Updated: Jan 31, 2021
When I released my first book, Cole Got Cucked Hard, I originally intended to add a disclaimer at the beginning. I even wrote it and everything, but in the end I decided to leave it out. Partly that was for practical reasons (the software I was using kept putting the disclaimer after the contents page, grr). But it was also partly because I didn't want to lecture you guys, or treat you like you're incapable of making good decisions without my advice. I've got faith that you guys aren't idiots, you know?
Finishing my second book, Cucked and Replaced: How a Rich Alpha Claimed My Husband, has reinforced for me that it's an important message to share though, so I'm going to come right out and say it.
My stories are fiction. They're sexual fantasy, and I want to emphasise the fantasy part.
For me, writing (and reading) erotica is about exploring the things that turn you on but that you can’t, wouldn’t or shouldn’t do in real life. It provides a safe space to enjoy the fantasy without hurting anyone. While I hope you find the events in my stories a turn-on — I mean, that’s why I wrote them — don’t, for a moment, think that I’m endorsing doing those kinds of things in real life.
The characters in my books do some pretty shitty things to each other. In Cole Got Cucked Hard (spoiler alert!), Cole's boyfriend is cheating on him prolifically, and decides to let him catch him in the act rather than having an honest conversation about opening up their relationship. And when it's time to come clean about all the guys he's been fucking, he chooses to do it in a way that's going to humiliate Cole in front of everyone he knows. While this fantasy is a massive turn-on to me, it's also a massive dick move on the part of Cole's boyfriend.
Similarly in Cucked and Replaced (more spoilers, sorry) Julian breaks all the rules that he and Nick had set to maintain trust when they're engaged in their cuckolding adventures. And as his relationship with Callum develops, he acts like a total asshole to Nick, basically ghosting him without any appreciation of the hurt it's causing. Being neglected like that, and ultimately replaced by someone else, is a massive turn-on for many people into cuckolding. But I'd hazard a guess that even if you get off imagining being dumped for another man, you don't actually want the person you love to leave you for real. And the way Julian goes about it is shitty as hell.
What's kind of consistent across all my cuckold erotica is that the cuck pretty much always loses control of how deep into the kink he wants to go, because his partner takes the choice away from him. Bluntly, that's a disrespectful thing to do. In fantasy, the idea of being disrespected like that turns me on like crazy. In real life though, I don't want my partner to be that callous.
Cuckolding is a complicated kink, and sometimes the things that turn you on the most are also the things that hurt the most. Sometimes it's the fact that something hurts that makes it hot in the first place: being ignored, being forgotten, being told you don't measure up, being told that the person you loves feels things with another person that they don't feel with you. And sometimes - often - it's the lack of control over it that turns you on. With that kind of complexity, it's really hard to identify what you actually want to happen and what will just leave you feeling broken.
That's why it's important to find your boundaries: what kinds of hurt you can handle and channel into the excitement of the experience, what kinds of hurt can be healed (or better yet, avoided) communicating with your partner about each other's needs, and what kinds of hurt are simply not acceptable. And it's important to understand your partner's boundaries because I can almost guarantee they won't be the same as yours. The boundaries are different for everyone; sometimes you and your partner won't understand where each other's boundaries are, and sometimes you won't even be sure of your own. Finding them is something that requires honesty, respect and open communication. Believe me when I say this, because I've definitely spent more time talking through the emotional implications with my partner than I've actually spent watching him fuck.
I'd argue that for most people though, the kind of shit that people are pulling in my stories would definitely cross some lines and raise some serious red flags. If I was friends with Cole or Nick IRL, I'd be advising them to ditch their asshole men ASAP.
But that's why I write this kind of stuff. It allows me to react with my dick, knowing that I don't have to deal with the ramifications of it happening in real life. I can think about how hot it would be to find out my partner's been cheating on me, without thinking about how betrayed I'd feel and how difficult it would be to trust him again. I can be turned on by the humiliation of finding out he'd fucked all my friends, without the embarrassment I'd feel if it really happened. And I can lose myself in the intense fantasy of the most extreme conclusion where I get replaced be a more superior man, without actually having to face the tragedy of losing the man I love.
I’m not going to lecture you about, or judge you for, what you do in your relationships. I've done shitty things in relationships before, I had my reasons (sidenote: they were shit reasons), and I bore the consequences. But I want to make it real clear: don’t take my stories as tacit encouragement to cheat, betray, pressure your partner to go deeper in than they're okay with, or make your partner into a cuckold without their consent. If you want to have sex with other people outside of your relationship, if you want you partner to have sex with other people, if you want to humiliate someone or be humiliated, I encourage you to communicate about it. Talk about what you want to try. Set boundaries. Respect the people you care about, and make sure they know you respect them no matter where your kinks take you.
In other words: don’t try this at home, unless your partner is genuinely up for it.
And no matter what, be safe about it, okay?