of feeling that he is more powerful than she is (although that's just as likely to spark resentment as lust.) With sisters and brothers, the power balance depends more on who's older, and probably stronger. Does it matter? Sometimes yes, sometimes no, and, the taboo may even be the driving force of the whole relationship.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure in the real world that power imbalance is a major issue. The erotica trope, though, has the daughter lusting after her father, or her brother, rather than the other way around. Probably this is a way to defuse the discomfort or fear.
DeleteAnd of course I'm talking about adult incest, not an adult preying on a child.