Kneeling
A white guy in his early twenties kneels on the floor in front of an industrial gray wall. He wears a black leather band around his right bicep, a bulldog harness, and a black leather jockstrap. He sits on his heels. His hair is cut in a conservative fashion and parted to the right, in a style not unlike what you might expect of a used car salesman in Mississippi. His arms are drawn behind his back and we cannot tell if they are bound. The light in this black and white photo comes from one side. His left pectoral stands out as if at attention, in stark contrast with the harness. The left side of his face is lit, the right is in the shadows. He neither smiles nor frowns. He looks directly, seriously, intently into the camera. He waits for instructions.
The boy in this image is hot. The image is sexualized. He is mostly naked, and the little he wears is black leather. The harness accents his just-built-enough chest, the band around his bicep points out he’s spent a little time (but not too much) in the gym. The jock (or is it briefs? we cannot tell from this angle) accents his svelte midriff, and the barely visible treasure trail teasingly disappears into leather. He is highly sexual and an object of desire.
But the point of this image is not that he is to be lusted after. The point of this image is that he presents himself as ready to serve. In addition to being an object of desire he is an acting subject. The look on his face is not ‘come hither,’ but rather ‘yes, Sir.’ The posture isn’t ‘come do me,’ but rather ‘what can I do for you, Sir?’ He doesn’t offer a flogger or an erection, he offers himself. The monochromatic nature of the photograph speaks to this. It says ‘here I am in black and white – this is who I am.’ Yes he wants us to lust after him, he wants us to want him. But more than that, he clearly wants to give something of himself.
What I find compelling about this photo is its emphasis on the submissive desire to give. This image says ‘I am serious about subsuming my will to yours.’ It is packaged in the body of a hot young man wearing leather, but you can tell from the look on his face he means business. You get the feeling he is just as ready to give sexual service as to go wash your car. He’s just as ready to give up his body to your touch as he is to put on some boots and move boxes from the attic to the basement. He may want a reward for a job well done, but you get the genuine feeling he’d be as completely happy with a ‘good boy’ as with any form of sexual gratification.
I like this image because it gives voice to a deep desire of my heart.
Hero
He was extremely cute so fucking sexy, sitting across from me in the cafe. We met up kind of late for a school night – 10 PM – and having just come from work he needed to use the powder room. Said powder room was occupied for a considerable amount of time, and he ran out to make use of a fast food establishment’s facility. He came back fifteen minutes later with an order of naan from the Indian restaurant next door he’d ended up at as the fast food restaurant had just closed. So we sat there chatting as we munched on naan and ignored the backgammon set he’d brought along to pass the time.
He suggested we go for a walk, something we did the second time we met. It was kind of chilly, I had my bag full of work with me, and I really did not want to traipse around town that late. I wanted to spend any amount of time I could with him, but I hoped to do it in a warm-ish environment. We sat and talked a bit longer, and then he suggested we go watch a movie. Perfect. We walk to his car, I give him driving directions from the cafe to my place. At the cafe, and then as we drive, the conversation continues to make me smile. He tells me about the frats he rushed in college. He tells me about the *huge* stuffed bear he’s taken into work and the loyal following it has attracted among his co-workers. And he tells me about the movies he has in the car, one of which is Hero. I forget the other options – a cartoon, possibly a comedy, and anything I had on offer. I said Hero would be great.
We get to my room, I set up the computer, we snuggle a bit into a comfortable sitting-spoon position. He is on the outside. Our previous dates have involved coffee or going to a bar, then running back to my room and playing as soon as we get there. This is different. This is really comfortable and cozy, and does not involve the immediate frenzy of the sexual electricity between us. He’s into CMNM (as am I, although I didn’t know there was a term until he introduced me to it), and quickly tells me to take my shirt off. Two minutes later (or maybe one) he tells me to take my jeans off. For the rest of the movie we cuddle blissfully, I in my briefs and he fully clothed. No hanky, no panky. Just awesome. We made it through the whole movie with minimal amount of distraction – the occasional touch here, the random neck-nibble there. After the movie finished we move on to more intimate activity, which was all the better for the time we’d just shared, dare I say, cuddling.
I’ve been out on a lot of dates in the past year, and had my fair share of hanky and panky, not to mention a few really great play sessions. Few and far between are the times when I genuinely feel a full and complete integration of the kink and romantic sides of my life. It is tantalizing to see this within reach. It almost feels like an illusion. I feel that if I bend my head to try to drink the water, it will recede and I’ll be left starting at it, parched. I am afraid if I reach for the (forbidden) apple the wind will blow it from my hand and I will feel that much more hungry for the taste the night of Hero gave me.
Standup Routine
Hrm.
I thought I had plans for tonight with this guy I’ve hung out with a few times. Making plans by txt is always slightly iffy, so I easily may have misunderstood.
Either way, still disappointing.
Jealousy of a Black Lab
There is a green space nearby where members of the community bring their dogs. The dogs can be off leash and it’s always interesting to watch the interaction between owners with their pets, owners with other owners, and pets with other pets (the occasional cat comes by and gets scared off rather quickly).
There is one black lab in particular who has a stunningly beautiful owner. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, and brings this lab along every few days for a romp on the grass. Today he brought a tennis ball and was playing a good old game of fetch with said black lab. He’d throw the ball pretty far, she’d run to get it and then bring it back to him. He’d give her some love and attention, then throw it again. This process was repeated numerous times. What I’ve noticed is how firm he is, but how much he obviously loves his dog, and how full of energy but completely obedient she is of his commands.
So.Jealous.Of.This.Dog. I crave the kind of attention he gives this very lucky dog. Loving attention. Firm commands. Play time. I can easily imagined he’s trained her behaviorally by walking through the door first, making her wait to eat until after he has eaten, so on and so forth. I’m not into puppy play, but I think there are lots of ways that paradigm can be instructive for what, I imagine, I want.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a sub and, in particular, how I come across Doms. Specifically, how do I not be a “do me” sub, but also get what I want? Not the larger want of “being submissive” but the smaller wants of specific kinds of play. In my profiles I avoid spelling out elaborate fantasies I want to fulfill, or specific things I require in a play date. Doing so limits me to things I might not have imagined and feels like topping from the bottom. I want to give up control, but I’d be lying if I said there aren’t certain things I want.
For starters I’d settle for a game of fetch and a nap on the couch!
Finger Puppets!
A Dom friend sent this my way today and I can’t help but share:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/73105069/mature-content-submissive-finger-puppet
Kinky finger puppets!
Personally I’d like to be one of the twenty hooded subs waiting for… whatever it is they’re waiting for together. I’m quite sure 20 submissive guys (let’s pretend it’s all guys) in hoods and handcuffs could figure out *something* to do while waiting for Sir… =)
Take Good Care
WordPress provides nifty tools to see how many hits their blogs get. Being the narcissistic person I am, I of course look at the statistics page. Particularly interesting is the section that provides search terms which referred your blog. I often find these funny as some people are clearly looking for other “hitching post” related things, usually to do with horses or old inns… and they get here instead. For that reason I hope my splash page does the trick and keeps out those not looking for a bdsm fix.
Today I noticed that The Hitching Post was found by the following set of search terms:
outsider “not normal” alone
The first thing that struck me was how this combination of words makes me feel so sad. I’ve many times felt like an outsider, like I am not normal, like I am alone in my sexuality because I am gay and because I’m into kink. If anything we should not be alone in our sexuality. Part of my reaction to those feelings is to write this blog. I hope, in its own small way, The Hitching Post might serve to let people know that they are okay, that God created them in all their kinkiness, that God loves them in all their kinkiness, and that they have a place in this world.
If the person who found this blog via that search reads this – I hope you find community and support, and know that you are not alone. If you are depressed, please reach out and find help. The world is a better place because of you, and it is a better place when we are in community with each other.
Oh The Passivity
I find highly amusing the assumption in academic writing about ancient homosex that “anally receptive” = “passive.”
Anyone who thinks that bottoms are passive has not met my ex-boyfriend Stephen.
Doing The Dishes
(This is the first of what I hope to be a series here on The Hitching Post. I’m going to take an image I have in my “collection,” describe it -but not post it – and ruminate on what it means to me.)
A white guy is standing at the sink. We see him from behind. He’s wearing a black jock strap, a full-chest harness, and from the back what appears to be a muzzle. He has standard brown hair. His right ear sticks out from the straps of the muzzle. We can see the outline of a leather restraint on his right wrist. A chain runs from a point at the back of the muzzle at his neck and is attached to something outside the shot. He’s doing the dishes.
The kitchen is nondescript. The floor has foot-square white tiles; the sink has two basins. Dishes are piled up to our boy’s left. A pot is on the stove, and we see a blue dish rag (a drying towel?) on the counter. The cupboard above the sink has a see-through door and we view some dishes neatly stacked and put away.
What I love about this image is its fusion of a sense of normality with bdsm; it is completely domestic. We’re not viewing a dungeon setup, we’re not seeing adventurous sexcapades. We’re seeing a boy doing the dishes, maybe after a dinner party, or maybe after a nice Sunday dinner with his partner. Maybe his partner made dinner and our boy’s regular chore is cleaning up; maybe boy made a special dinner for Sir and boy is now doing the dishes. All we really know is he’s doing a chore. Put him in jeans and a t-shirt and he could be any boyfriend in any relationship on any block in the country.
I like we cannot see where the chain is anchored, just as we cannot see his dominant. It doesn’t matter so much where it is anchored, just that it is – like he to his dominant. The chain isn’t taught, but also not slack; he could probably not walk much father than his current position. He can probably reach all the dishes on the counter, but probably not all the way to the stove. Thus there is restraint. If the photo weren’t being taken by someone we could easily imagine he’s alone in the kitchen, cleaning up while his partner is watching TV in the next room, relaxing and enjoying the benefits of his boy’s service.
In my head bdsm has a feeling of ‘other.’ It feels like something not normal. Which means *I* feel I am something “not normal.” I would like to make it (me) normal for me. I’ve done dishes like this, geared-up, in my own apartment, with nobody there to actually serve. It just felt, well, *right*. This is what I tried to get at in a post earlier about trying to be “submissive” without having someone to serve. If I’m not submitting to someone, what does it mean to wear leather gear while doing the dishes? That I am into gear? Something more?
I want to both be him and do him at the same time. It makes me thinking having a submissive bf wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, if we could both “be submissive together.” Or would that just be two dudes into gear?
Oh Look, The World Exists
1. The end of the semester has brought me back into the world of the living. My grades are being slowly ferried across the Styx right now by Charon, but at least I didn’t have to get in the boat.
2. I fail to understand why homo sapiens, a species which has harnessed the power of atomic fission and produced such great works of art as Fawlty Towers, cannot figure out how to make airport loudspeakers relay the voice of the speaking one to the ears of the listening one in an intelligible manner. blahblahblahloudouchloudouchblahblahJETBLUE.
3. Memorial Day Weekend. Huzzah. Beer. Dancing. Beach. Not necessarily in that order. Drink early and often, that’s what I say.
26 May 2011 | Categories: Running Commentary | Leave A Comment »