The Saddest Thing About Dick Pics with Ferrett Steinmetz

Dick pics. Cock Shots. Digital photography and the means to send said digital photographs to anyone with an internet connection instantly means lots of women (and men, probably) have seen a LOT of unsolicited peen.

There have been discussions galore about why on Earth senders would choose to do this. Nina Hartley thinks it has to do with the fact that, to these men, their penises are nothing but wondrous things and so, surely, others will see them as wondrous things of happiness as well.

A sort of sharing the joy type of deal.

Then there’s the lazy exhibitionist theory–wherein the sendee gets everything they need out of the situation merely from sending a photo of his junk. He doesn’t expect a response–he just likes knowing someone has seen it against their will. If it’s made that person uncomfortable then all the better.

This week’s mentor post is from The Ferrett. Original post on Fetlife here. In it he brings up an entirely new view on the unsolicited peen pic.

[And I do mean unsolicited. If it’s requested and everyone’s onboard for some naughty time, then go for it.]

The Saddest Thing About Dick Pics

The dick pic is part of a balanced breakfast – or should be, anyway. Hey, you know, women show their breasts, men should be able to show their cocks. All’s a good turn-on.

The problem is, you have an entire swath of mankind who seem convinced their dick is the best part of them.

Seriously. These are some sad brainwashed motherfuckers. They’ve been brainwashed by society’s ridiculous emphasis on the penis that they have, literally, chosen to reduce themselves to a penis in the mistaken belief that a penis is what people want.

And who can blame ’em? When you look at the sad stew of sexual advice men get, it’s this toxic mix of ideas that you have to have a gigantic penis, and the penis has to always be hard, and women want the penis more than anything else, and you can tell whether you’re better than another guy by the penis.

These guys ingest this toxic crap until, literally, they come to believe that their penis is them.

They’re baring their soul to you, and their soul is a half-hard cock.

How pathetic is that?

And it’s not that women shouldn’t be annoyed to get Yet Another Dick Pic, but when you break it down that message is frequently a way of saying, “I believe that the only thing anyone could find desirable about me is this organ.” It’s a hideous reductiveness that carves away their charm, carves away their face, carves away their hobbies –

And they have carved it away themselves. These poor schmucks have so bought into this male-centric penis worship that literally encourages them to self-erase. The only way they believe they can get satisfying sex is to either make this cock bigger or harder or both – and in many cases, they literally don’t realize how common dicks are. They’re baffled because hey, I showed a dick, why aren’t you running to come get it like in the James Bond movies and pornos?

And look. I send cock picks out all the time. And 99% of the time, these pictures are welcomed because I have provided context of me as a human being – here’s who I am, here’s how I can turn you on, here’s a cock for you to think about.

I’m not against dick pics, I am against dick pics as the sole introduction to another human being.

The dick pics are annoying. But they’re also a syndrome of how poorly we educate dudes. Somewhere out there, there’s a message broadcasting the wave of You are your cock your cock is you, and the fact that anyone is buying into this – let alone millions of dudes – is fucking terrifying.

If you’re not on Fetlife, The Ferrett also has a blog where you can read his writing.

Being Brutally Polyamorous with Ferrett Steinmetz

Ferrett Steinmetz (TheFerrett to people on Fetlife) is hilarious and honest about the highs and lows of polyamory.

In this week’s mentor post, he offers some advice to someone considering ‘taking it easy’ on the poly for the sake of their new monogamous partner.

Be Brutally Polyamorous

“I’m polyamorous, but my partner’s new to this. They say they’re okay with what I’ve told them about poly, but… I can tell they’re nervous. So I’m going to damp it down for a while just to be kind to them – I’ll go easy on the side-dating.”

Don’t do that.

Your kindness will rip ’em to shreds.

Because if you give someone an artificial trial period, one where you give them the faux-monogamous experience to make them comfortable, then all you’re doing is lulling them into a sense of “Oh, this is what it’s like.”

And when you start up the dating after a while, they’re going to be even more panicky. Because not only will they have the usual assortment of jealousies and insecurities that come when you transition into a multi-partner relationship, but also they’ll be thinking, “But… you didn’t date anyone for a year! Now you’re looking for someone else!

“What did I do wrong?”

And here’s one of the central truths about relationships: What usually scares people the most is deviations from the established norm. For example, I have a sweetie who’s a swinger: she goes to clubs and guzzles cock like there’s no tomorrow. She tells me about her problems organizing gangbangs. I think it’s adorable.

But that’s because I met her as a swinger. That’s who she was, and who she continues to be.

If my wife, who’s fairly conservative in who she sleeps with, suddenly started hitting the clubs every night, I would fucking panic.

I’d panic because my wife’s behavior would have changed, and I’d feel like maybe I didn’t know her as well as I’d thought I did, and wonder what I was doing wrong that she suddenly was into freaky anonymous sex. And whereas I know my sweetie loves me thoroughly because “gangbangs” were just part of our background noise, my wife attending ’em regularly would be different.

Not saying I couldn’t get used to it. I could adjust.

But that switch in behavior is what scares people.

Giving them a “trial period” and then dropping the big change of “Oh yeah, I date other people now” is going to hurt someone unfamiliar to polyamory more. Often, a lot more. You are doing them zero kindnesses.

Because what’ll happen by then is that you’ll be so much more attached by the time you find out the other person said they’d be okay with poly, but really, turns out they can’t handle it. It’s not like this happened in the first weeks of dating, when you were soppy with NRE but also shallowly attached – no, it’s been months, you’re both emotionally entangled. To discover after a year that whoops, this whole poly thing is actually a dealbreaker for your other partner hurts way more.

If you’re going to be poly, own it.

Mind you, I’m not saying to go out and date someone you hate to rip off the band-aid! If they’re the currently only person in your life, cool, drift with that. But for God’s sake, if you were dating other people before, keep dating. Don’t give your trying-to-adjust partner the illusion that this is trial period is what they’re signing up for.

They deserve to know what sort of effects dating other people will have on them. Some of them will be every bit as cool with it as they promised. Others will need some adjustment, and hopefully you can fine-tune your caring to give them what they need without selling out your satisfaction. And still others will freak out so much that really, your choices boil down to “be monogamous with them” or “break up.”

All of these things are better to know early on.

So yeah. It seems selfish, but… be brutal. Show them what they’re in for. Polyamory’s not for everyone, and going out of your way to give people the impression that “polyamory” means “occasionally you flirt but really, nothing happens” can demolish ’em once the first dating happens. And if you drop that hammer after they’ve come to rely on your love and support, you’ll be one of those poly folks going, “How could they not know I was poly? I told them! Why are they shocked now?”

They’re shocked because you told them that what you were doing was what they could expect, and it wasn’t.

So keep dating. Give them as much love as you can. Hug them and let them know that your love for them is a unique thing that’s not touched by other people.

But keep dating.

Though I found this writing on Fetlife, it is also available on TheFerrett’s blog.

Kink Can be Tedious with Ferrett Steinmetz

TheFerrett (Ferrett Steinmetz) is one of my favorite writers on FetLife. This week’s mentor post is one of his pieces and it concerns just how non-spontaneous kink can be.

It’s incredibly mundane, really.

I wish that were sarcasm.

He writes on Fet a lot, but his website has even more of his work.

And now, on to just how much (not-so-fun) effort goes into being a freak.

The Tedium of Scheduling a Gang Bang

I have a friend who’s always scheduling gang bangs.

Note the precision of that word: she spends more time scheduling them than she does having them.

Now, the popular take is that dudes are fuck-hungry horndogs who would drop anything to get their dick wet. But in truth, finding a dude who’s willing to get erections in front of other men turns out to be pretty fucking rare.

Some are homophobic, and worried the mere sight of a peen might poison them into gayness – let alone what happens if they brush up against one. Others aren’t sure whether they’ll be able to perform in front of other men, and God, it’s embarrassing enough to have Little Elvis take a premature curtain call when it’s just one woman – but a whole crowd?

Others still love the idea of gangbang sex, then get squicked when the day comes – like many fantasies, it’s better kept in the shrinkwrap, never to be opened. Still others fear showing up at a hotel room and being mugged or blackmailed.

Still others get sick at the last minute, or forgot they’d promised to take their kids to see the new Disney pic that afternoon. You know; normal scheduling difficulties.

And all that comes on top of the problems with arranging gangbangs- you need a burly friend you trust to tell the new dudes what’s allowed and how this is going to go down, and you have to find a hotel that’s okay with this, and you have to plan the condoms and lube to bring and worry about latex allergies, and, and, and….

By the time it’s all done, I know of at least three gangbangs that had at least eight dudes RSVPed, and nobody showed.

There’s a lot of empty gangbangs out there.

(Which is the other reason you bring the burly friend. If nobody shows, the burly friend is like the best man – they step in and fuck the shit out of you. Make sure your burly friend is good in bed!)

Which, even after all these years, strikes me as hysterical. I’d never thought of a failed gangbang, but the difference between the popular media portrayal of Fantastically Kinky Sex and the reality of it is vast.

But then I think how much of kinky sex is not kinky. I think of me, getting home from a big convention and sterilizing all my fire cups, airing out the wands, checking the alcohol levels and goddammit, I gotta stop by CVS, I’m almost out.

I think of cleaning up after a big scene, the room strewn with clothes and handcuffs and knives and floggers, and starting the cold and unsexy business of putting them away.

I think of rope nuts endlessly washing and whipping their rope, forever piling it into coils, debating hard points strong enough to hang a person off of.

I think of all the tarps and sanitary processes you have to do to sterilize a scene for bloodplay, before and after.

And I think, “Why should gangbangs be any different than the rest of kink?” And the answer is, they aren’t. Kink can come organically – ask anyone who’s undergone a spontaneous scene with my sharp sharp pretty pretty princess nails – but a lot of kink is this bubble of fantastic sensation, arrived at because someone’s done a lot of work to build that St. Andrews’ Cross and to clean off the manacles so you don’t have to worry about picking up something from the leather.

And even then, there are scenes that don’t happen. The number of times I’ve told someone, “I’m gonna set your ass on fire this weekend, and then beat it!” and then never managed to find the time for them are legendary. I’m sure someone who’s not me would find it hard to believe that “getting a woman naked and setting her on fire” could be scotched because we never managed to be in the same room at the same time, but….

It happens. All the fucking time.

So much of kink fizzles because of the same ordinary reasons that other things get cancelled: flat tires. Schedule conflicts. Couldn’t find the time. And that old friend, “Not in the mood.”

A lot of kink is, weirdly, that tedium of preparation. Making sure everything is set up safely, so the proper implements are at hand and the big decisions have been made in advance.

All so when the time comes, so can you.

And I find that setup delightful. So many stories seem to treat kink as something you were either born into, like the Chosen One Of Cum, or that strikes your innocent life is like a virus.

Whereas the truth is that kink is not, in fact, some mystical force that you tap into, but rather a choice you make to allow to happen in your life. And some of us live it 24/7, and others plan fun weekends that sometimes pan out, and the rest of the time we’re just people who’ve tried to schedule A Thing, except that Thing involves gangbangs.

And we’ve all had a party or two that fizzled. No big whoop.