Have a go at writing the exact same sex act, using nothing but the tone of language and the POV of the narrator to present it as either kinky or vanilla.
The challenge comes from a theory she has about what makes BDSM feel like BDSM:
I came to the conclusion that writing BDSM sex is far less about the external scene than it is about how the person whose POV is represented in the narrative is interpreting it. The M/C in Fifty Shades of Grey has a very vanilla state of mind (and I would extrapolate and venture that E.L. James is probably not much of an avid practicioner of BDSM herself). And so, appropriately, she reads/interprets/experiences all the sex as vanilla, even when, externally, it doesn’t appear to be.
When I read the challenge, I thought immediately of cunnilingus, which has the reputation of being a service given to a recipient, but often makes me feel extremely vulnerable. Below is the same cunnilingus scene, one kinky and one vanilla (though my partner questions whether the vanilla version is fully vanilla). The dialogue and actions in each are exactly the same. Let me know what you think!
He smiles as he settles himself between my legs, and I whimper with anticipation. His delicious tongue has learned my ways. He can make me come fast, or extend the pleasure to an achingly slow burn. Tonight, we both want it slow. The half hour we spent kissing on the couch was only the beginning.
He touches down on my clit, tongue delivering the firm, wet, velvet strokes that are a sure thing for me. Little scrapes of his teeth help me hold myself back, slowing my path to orgasm. Even with the nibbling, I'm going to come soon if he doesn't stop. The foreplay has me more than ready.
"Please," I say. One finger in my cunt would make me come, but I don't want to yet. I want to feel his face between my legs. I want to have enough time to long for him.
He knows this is how I work. "What do you want?" I hear the grin in his voice. He grips the cheeks of my ass. I squirm, desire and excitement getting the better of me.
I meet his eyes. "Bite my clit," I whisper.
He knows how I like it. His teeth pinch my clit. It brings tears to my eyes, but it cools me down just enough that he can put his fingers in me without making me come. I groan at the exquisite sensation of his hand pumping in and out of my cunt. I wouldn't really have been able to feel it through an orgasm's spasms. I couldn't have noticed every twitch of his fingertips the way I do now.
The moment stretches. He lifts his head slightly, and I arch to go with him. The synchronization between us overwhelms me.
"I love you," I breathe, and I've relaxed enough now that he can release his teeth and pleasure my throbbing clit with a soft and gentle tongue. Perfectly still except for the twitching of my inner thighs, I can enjoy him. I lie limp on the mattress, cunt open to him, soaking up every bit of pleasure he can offer me. There's no hurry tonight. We can delight in each other as we will.
He smiles as he settles himself between my legs, and I can't help but whimper. There's no way to tell if he plans to use teeth or tongue until his mouth contacts my clit. He touches down and it's both — pleasure I can't resist delivered by firm, wet, velvet strokes, but restrained by scrapes that shock me out of any climb toward orgasm that I might make.
"Please," I say. I want him to play nice with my cunt, just lick me and maybe stick some fingers in. Let me come. That's what would feel the best. But at the same time... I have to supress the wild urge to ask him to bite down. Hard. I know he likes to hurt me. I like for him to like it.
He knows this is how I work. "What do you want?" I hear the grin in his voice.
This is the decision point. Pleasure or pain. He always leaves the choice in my hands. He grips the cheeks of my ass. My body squirms to match what's happening in my mind.
"Bite my clit," I whisper, both defeated and excited.
His teeth pinch my clit. It brings tears to my eyes. I'm afraid to move at all, for fear of increasing the pain. All I want is to get away from his mouth, as far and as fast as I can. He shoves his fingers into my hole, but it's a tease. No way can I come from that now.
The moment stretches. He lifts his head slightly, making my body arch to keep his bite from becoming more painful. And it hits me — mental surrender that comes in waves, satisfying more than the physical sensation of orgasm ever could.
"I love you," I breathe, and now he releases his teeth and pleasures my throbbing clit with a soft and gentle tongue. Perfectly still except for the twitching of my inner thighs, I can finally relax and serve him. I lie limp on the mattress, cunt open to him. I don't tense my muscles or work at achieving an orgasm. I present my spread lips as an offering, no longer fearing either teeth or tongue. He uses me as he wills.