So, an exchange in the Unfortunate Alice thread prompted me to think more about a question about perspectives in size fantasy that I’ve been wrestling with for a while now. How much do you really want to know about your fantasy object?
If you identify as a tiny woman in a M/f scenario, do want to know what’s going on in the big guy’s head, do you want to project your own preferences onto him, or do you want him to remain mysterious and overwhelming? I know what I like as a size fantasist, but as a size writer I often wonder which perspectives and how much depth I should include.
I don’t think there’s much question that the majority of size fantasists primarily identify as tiny, with the consequence that the “classic” size fantasy story is written from the tiny’s perspective. In such stories, the giant characters are generally free to pursue their own agendas without having to explain or justify them, and the drama comes from the tiny characters having to anticipate and adapt to those agendas. Mysterious or arbitrary giants therefore often make good plot devices.
Size fantasy has become more sophisticated since we all found each other and started creating for people other than ourselves. We have begun to think about not only what we want to see but also how we want to be seen, about who else has found their way to size fantasy and what they want to see. “Classic” relationships can be inverted, trying on different perspectives or just mixing things up and seeing what happens.
I’m just curious as to what everyone’s tastes are as far as this goes. Sometimes I prefer a refreshing change of perspective, but often I just need my itches scratched, and long stories with complex characters and plots can divert from that. I still maintain that real characters make for hot smut, but I don’t always have a good feel for when to just lean into the tropes we all know and love.
For example, my story series Taken is written from the perspective of Gordon, a man compelled to shrink women and take them for his pleasure. The narrative is deeply embedded in his own desires and anxieties, and he is often a comic or a tragic figure. I wrote it this way partly because I wanted to subvert the stereotype of the mysterious and confident giant, partly because I was trying to stretch my literary legs, but mostly because I wanted to explore what kind of man would kidnap, rape, and devour women and how he would think of himself. If you’re a tiny woman who gets off on reading about such a man, do you want to know what’s going on in his head or do you just want to see him get down to business?
There is no “bad” answer here; all opinions and preferences are valid.
