Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Occasionally, a man states his desire to serve me as the receptive partner (i.e. strap-on worship and other aspects of slut training), and feels the need to declare to me that he is "not gay." I can't help but find this statement amusing. For one, it implies the need to defend oneself against the accusation of homosexuality. From my experience, it seems clear that the vast majority of men who see me are straight. Yet I for one find rigid labels of sexual orientation to be quite limiting and narrow-minded. They can never fully describe the fluidity which exists between categories.

When I think about the fact that most people's first sexual experience was playing with themselves, it makes me see the whole idea of sexual orientation in a different light. Most of us first learned to love ourselves, to achieve sexual satisfaction manipulating our own parts. It feels natural and good to touch oneself. So in a way that makes most everyone a participant in homoeroticism.

I also do not ascribe phallic representations solely to the realm of men. For instance, I take great pleasure in having those who submit to be my sluts first prove their devotion and submission through oral worship of my strap-on -- not because I am trying to push one into gayness, but because this charged act is such a highly symbolic power play. One that is both an erotic surrender and a broadening of one's sexual perspective.

Though I do not believe, as I've heard some say, that men who desire to be receptively stimulated are "in denial" about their orientation. If being the bottom for receptive play equals being gay, then wouldn't that make virtually all women lesbians? Obviously, this is not the case.

That we are each born with the physical parts necessary to be receptive is a wonderful thing. Really, a leveling of the playing field which is underutilized by most men. And with the simplest technology, anyone can be the insertive partner -- a fact which is underutilized by many women. It may sound a bit silly, but imagine if every woman knew how to use and have fun with a strap-on. And every man experienced taking it as well as giving sexually. Perhaps there'd be less talk of men being from one planet and women being from another.

Speaking of strap-ons, I remember being at a play party a while ago. It was a fairly vanilla event, so I had been wielding my strap-on on some sexy young ladies who were game to spice things up. One in particular was intrigued by this device, the likes of which she had apparently never seen or even imagined before. She laughed nervously about it, trading jabs with me as I dared her to try it on. She reminded me of of me not so long ago, when I was barely past virginity but ready to call anyone's bluff, with more than enough bravado to make up for lack of experience. Impulsively, she grabbed the strap-on from me as I cast if off my body, pulling it up her brown legs and tightening it around her slender hips. The self-satisfied smirk on her face changed as she looked down and saw her "cock", the smile twisting into an expression of uncertainty, then finally to slight revulsion. "Ugh!," she exclaimed. "Oh no. I don't know if I like that," she said as she looked down at herself, transfixed. I let out a wicked laugh. I couldn't help but enjoy the moment. Planting seeds. . .

Me and My Wicked Strap-On.