Being home alone is sometimes really great and sometimes really dangerous. It’s great because I am often at my most productive when I have a silent, empty apartment and I’m alone with my thoughts. I guess this is where my muse is. It’s dangerous because I never know what my muse is going to inspire me to do, and it’s rarely what I had planned. Ah well, the things I have to do always seem to eventually even out with the things I’m inspired to do over time.

In any event, tonight my muse is Tilda, who writes about her desire to be sexually used and objectified. Further, she does so with quite a flair for the OMGSEXY, if you asked me (or Axe, from whose blog I saw the post linked). In her post, Tilda writes:

[The story] revolved around a girl who “belonged” to this motorcycle gang (of course). She was there be fucked, a party favor. She lay naked in bed and throughout the evening guys would come in, fuck her and go. In and out whenever they pleased. She was just expected to lie there and keep her legs spread.

[…]

Lucky for me, I don’t have to find a shady bathroom in the back of a porn shop or befriend a motorcycle gang because I know someone who knows some penises.

Then she goes on to describe the hot sex she had one night when her “emcee” arranged for one such penis to fuck her. That’s the pr0n part, in case you’re wondering. You should go read it if you’re in the mood, or maybe if you’re not yet in the mood.

What struck me, though, was the way she referred to that guy in the beginning. She called him a penis, nothing more and nothing less. It got me wondering, because I’ve often had similar thoughts as she has, who’s objectifying who?

Now admittedly, the closest I’ve ever come to experiencing something like what Tilda describes was a conversation that I paraphrase here with pronouns changed to protect the innocent:

“Hey may, what are you doing tonight?”

“Uh, not much. At my computer reading articles. Why?”

“Want to come to [the House] and get a blowjob?”

“Uh…what?”

“One of [Mistress Name’s] clients wants a forced bi session and the first dude cancelled at the last minute. We have, like, 2 hours to find another guy or she’ll lose the session.”

“Thanks, but, I don’t really think that’s my kind of scene.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll be blindfolded the whole time. He’ll never see you. You can be blindfolded too, if that’ll help.”

“Um, yeah, no. Thanks but no thanks. Good luck finding someone, though.”

I turned the offer down (and there have been more than one offer, which some part of me supposes I should be happy about) because I don’t have any interest in helping some prodomme I have never heard of before keep a session. The question at hand is pretty ridiculously obvious: what’s in it for me? I may be a primitive male, but (unlike what some researchers seem to think) a blowjob, especially one I’m being solicited for to help someone else make money, just isn’t worth it.

Anyway, what I found erotic about Tilda’s post is that it’s difficult to discern exactly who’s objectifying who in her retelling of the scene. Is she being objectified by being the fucktoy for this random guy, or is she objectifying the man fucking her, using him solely for his pseudo-dominant presence and role as a “mere user” of her body. There’s certainly no doubt that in my mind, I construct fantasies of dominant personas all the time, and I have no qualms about getting off to these fantasies and ideas. Surely there’s some kind of objectification going on there, too, despite the fact that I’m always the bottom, always the one getting fucked, in this lustful fiction.

One of the reasons that thought process is so arousing for me is because it’s an exemplary circumstance in which to exert my submissive will. That is, it’s an example of active (not passive) submission, and I like actively participating in my own submission. I mean, if I’m not engaged, if I’m just doing it so some prodomme I don’t know will get her paycheck…well, fuck, what’s the point?

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