And every time I listen to a record with great production and some THC in my system, I start to believe that I experience sound as shape. But it turns out anyone who gives a fuck about music and enjoys pot seems to have a similar experience.
I do occasionally have this odd experience of the sight of a particular texture making me think that I can feel it. B&W images of twill patterns exposed just-so they seem to have a 3D pop to them always do it. Looking at them it’s as if I’m actually stroking the fabric with my fingertips.
It can be more subtle. But it can also be much, much more intense.
Take this image:
I can’t explain what it is about it but looking at it feels like my facial muscles are similarly contracted and I can almost taste it. But, strangely, I simultaneously feel lips pressing against me and the ever so slight suction. It makes me feel all weird and adlepated in my tummy.
But, with the top picture I can actually explain why it is that looking at it makes me feel like my nipples are clamped. It’s all in the color–the inflamed red against the peach-pink of the areola.
So I’m posting it for that. But it also reminds me of this post guest curated by my best friend. I get the feeling she’d really dig this image.
I find this both—and in equal measure—problematic and arousing.
First, it’s troubling that the scene is presented devoid of context. This could be consensual BDSM play or torture porn.
A part of me assumes, instinctively—given the extremity of the actions depicted, the implication of the scissor clamps dangling from her right nipple as well as the fact that the scene was documented and is now circulating the Tumblr-verse—consent was sought and explicit verbal affirmation given.
My concern is that no one should ever assume anything when it comes to consent.
Thus, a relationship is established between the clip and its audience wherein the predispositions and desires fill in the blanks. In other words: someone like myself—who holds consent as the minimum requirement for sexual expressions—chooses to trust that this shares my ideals. Whereas, another individual looking for torture porn, trusts that there is no need for any suspension of disbelief.
This everything-to-everyone tact bothers me even more than the assumptions with regard to consent; however, it also sheds some light on what turns me on.
I am not really into BDSM although lately I have been posting a good bit of it. I think that has to do with the fact that I sort of have this running argument in my head about which presents first: consent or trust.
And while I cannot dismiss the fact that the thing I like most about sexually explicit imagery is seeing people surrender to whatever they need to get themselves off, what gets me about this image is that it insists that I trust it even though trusting it makes me more than a little uncomfortable, what makes the fluttering rise and fall of her chest as pliers twist her nipple a full 180 degrees clockwise.
When I had a crashpad membership recently, one of my favorite videos included a scene where a Domme made her sub hold the chain to her nipple clamps in the manner above while she was aggressively fucked.
There were many things I liked about this scene: how the Domme was assertive without being cruel, how the sub followed orders in an almost casual way, and how gleeful this sustained rough sex obviously made both of them.
It’s true that there are some tricky things to navigate when one partner enjoys being objectified during sex, and I certainly wouldn’t want to downplay the reservations some people may have toward this kind of roleplay.
Then again, I don’t want to avoid the fact that I find consensual objectification, especially when my girlfriend is hellbent on being a good girl, hot.
In reasons related to this, I’m attracted to how the girl in this photo is holding the chain fast between her teeth as if the idea of decreasing the pain to her nipples has occurred to her, but she is wholly intent on resisting this impulse.