K is for Kinky
by Tim Pratt, Jenn Reese, Heather Shaw, Greg van EekhoutMarch 16, 2011
You've tried everything from sex toys to Kama Sutra, but all to no avail? Maybe you need to get some kink under your Skin. This latest in Skin technology never caught on in the world of high-fashion, but the underground world of kinky sexplorers have kept the market for smelly Skins alive and well. These Skins hearken back to a couple of centuries ago, when people lived their whole lives and died in the bodies they were born in. Back in the day (as they said, well, back in the day), those skins were rarely perfect, and along with blemishes and aging they had to be washed frequently, yet still suffered from odor, and sweat, not to mention passage of air and other effluvia in and out of the body. If this sounds nasty to you, stop reading. For those of you who are intrigued, you, too can experience what it was like to have sex in a real, breathing, sweating and--most importantly--stinking body. The sexplorers claim that sex in these bodies is better than any high-fashion Skin or virtual hook-up--that these smelly Skins (often called Skinks) engage all the senses in a way that we've lost today. Call them throwbacks, old school or just plain smelly, these kinky folks swear by their stinky, Skinky sex and seem to be having a great time. They sure do look kinky just walking down the street, with their Skins glistening with sweat, their clothing stained wet with it, their bodies sometimes lumpy and puffing with exertion. Don't worry, they're harmless enough--just be sure to stay upwind!
About Tim Pratt, Jenn Reese, Heather Shaw, Greg van Eekhout
Jenn Reese lives in Los Angeles and is currently writing a middle-grade adventure series for Candlewick Press. Her stories have appeared in Strange Horizons and the World Fantasy Award-winning anthology Paper Cities, among others. Follow her adventures at jennreese.com.
Heather Shaw is a writer, editor, gardener and aikidoka living in Berkeley, California with her husband and son. She's had fiction in Strange Horizons, Polyphony, The Year's Best Fantasy, Escape Pod and other nice places. She just finished her first middle-grade novel, "Keaton T., Junior Gene Hacker" and is looking for representation. For more, visit heathershaw.org
Greg van Eekhout's fiction for adults and children includes the novels Norse Code and Kid vs. Squid and stories published in Asimov's, Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Strange Horizons, and other places. He lives in San Diego, CA. For more information, visit writingandsnacks.com.
All stories by Tim Pratt, Jenn Reese, Heather Shaw, Greg van Eekhout →
More from Tim Pratt, Jenn Reese, Heather Shaw, Greg van Eekhout
Z is for Zoom
Anna runs. Down city sidewalks, leaping over trashcans, into alleys, on top of dumpsters, bouncing off brick walls and scrambling to the roof. Feet pounding. Heart singing. Across the rooftops, jumping gaps, tumbling the force away and rolling up again. She didn't always run.…
Y is for Yellow
The room is really quite pleasant, with a neat and solid floor and a window that commands a view of the grounds. When we got here, the lawns shimmered, dark green in the sun. But John had the gardeners kill the grass with acids and salt, and now the yards are bare yellow. It is…
X is for Xylomancy
The xylomancer answered the ad he found in the paper. He arrived at the warehouse dressed in his finest robes of midnight black, bearing a satchel of meticulously gathered sticks. Several teenagers bustled around the dusty empty space, setting up a drum kit and tuning acoustic…
W is for When
The warden found me in some dusty little town in 1897. He wrinkled his nose with distaste. "You smell awful." I glared. "A whore, hmm? With your intelligence you were expected to at least achieve a..." He consulted his notes. "School 'marm,' or seamstress position." "The…
V is for V�monos
The Explorer hacked her way through the dense jungle foliage, the ruins of her riverboat smoking and sinking beside the rotting pier behind her. Night was falling, and only the fire from her burning ship provided illumination. The Explorer's brown skin had darkened further on…
U is for Ubiquitous
As I made love to my wife, with the windows open and evening air cooling our sweaty skin, glowing thumbs popped up around our bedroom. Six thumbs up, four thumbs down. "Sweetie," she said, as I panted above her, "I think we need to adjust our privacy filters." A few comments…