Paradise

Author's Note

I started writing this about three years ago. I'd read a lot of smut on this site and wondered if I could write something like that myself. One night, when I was especially horny and had nothing better to do, I started writing. I used the real names of people I know (I've changed them before publishing), because I never intended to show this to anyone. It was just my own little porn fantasy, so it didn't really matter. Even the protagonist had my name.

I wrote several scenes in one sitting, all the way up to what is probably the most "violent" scene in the story.

And then... nothing.

The document sat untouched in my Google Drive for months until one day, while cleaning it up, I stumbled across it again and decided to reread it.

My first thought was, "This guy is a rapist. Who the hell does something like this? Why did I write this?"

That got me thinking about what kind of person would actually do those things. What leads a man to become that abusive?

For some reason, I kept writing with that question in mind.

It was still your average harem smut, and I still got incredibly turned on writing the sex scenes... but, for some reason, I started enjoying the scenes that weren't about sex too.

Then something strange happened.

During a two-week vacation, I spent almost the entire time fueled by my ADD medication, writing almost nonstop. I ended up producing around 150 pages.

The weird part was that I wasn't following a plan—I was discovering the story as I wrote it. And before long, I found myself enjoying everything except the sex even more: the romance, the fantasy elements, the plot itself. That's especially strange because I'm your average cis guy, and I've never had much interest in that kind of story.

I eventually came to see it as my subconscious trying to tell me what was missing from my life.

I was lonely.

Writing this changed me. It made me ask myself why I was alone, what parts of myself I needed to change if I wanted that to stop being true. The changes were real: I improved my diet, started going to the gym, and made a genuine effort to meet new people. It's not like I suddenly became a social butterfly or a gym bro, but the change was real.

I've never told anyone that all of this started because I was writing porn.

I'd be incredibly embarrassed.

I think you can actually see that change reflected in the story itself. As it goes on, there's less and less sex. If that's what you're here for, you'll probably get bored at some point, because it slowly turns into a cheesy, low-budget fantasy novel.

Sorry if that's what you were looking for.

And now it's happened again.

Years later, I reread the whole thing. One afternoon I was feeling horny, so I wrote a couple of new scenes... which somehow turned into another ninety pages. And once again, the sex quickly faded into the background.

So I've finally decided to publish it.

Not because I think it's particularly good—it really isn't.

I'm doing it because there are countless scenes I skipped over while writing, and it bothers me that they're still missing. Sometimes I wasn't in the mood to write sex anymore, and other times I was simply more interested in writing a scene that happened much later in the story.

I'm posting it here to force myself to go back, fill in those gaps, edit everything properly, and finally finish it.

I'd like to be able to say it's complete someday, if only for my own satisfaction.

So that's the plan.

I'll be translating it (I don't write in English), editing it as I go, and posting it here.

Thanks for reading.