Among the many, many things I struggle with in writing giantess-centered adult fiction is “what the hell genre is this, anyway?” It’s not quite erotica, because my stories involve more plot than a lusty, fevered vignette. It’s not romance, because sometimes the tiny man doesn’t care about the lavish inner world of the giantess: he just wants to scurry around and get his rocks off. Similarly, the giantess doesn’t care about the hopes and dreams of the city block she’s grinding into the lithosphere. She is entirely wrapped up in her perspective and her desires, and the tiny citizens are as beneath her consideration as they are her instep.

Is it fantasy/sci-fi? That may be closer to what I write. My tiny people are ripped out of their familiar surroundings and struggle to make sense of their new conditions; my giantesses project their own fears and desires upon their tiny prisoners/companions, only distantly wondering why they struggle to break free or disobey orders. These situations are facilitated by magic, technology, aberrations of nature and violations of physical laws, so by that strict definition…

Yet there are no how-to’s on writing giantess porn. It’s pretty instinctual: you get an itch in your pants/skirt and pound at the keyboard until something resembling your vision appears in your text file. Was there a plot? Did we learn anything about the human condition? Was there even a protagonist, or did a bunch of stuff just happen and then end?

Well, I’m studying how to write novels and how to make a compelling short story, so along with this I thought I’d research what goes into erotica. There’s some love and a lot of sex between giantesses and tiny people, so how do we heighten the tension? How do we make these scenes rise above simple rutting, how do we manipulate the environment to triple the impact of the encounter?

I’m cribbing from two good articles that elaborate upon some very useful points for making a story that emotionally engages the reader and makes them want more. “The Do’s and Dont’s of Writing Erotic Fiction” is full of good advice for writing in general, really, but it’s just as important to keep these tips in mind when fleshing out the adventure within which the sex is contained. In addition to that necessary article, there’s “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Writing Erotica (But Were Afraid to Ask)“, in which a male author adds some ideas for storytelling as well as things to bear in mind for marketing your work.

Here’s my takeaway from these articles (though you really should read them):

• Respect your audience: write intelligently and take your subject seriously.
• Erotica’s not just about sex, you still need a solid plot. Well-developed characters will carry the story forward and heighten the tension.
• Avoid the euphemisms: they’re immature and distracting. You can also skip the descriptive clichés and make an effort to express actions with new words.
• A running commentary of the mechanics of the sex act really isn’t sexy. Instead, mention a few moments briefly and focus on the emotional states of each person.
• Kick the illusion of perfection to the curb. Describe real, flawed people who don’t do everything right but are nonetheless sincere and wholehearted.
• Once in a while, step back and take stock of all five senses to make a scene come alive.
• Let the sexual tension rise, falter, become obstructed, then build up and resolve, just like the plot of a good story.
• Dialogue helps build up the energy, too: use this to hint at what’s really driving each person, give a glimpse into their complex inner world.
• Don’t forget flirting and foreplay, and (depending on what the scene requires) great sex doesn’t always require love.
• Write what you know. Depict your own fantasy, to speak authentically and passionately.