Apollonia Saintclair 269 – 20121221 Le murmure d’ange (The whispering angel)

I’m sharing this because it evokes a visceral response in me. And because detailed images like this often make me feel tiny. Right now I’d like to imagine a tiny lover curled up in my ear, caressing me and licking me. Whispering to me.

I was 22 before a friend helped me discover that my ears are the second most sensitive, erotic place on my body. In some ways, it has more power even than my clitoris. A kiss or a tongue in my ear will bring me to my knees. It is a reset button for my brain with high risk for extreme full body everything. Shivers, tingles, ticklish sensitivity, arousal. Mostly arousal.

Some friends inadvertently kink shamed me recently, and they didn’t even know it. Twice.

We were on a camping trip, seated around a fire, passing around bottles of honey whiskey and homebrewed ginger beer. It was twilight, and hard to read peoples’ faces. The Texas sky was filling with stars and sparks floating up from our fire.

Somehow the conversation turned to “wet willies” and licking ears. “I just don’t get why that is a turn-on,” one of my friends said. “It seems gross to me.”

I blushed while people chimed in with their own opinions about this odd sex act. To my left sat a poly friend who I dated briefly this year, and his partner. I listened to them discuss how they’d be willing to lick each others’ ears if the other were into it. But neither was into it, so oh well.

I remembered my first make-out session with this friend and how delighted he had been to discover my reaction when he slipped the tip of his tongue into the hollow of my ear. Full body everything. Vocal. Vocal as fuck, in fact. I was amused that he didn’t remember that this applied to me, and charmed by the willingness of the couple to service each others’ sexual needs. I was also grateful for their non-judgmental presence as the other more vanilla people around the fire continued to agree that “wet willies” were a gross thing to want, sexually. 

I was on the verge of speaking up and saying how it was pretty much a magic button for me, and that this was outside my control. But the topic took an even more uncomfortable turn.

“You think that’s weird? That’s nothing. I know this one guy, he’s into something crazy.” 

“Are we talking spanking crazy? Or, like, diaper crazy?“

“He told me this word, I didn’t understand it, but he said it didn’t matter, it was really weird and rare. But I wanted to know, so I asked him to tell me about it.”

“What was it, already?”

“He was into smashing cities. Like, Godzilla. Only with a woman, like a really big woman stomping on buildings and smashing up a city.”

“Fuck. That’s really weird.”

“I know, right?”

“He got off to that? Kaiju as a turn on? How is that even sexual?”

“Yeah, like how does that even work? That’s some crazy shit right there.”

I remember my stomach dropping out, and my kinky poly friend turn immediately to see my facial expression. I had come out to him about my microphilia/macrophilia on our first date. We’d compared our kinks conversationally and enjoyed pushing each others’ buttons recreationally. I trusted him completely. He put his hand on my arm and looked as if he wanted to know if I was okay.

I wasn’t okay. But he was drunk and outing me might’ve been an easy thing to do by accident. I patted his hand and whispered that it was adjacent to my kink, but not exactly my thing. That was more or less a lie. In reality, I have gotten off to city smashing. From both perspectives. It’s not my primary thing, and I have to be in the mood for it, and (unless I’m really fucking pissed off) I have to first visualize the city being evacuated or otherwise abandoned. So it wasn’t totally honest of me.

But I was horrified by the thought of my other, apparently pretty vanilla friends learning about my own desire for a giant woman to demolish buildings around me… my desires to be the Giant woman who smashes cities… to be outed right after they’d expressed disgust for it? 

I wish I’d been brave enough to try and remember who’d spoken up about their friend with the city smashing kink. It had been dark around the fire and by the time I understood the personal importance of what was being said, the original speaker was lost in the back-and-forth. I wouldn’t have been brave enough, anyway. The speaker had just proven they couldn’t be trusted with the vulnerability of their friends.

I felt bad for the speaker’s friend, who had trusted them with their kink and would likely now be horrified to know they were being examined by strangers and found wanting. I would bet a whole bottle of whiskey that the strange word they had said was “macrophilia.” I’ll probably never know.

Mostly, I wish I’d found a way to ask about the person with the city-smashing kink so I could get in touch with them and see what might happen between us. But I wasn’t brave enough to be that vulnerable, especially with a person who’d proven they couldn’t be trusted.

Kinkshaming is fucked up, y’all. I haven’t been perfect about this in my own life or probably even in this blog. But I can tell you now that people can’t control what their body responds to, and nobody deserves to be kinkshamed. 

Shame is cruel. It just makes you feel isolated and alone when you’re not. There are people out there in the world who feel what you’re feeling. There is nothing wrong with you. The world is just a big, diverse place and it takes some effort to find your tribe. Don’t let others make you feel bad about something which brings you pleasure.

I promise you, you’re not alone and you have no reason to be ashamed.

Damn. Always appreciate your eloquence and deeply thoughtful take on our kink scene, @mightytinygiant, but in this case I’m sorry this happened. I don’t know what I’d have done, partially because I literally can’t fathom anyone I know IRL bringing this all up, positively or negatively or neutrally.

I, too, have almost certainly done my share of kinkshaming even when I know it’s wrong. Perhaps there’s no harm in occasional snark and wiseassery, and maybe the speaker thought they were around friends who’d share the same opinion, for the same reason I’d happily mock, like, corny music with friends of that feather but not people who might be into that. None of you are into corny music right? This is a horrible metaphor. I digress.

I also think, to a degree, we can get frustrated and therefore dismissive of the things that aren’t up my alley. I feel this way on here sometimes, where tbh I don’t feel like a cultural fit with a lot of the people who share my kink online… And I have to remember that feeling resentful about that is not the right reaction at all.

A hard thing is having a kink that is aaaalllll the way into the realm of sci-fi/fantasy. To sexualize THAT is something I can’t explain at all, and what prompts the most shame. It’s so niche as to sound like a joke kinda? But in the past 50 years we’ve made some societal strides toward accepting sex for pleasure desires at all, and then casual sex, and LGBT sex, and in the past couple years even kinks that are more practical IRL (at least if you’re a dom man and a sub woman, thanks(?) 50 Shades). Far from perfect in all of those, but tangible progress is something. Maybe our VR age of the future will usher in acceptance of wacky surrealist kinks. Hope so.

In the meantime I’m glad I have this space, at least, to blurt all this out, and you all to read it.

I love everything about this entire post. I am also totally into ear stuff because it really makes me feel small–hearing their breathing and/or voice so intimately and overwhelmingly, especially if they say size kink stuff to you… GAH. I’m sure I have more and more intelligent things to say about the whole host of things mentioned above, but now I am stuck on imagining a certain person putting his beautiful mouth up to my ear…

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