The idea that people are really into getting freaky with eldritch horrors is not news to me. I’ve been kicking around in anime fandoms, and we all know that tentacles are going to come up at some point. There’s also, of course, Rule 34, which means that if it exists, there will be porn of it on the internet.
It just seems that lately, that kind of fantasy is maybe a bit more … mainstream.
Given my history and experience, I know this isn’t just me having my blindfold of naivety ripped off. There is a marked increase in monsters in romance, and a marked increase in the way people are simply marketing that as “monsterfucking.”
That’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s quite awesome, especially given that we live in such a hyper-conservative climate at the moment.
Let’s not make bones about this though. People have always been into fucking monsters. In fact, a lot of mythology focuses on pretty much exactly that. Take, for example, the huli jing and the sexual vampire of Chinese lore. In a more Abrahamic vein, there is the tale of Lilith, who became the first demon and gave birth to the lilim, infamous seducers of men. That leads directly into myths about succubae and incubi.
Tentacle porn predates the twentieth century. Famed Japanese ukiyo-e artist Hokusai painted images of women getting dicked down by squids and octopi. That’s a rich tradition that isn’t uniquely Japanese either. The Ancient Greeks had some pretty raunchy tales around octopi as well.
In short, humanity’s been telling monsterfucking tales pretty much since we learned to tell stories. It seems to be, by and large, human nature.
People Have Always Been Freaky
Monster Tales as Warnings
We can see these tales as being cautionary. That is, they’re designed to actually warn us away from such creatures. And, of course, these creatures are often a stand-in for something else. A kitsune no yokai is literally a foxy woman, but the social warning is actually against “loose” or “impure” women. In these tales, the fox-woman seduces and marries a man (usually a farmer). They often have a relatively harmonious married life. She may even bear him children. If she is discovered, however, she will leave. The selkie might also be read as a feckless woman. You can steal her pelt, and so long as you hide it from her, she will remain by your side. If she finds it, however, she will leave you as quick as look at you.
The siren is obviously dangerous, singing to lure men (particularly sailors) to their graves. This is, again, perhaps a warning against women, especially those who are beautiful or use beautiful words. They may be lovely, but they will lead you to your doom. These tales are meant to warn men about the “creatures” that exist out there—namely, women who will use them. It’s a warning, by and large, not to let your dick guide you, because you’ll probably end up dead.
Of course, people are notorious for not really … listening to warnings. Which is probably where we get some degree of “monsterfucking.”
The Monstrous as a Threat
I’ve demonstrated that many tales about “monsters” are meant as warnings. Creatures like sirens are dangerous, and you’d do well to leave them alone.
This is where psychology becomes quite interesting. I’ve discussed the appeal of the abject before. This is a psychological theory that suggests people can be simultaneously attracted to and repulsed by something. The abject is something we know we should find, say, disgusting or horrifying. Instead, we find ourselves strangely curious about it. We’re intrigued.
A simple way of summing this up is the old saying about train wrecks. You don’t want to watch, but you can’t look away. Even though you know it’s horrific—from the sheer destruction to injuries and loss of life—you find yourself compelled to keep your eyes on the scene unfolding.
This holds true for many other things we might consider abject—a dying person, various bodily functions, and so on. These things are abject, in that they are terrifying or humiliating, but we may find ourselves strangely drawn to them.
Monsters similarly fall into the category of the abject. They can be terrifying; the siren, for example, could murder you in cold blood. A vampire can be terrifying in that these superhuman entities could easily overpower you and kill you. (Let’s be real—most of us are not turn material; we’d just be used as vampire chow and forgotten.)
Scrambled Messages in the Brain
Yet this kind of terror—the threat of something that is beyond human, that is beyond natural and possesses powers that could easily kill you—is also strangely attractive. It’s exciting.
It’s also taboo, which does things to our brains. A lot of us get a little thrill when we do something we know is “wrong.” The idea that we might be caught can be even more exciting.
This is where we can cross over from something being terrifying to it being erotic.
If we look at terror and erotic arousal on a physiological basis, it’s easy to see how the brain can get its wires crossed on this. Being afraid and being turned on are both types of physiological arousal. That is, the parasympathetic nervous system kicks into high gear. When you’re afraid, your breath might come short; your heart rate might speed up. You might feel shaky or faint as all that blood rushes around.
Erotic arousal has similar features. If you read any romance, you’ll quickly hear all about how a character’s breath came short or how their heart sped up when they were alone with their crush. What we experience as anxiety in a negative situation is almost the exact same as anticipation in a positive context.
So, excitement and terror are very, very similar feelings in the body. Thus, when we see something we should be terrified by, it’s easy to misinterpret that as being turned on.
This helps us to explain why people can be so easily attracted to things that should scare us or even disgust us.
Monsterfucking Is Pretty Normal, Actually
As you can see, the idea of fucking the monster is pretty much engrained in us. Finding something terrifying activates a response in the body, which is very similar to erotic arousal. The thrill of knowing something is wrong or taboo can equally lead us to the same place. And, of course, we have plenty of cautionary tales that suggest people had to watch out for monsters.
That those tales are often masquerading as supernatural stories about social realities brings us to another point. “Monsters” are often stand-ins for other humans. In some cases, they are particular types of humans (women, often “immoral” women, in particular).
That is something I’ve explored elsewhere. The “monster” or the “monstrous” is merely a stand-in for the various kinds of humans who are considered social pariahs. Vampires, for example, are often queer-coded. (Carmilla, the original vampire in the English literary canon, preys on young women; in Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, Lestat and Louis are an item.) As we’ve seen, other “monsters” might include “immoral” or “loose” women, seductresses who would steal men’s virtue. The siren “murdering” a man might seem quite literal, but it’s also, in some sense, metaphorical. An “immoral” woman could ruin a man.
The succubus and the incubus legends might equally be tales of caution. The succubus is, of course, a seductress who leads men to ruin and steals their precious seed. The incubus jeopardizes the virtue of young women, potentially “ruining” them by impregnating them. The succubus is thus a seductress; the incubus, a rake. And yet these demons are also queer-coded: the succubus and the incubus are sometimes said to be capable of shifting between sexes.
Monsters as Stand-ins for the Racial “Other”
In other cases, the monster might be racially coded. It’s not surprising that the language of monsters was also used to describe many of the peoples of the world outside of Europe. In historic accounts, it’s possible to see these peoples as “monsters”—and, in that sense, they are being cast as “subhuman.”
This is a common thread in the creation of monsters. They are cast as being animalistic, and they are then designated as “subhuman.” Even if these monsters are intelligent, it’s usually considered surprising.
That links us back to the original purpose of these stories: warnings. You need to avoid these monsters or you might end up dead. Worse: you could end up exactly like them. How many tales end with the hero being transformed into a shambling horror? Vampires are probably the best example—if they don’t kill you, then you might become one, even against your will. (Werewolves also follow in this tradition.)
All of this makes for a compelling argument that these stories aren’t actually talking about supernatural horrors.
So Why Monsters in Romance Right Now?
That last bit should give you a clue as to why monsters in romance have suddenly become so mainstream. While people have always been freaks, social propriety has largely dictated that we should keep that hush-hush. Yet, in the current moment, it’s become far more acceptable to fly your freak flag.
In many ways, this is a radical way of pushing back against the puritanical moment we find ourselves in. While politicians try to ban porn in every conceivable way (and not-porn along with it), and trolls on the internet argue about the LGBTQIA+ “agenda” being anything other than a desire to exist in peace, people have shown a marked interest in reading more and more debauched filth.
And, in some ways, this is also a protest of the treatment of the real-world “monsters” those in power are constructing for us. We are embracing monsters—metaphorical and literal—and moreover, we are loving them freely, unabashedly.
I think the intersection of those two points is why we’re seeing so much interest in monsterfucking fiction right now.
Of course, I don’t think people are actually thinking things like “oh, if I buy this book about a tentacle monster, I’m totally supporting queer liberation” or anything like that. I think it is more a middle finger to the powers that be. We’re not just standing in solidarity with the “monsters” this puritanical moment is creating. We’re adopting the monsters, we’re embracing them and saying we’re monsters too.
And more than that: we are saying we are proud to be so, and we do not give a damn what you think.
To be quite honest? I think that’s beautiful.
