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Taking One For the Queers: How to Be a Gentleman Goddess

Oh boy.

So, there’s this thing you learn in studying queer history about the ways doctors like to change bodies to conform to the sexual binary that we’ve all been taught exists (but is actually more wibbly wobbly sexy wexy). And it has to do specifically with making female genitalia look…appropriate. Because everyone was so frightened that lesbians would be able to penetrate one another and therefore wouldn’t need men.

Go ahead. Laugh all you want. But people are still strange about female desire and expression today. Just bring up female ejaculation and watch them squirm.

Anyway, there are actually some fairly large clitorises out there. So large that they used to cut them down to size. Some of them are a couple inches long. Sometimes it starts off small and then increases in size after a piercing or after starting testosterone. They all tend to look like very small penises (which makes sense, considering how the human body forms in utero).

It took me years to stop dreading removing my pants to reveal my overly large clitoris. It protrudes, sticking straight out instead of being nested and pointing down. It never draws all the way within the clitoral hood. I literally have a one-inch intact penis down there. That expands to about two inches when I’m aroused. It’s not very thick-only about a half inch around-or at least not as thick as some of the others I’ve seen that are large.

But it’s big enough to be able to do some things few human beings can. First, it’s big enough to pierce safely. An actual clitoral piercing-as opposed to a hood or labial piercing-is very, very rare. Second, it’s big enough for, ah, penetration (can you tell I’m so nervous talking about this?).

Being genderqueer, this actually works well for me. Sometimes I wish it was bigger (doesn’t every man?) and I fret over whether I’m giving my partner any actual pleasure. I also fret over whether straight partners are put off by it.

But actually, they all seem to love it. For some, it’s even a fetish.

Fantastic! As I’ve learned to make peace with my illness-riddled body over the years, I’ve come to consider myself a gentleman goddess (combine those two looks and you have my personality/style).

So how does this work? Well, my male half is usually referred to as Zack. He doesn’t have as many sex partners as Michon, but he loves to play. And he really enjoys anal. Sometimes my partner gender swaps and plays female for me or simply remains male while I’m Zack, with or without me penetrating his anus.

There are several possibilities with me as male or female, dominating or not:

  1. I can dock with their foreskin/penetrate their vagina
  2. I can pretend their testicles are breasts/use their breasts
  3. I can have them give me a blow job
  4. I can bend them over and take my pleasure

I can’t describe how exciting and fulfilling it is to feel myself inside another person. Obviously deep penetration isn’t possible, but we’re so mentally, emotionally, and sexually in sync that it doesn’t even matter. One of the benefits is that I don’t have to worry too much about being gentle and doing damage to internal organs. I also don’t have to worry about my internal organs if I’m having pain from one of my conditions.

And the best thing is that after Zack is satisfied, I can lay down and morph back into Michon, who loves being devoured by someone’s mouth and tongue. I get to dance in both worlds, fulfilling and expressing my masculinity and femininity, my wholeness.

It’s why I laugh when straight men treat me like a woman; they don’t realize how often it’s Zack sitting there and how incredibly gay it feels. It’s also one of the things that allows me to see through their bullshit; I notice the signs when they only want to fuck me.

I have the best of all worlds in some ways. I’m able to be male, female, neither, and both sexually. I can have gay sex, lesbian sex, queer sex, and boring sex. Just kidding; I’ve never had boring sex.

In other ways it’s the worst. Parts of me get erased when someone only sees me as one or the other. And black men in particular are more wary of letting their guard down. Because anal usually means gay in our culture. And gay is the worst thing you can be besides female.

Add female domination into the mix and you’re completely upsetting the natural order. Black culture is so obsessed with “men lead, women follow” that there’s often not much discussion about our shared humanity.

Where those of other races tend to be willing to be penetrated sooner, or know for sure it’s not their thing, I’ve found that black men tend to take years to unpack the collective baggage. Toxic masculinity hits black men particularly hard, even for those who are gay.

The black gay men I’ve known (none of which would want to sleep with me because I wasn’t assigned male at birth) have tried to balance their orientation with their Christianity. Often, this leaves them bifurcated and stunted.

Black sexuality, in many ways, has been poisoned for so long that it tends to be destructive rather than constructive, divisive rather than conducive, empty rather than full.

On top of that, queer sex isn’t often discussed, no matter what race you belong to. And many queer people don’t much like putting their sex lives out there to be scrutinized because we already get enough shit. For years, I kept my kinky and queer desires contained in my books.

But I think there’s a real opportunity for the sexes and genders to explore gender play, or to express their gender sexually in a better way, or simply to have better sex.

But only if we queers speak up about what we want and actually do. Until then, I’ll be sharing my own adventures as your friendly sadistic gentleman goddess. Watch this space.


Originally published at harlot.media.

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