Sometimes, it's just a cigar

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Down the rabbit hole.

A reader once said that they had not worked out Carter and I were two separate people, and instead thought the blog was one person embarking on a wonderful gender experiment. I sometimes think both ideas are correct, this is the product of two separate minds, but it is also a wonderful gender experiment.

There are occasionally tweets about which genitals make people a man or a woman crossing my time line. I say occasionally because I tend to have the people who care about such things blocked. Over the past week there have also been various suggestions that sex with someone with a penis must involve penetration to be sex.

So what do you call it when you stroke your partners cock and your first thought is “this doesn’t feel like a cock, it feels like a strange external vagina” Now I am sure those who screencap and subtweet me will say its a hallucination, or that I am trying to claim there is no difference between a cock and a vagina. Believe me, I have seen, touched and fucked enough of both in my time, I know the difference.

I also know what I felt and thought. Of course some of this might be related to my belief that if my life had taken a different path I would be in lesbian relationship, rather than relationships with cis men. (or men generally assumed to be cis) I tend to use the word queer to describe myself, since it saves a lot of explanations and time. I think though, far more importantly that it’s that willingness to embark on the great gender experiment.

BDSM is about using external signifiers to create certain states of mind. These externals can take many forms, sometimes objects that cause pain, sometimes words that overturn our concepts, our sense of who and what we are. The moment I called Carter Sir for the first time comes to mind. It was done with an understanding of patriarchal and classist norms, the word was not exactly ripped from my lips, but it came close. The external creating within my mind the internal frame of reference for our relationship. A knowing relationship, a relationship which says yes, from the outside we reify certain archetypal gender norms, do you think we don’t know that?

However once one embarks on this exploration of states of mind with a knowingness, an  arch, camp, in the older sense of the word, understanding of the gap between the internal and the external then a wonderful space is created. I am reminded here of a Domme cis woman I know, the only other person I would ever call Sir. When I address her as Sir, it is done with a knowledge of what that word means, of the history of oppression it carries, and again in that space between internal and external something wonderful happens. It is of course also used with the knowlege that Sir is usually a word framed as masculine, and not applied to cis women. It is in its own way a gender experiment, one that says a top can play with gender norms and what is usually framed as masculine behaviour.

Oddly I struggled to tell Carter of that strange sensation, reflecting on that I understanding now I feared he would see it as emasculating. However of course I did not imagine his cock had gone, I imagined it felt like something else. I had fallen deep into that space between the internal and the external, which I hope he is feeling pretty smug about right now.

Is there any point to this post, other than rambling about how simply glorious BDSM can be? I hope so. The Ditums of this world seem stuck in a view of sex as simply mechanical acts. Now the penis is inserted in the vagina. Now there is thrusting. Now we dip the penis in th beaker by the side of the bed. The internal, the state of mind, is so removed from this view of sex that consent does not even enter into the discussion. Someone has a penis so you must have sex with them. Sex is always about that insertion, a penis is always a weapon, thrusting, taking, demanding, never soft, warm, yielding, giving.

Of course the therapist in me recognizes there may be reasons the second wavers played out personal trauma as supposed theory. Why it was claimed all sex must be rape, by people who clearly had experienced rape and internalised the shame and stigma. However they are adults too, and in choosing to abuse others any abuse they have suffered is no excuse.

I am wary here of giving the idea that one must go as far down the rabbit hole as Carter and I have. There are many ways to explore that internal space. However I look at the swerf/ terf description of sex, their attitude to it, and the underlying beliefs it conveys. A world where sex is solely about the externals, is the world of patriarchy. It is a world where sex as an act is about men marking their territory and women as not the territory, but a mere external signifier of a mans status in the patriarchal hierarchy. Thats what happens when you refuse to accept the internal world of sex, when you insist the penis is male, and always a weapon of oppression.

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2 comments on “Down the rabbit hole.

  1. cartertheblogger
    March 7, 2015

    I love this, and it makes perfect sense

    Like

    • jemima2013
      March 8, 2015

      🙂 thank you so long as we both have a clue what i am on about

      Like

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This entry was posted on March 7, 2015 by in Uncategorized and tagged , , .

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