50 Shades of Wrong: Erotica’s Least Sexy Leading Men

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So I was online looking for—well, there’s no time for details—when I stumbled upon Snowballin’: I Fucked Frosty, an erotic e-book on Amazon. (And please know that I am using the word “erotic” under duress.) 

I discovered the strange and enchanting world of uber-niche “erotic” ebooks with titles like Centaur Gangbang, The Horny Minotaur and Taken by Unicorns. Perhaps this is what happens when writers, trying to cash in on the whole Fifty Shades thing, have reached, truly, the bottom of the barrel, romantic lead-wise. “Vampires?” “Taken.” “Werewolves?” “Taken.” “Um…trolls?” “Available!”

Anyway, after (too long, really) obsessing over the increasingly awesome permutations—Bred by the Ape ManFucked by the Lake Monster! Taken by Teddy (as in, the bear) — my Amazon search history is now a slutty ravaged mess. So as not to similarly besmirch your own search history, I offer to you, as a public service, these picks for the Erotica’s Least Sexy Leading Men. Ever.

Frosty the Snowman

Although the title I Fucked Frosty pretty much spells it out, those who need to know the “whys” of said fucking may consult the Amazon blurb:

When a boyfriend fails to fulfill his sexual duties, sometimes the only option is to turn to the cold embrace of a snowman.

Now, clearly the heroine has overlooked plenty of non-snowman options, but that’s not the point, the point is that this book exists. I mean, if there’s one thing we could all agree upon as a world citizenry, it’s that Frosty the Snowman is not sexy. Right? Right?!?! Besides, what does one even do, sexually, with Frosty? Beyond the obvious carrot nose uses, everything else seems…a little frostbitey.

Caveat: Anyone who’s seen the human/snowman mating in Kate Bush’s claymation video  “Mistradelpair,” knows that such love is not for the long term (see also: slush).




Like Fifty Shades of GreyForced to Spread for the Goblin Tribe has an S & M vibe, but with goblins. Yes, GOBLINS, for god’s sake. And not just one, which to my mind is quite enough, but the whole damn tribe.

Here’s its blurb:

When she finds herself in the hands of the brutal goblin chieftain, Talia is about to discover a new and very dark side of herself. Forced to obey the commands of her hated enemy, The elven princess is punished, pounded, and defiled in every hole.

Now, this requires a whole lotta suspension of disbelief—goblin doms, the existence of goblins in the first place—but, to me, the most problematic part is that Talia’s holes are “pounded.” With what? Wee l’il goblin wienies? I think not. Pass.


Abraham Lincoln

I direct your attention to Abraham Lincoln: Presidential Fuck Machine which begins with honest Abe looking for somewhere to relieve his morning wood:

At first I considered mounting Mary and using her soft familiar slit to relieve the pressure in my prick but she was never very agreeable in the morning.

Several romps later, including a same-sex tryst with a ninja, it ends with Abe needing to defeat an insane emperor with “the power of his cock.”

Barack Obama also stars in some presidential erotica in the tiresomely titled, Yes, We CameObama’s too hot to make it on Least Appealing list, although icky lines like this almost got him there:

“God damnit, Michelle,” Barry said, getting into bed, his elephantine member plainly visible under the cloth of his pajamas. “You always know how to make a man feel better about himself.”  

Later in the story—post-elephantine member handling—Michelle is kidnapped. I didn’t actually read the ending, but I suspect the solution involved the rarely invoked diplomatic tool of presidential cock power.)



A Mysterious Master

Taken and Milked (A Forced Lactation Fantasy) already lost me with that title, and I was even less sold by this:

Rielle is confined and given a combination of salves and tinctures that cause her already large breasts to grow enormously and lactate nearly constantly, all in service to a mysterious Master.

Breasts growing enormously? Constant lactation? Waaay too close to real-life nursing to be remotely sexy. However, if the author’s going that route, I suggest a sexy chapter in which Rielle’s trip to IKEA—her one damn chance to be alone in months! —is ruined by the slowly spreading wet circles on her shirt as her painfully engorged boobs must leak or explode.

Rielle’s in two sequels, Kept and Milked and The Milking Contract and, if there’s a fourth book, I recommend the title: This is Happening to Me Again? Are You F—ing Kidding Me?


Collins, the Horny Leprechaun

In The Horny Leprechaun 1, not only is Collins a Leprechaun, and a horny one at that, he also sounds like kind of a dick.

Some Leprechauns are not so nice……..

(Karen) runs into one pissed off Leprechaun who thinks she is after his gold. Now the Leprechaun wants payment for trespassing with sexual acts that some called depraved while others might call it magically delicious. Karen finds herself with a bit of a sadistic man who takes what he wants and Karen finds that she likes it.

The book’s preface cautions readers: “Warning: This story contains oral sex, forced seduction, and anal sex….WITH A LEPRECHAUN! A JERKY, BOSSY LEPRECHAUN!” [ed note: yelling typeface part added by me.]


The Boogeyman

There is a huge sub-genre of these “Bred by” books. Bred by Wolvesthe Tree Manthe Space Tentacle Plant—name a beast, they probably have a breeding program going on. The breeding aspect, presumably, makes the desire to bed a Sasquatch or whatever more palatable—like a sort of interspecies goodwill program. “Well, of course I didn’t want to have sex with the Boogeyman, but he forced himself on me. For breeding.

Of these creatures, the Boogeyman is arguably the least appealing leading man. In Bred by the Boogeyman, the Boogeyman needs an heir and must mate with a human because, I guess, Boogeywomen are too stuck up. The sequel, Pregnant by the Boogeyman, manages to be both off-putting (doing IT with the Boogeyman? Yuck!) and boring at the same time (the now-Mrs. Boogeyman has ho-hum marital issues.)

When Rose agreed to bear the Boogeyman’s child she thought she would share his bed and his body throughout the pregnancy. The reality has proved more frustrating – he refuses to satisfy her needs out of concern for the baby.

I fear a follow-up: The Boogeymans Go To Couples Counseling.




Santarotica—surprisingly, there’s quite a lot of it—generally contains excessive lap-sitting and tiresome dialogue about being naughty or nice, but for me the dealbreaker is the idea of Santa as a sexual being.

Here, have a look at this from Santa’s Coming Tonight:

Emma could feel a firm bulge begin to grow in Santa’s pants, pressing against the side of her ass. She squirmed a little, snuggling closer to him. She had promised…
“Have you been naughty or nice this year Emma?”
“Oh, I’m a nice girl Santa, I really am!” she giggled, playing along “When I was little I’d get a candy cane if I was a good girl – do I get a candy cane?”
“You’re going to get the best candy cane you’ve ever had, I guarantee that!” Santa’s deep voice was teasing. “I warn you, it’s pretty big so you might not be able to have it all at once!”
“Ooooh Santa!” Emma simpered, “I do like the sound of that!”

I know everyone has needs—yes, including Santa—but thoughts of his fat bowlful of jelly, the unclean red suit, and his little pink member surrounded by white pubes make my lady parts run screaming to hide under the table. (Santarotica hint: If Santa mentions a “gift” he has for you, you can be pretty sure what it’s gonna be.)

I should probably stop. I just had the sobering experience of seeing “Your Browsing History” for this session and realized that for the foreseeable future, whenever I log onto Amazon, I’m going to see messages like, Recommended for YOU: The Horny Leprechaun 2. Besides, I have a  killer idea for an ebook. Something like 9 1/2 Weeks, but with Oompa-Loompas wearing leather short shorts.


Jill Hamilton writes In Bed With Married Women, a blog about sex. Her work has appeared in Jezebel, Rolling Stone, the Los Angeles Times. Follow @Jill_Hamilton

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