I should be working on my latest book today, or working on publicity for the one coming out this weekend. But I've been derailed thanks to Fursona, a documentary I happened across last night while scrolling through Netflix.
Let me preface all this by saying I don't bring judgment to any lifestyle where no one is being harmed. But that doesn't mean I can't watch in drop-jawed stupefaction as one man explains why he spends his days dressed as a raccoon and another details his failed attempt to legally change his name to Boomer the Dog.
I realize there are different strokes for different folks. You're talking to a woman whose body of work includes two shape shifter books. And I get the lure of the fandom. Harry Potter, Sherlock, Doctor Who - I've been there. But furries - who develop a persona around a cartoon animal and make it their alter ego - take fan devotion to a whole new level.
According to the documentary, furries are so committed to their personas that they invest thousands of dollars in realistic looking costumes that are heavy and hot to wear. And along with the weight of the costumes, these ardent role-players endure the weight of mockery from a press and public they claim doesn't understand what they're all about.
And this is where it gets weird. Or weirder. The documentary revealed a rift the between rank-and-file furries and Uncle Kage - the community's Svengaliesque, self-appointed leader and chairman of the cosplay convention Anthrocon. According to the documentary, Uncle Kage — whose persona is a giant Samurai cockroach (swear to God) — is very protective of the furry image and ardently eschews the notion that stuff like this is what furries are all about:
In fact, Uncle Kage, who dresses like a scientist onstage at Anthrocon, because in real life he is an actual Ph.D. (again, swear to God), was shown ranting against a fox-cosplayer who dared appear on a talk show and admit to having sex with other furries in costume. To further emphasize that it's not about sex, when Uncle Kage took over Anthrocon, he booted fur-centric sex toy vendor Bad Dragon from the convention.
And here's the weirdest part of the story, which makes it my favorite part.
Have I been living under a rock? I've never even heard of Bad Dragon, but if you're every game for something really, really, really, really different, this place is just genius. I mean, there are dildo shops, and then there's this site. Want to get fucked by a unicorn? How about a griffon or a chimera? Bad Dragon has you covered, and if you're hesitant because you can't decide between being banged by a basilisk or an ice dragon, each product has detailed fantasy scenarios to get you in the mood.
Oh, and guys, there's something for you, too. Don't tell me you've never thought about what it would be like to get a blow job from a werewolf. No werewolves? Fine. If you're feeling nostalgic, they have dinosaur pussies for your retro pleasure.
Hell, for $65 you can buy a dragon's tongue. Use your imagination.
But wait. If you've not already run screaming from your computers there's more. For the full experience, there are dragon dildos that eject Bad Dragon's special brand of cum-lube, and at this point I just can't keep writing because oh-my-god-what-the-fuck?
Like I said, different strokes. All I know is that my toy chest is suddenly looking very, very ordinary.
But back to the documentary and the controversy. It was like watching a train wreck, and I couldn't look away. But I'm glad I didn't because who knew something like this could be so interesting, or so controversial? My final impression is that Dr. Kage should give up making this look like just a chaste fandom. Of course it's sexual for some people, and if it is, what's wrong with that? Dragons need love, too.
Ava Sinclair is an bestselling Amazon author of multi-genre erotic romance featuring the common theme of strong women and dominant men. You can find her work at www.avasinclairauthor.com