Rope::Burn

I had an absolute blast at Rope::Burn last night. I appeared as an intermission act and my task was to use a fucking machine in front of an audience. I have to admit, I was hesitant at first. Valentine’s Day is not my favorite holiday for a number of reasons and it tends to bum me out a little. Not just because I’m single (I have a ton of friends, lovers, and friendly lovers that all fulfill me in their own ways) but because I have some history with the day. Then I came down with a Martian Death Flu that knocked me off my feet and into bed for two days with a fever, a perpetually runny nose, and awful achy joints. I was also worried about how I was going to fuck myself without coming off as sleazy slutty.

I am pretty slutty, don’t get me wrong. But sex is a really joyful thing for me. I often have giggling fits at orgasm and a lot of people remark on the smile I get on my face when I’m having sex. I celebrate sexuality in all of its forms because of how profoundly happy it makes me whether I’m by myself, with a partner, or with several partners at the same time. I am Miss Maggie Mayhem, not Miss Maggie Serious Face. Sex positivity, to me, means that every human body regardless of age, physical ability, relative attractiveness, gender, or orientation was designed for sexual expression. For some people I know that is asexuality or celibacy and for others it may take on more acrobatic forms like SM. I don’t believe that any form of consensual sex is inherently bad.

So when I say that I didn’t want to come off as ‘sleazy slutty’ what I mean to say is that I wanted people to look at me and know that I was up there on the stage to celebrate myself, my body, and my sexuality and that it makes me joyful. I didn’t want people to look at me and think I was up there for desperation, fear, or sadness. I wasn’t up there to chase away a demon or fill a void somewhere in my heart. I was there to show people that I’m full of life and that I want to share it with them.

So for me the easiest way to connect those things was to make people laugh and smile while also feeling aroused. I wanted to be playful and sexy. But I didn’t really know how I was going to do that while I was being fucked by a machine onstage. I wasn’t content to just lay back and let a thing fuck me. I’ve never interacted with any sexual partner like that. I want to touch them, talk to them, and be fully present in the moment. There is no laying back and thinking of England for me.

I felt a bit challenged at first. If you were to just look at the machine, you would simply see a cold piece of steel with a rather absurd purpose. I had to animate it somehow. I had Mike bring it out onstage covered up in a cloth with a sign that said, “Maggie- Do Not Touch.” When I came out onstage I took a look at it and I crawled up to it almost like a cat stalking its prey and I looked at the signs and I pouted. I then proceeded to pull off the signs and rip out the “Not” and replace it so that it read, “Maggie- Do Touch.” Then I liftef the cover for a peek, I crawled under it, and I started to put some of the pieces together, and revealed it at last. In many ways I wanted it to be a fun strip tease for the machine as well as myself.

But a few funny things happened on the way to the fucking machine. At one point during my crawling, without any rhyme or reason, my little top popped right off of me. It didn’t snag on anything, I didn’t tug on it, it just exploded off of my chest. Now as far as I’m concerned there was someone in the audience who possessed jedi mind powers or read The Secret cover to cover in one sitting. I went with it. It’s not like I was planning to stay clothed the whole time anyway.

I was also unaware of what songs the DJ would be playing. As I had gotten into position to begin the fucking, The Dyvinyls “I Touch Myself” came on and I looked at the Hitachi wand in my hand and I brought it up to my mouth like a microphone while the machine was actively penetrating me. My lips moved to the tune of the song and eventually I brought the vibe to my clit and then the real sexual magic began to occur. My leg involuntarily shook like a dog when you find just the right place to scratch. I had a fantastic orgasm in front of a crowd of people and the act was coming to a close.

I was thrown over a shoulder and brought offstage pouting the whole way. As I finally started to feel my legs touch the ground I realized that my chest was flushed and red. I felt overheated but in a wonderful way. I shook hands, I smiled, and I accepted compliments from people. I hope that I was able to make them feel good about their sexuality.

It was what I needed to have happen because my last post was a bit angry. I enjoy a brand of sexuality that is always being pushed to defend itself or apologize. Submissive women have to apologize for having a drive and a desire to submit when they ‘should’ be a feminist who would never take orders from a man like that. Dominant men have to apologize for being sexually aroused by taking control and creating erotic pain because they should feel guilty for the privilege afforded to them because of their gender. A switch is forever explaining that they aren’t confused or screwed up in the head. A submissive man has to apologize for not being enough of a man and a dominant woman is left to fend off accusations that she’s just a bitch. We’re all hearing these messages that we’re crazy, or broken, or sick, or just plain evil but I’ve always seen what we do as exploring the endless diversity of human experience. I get tired of feeling that I have to go to war for something that doesn’t harm anyone.

I’m not just looking at the world through rose colored glasses. I see the dark side of sex every single day I go to work. I tell people that they are HIV+, I talk with confused and scared teenagers that are homeless on the streets of San Francisco 80% of whom were sexually abused as children. I have seen up close and personal the dangers of sex work on the streets. I go to battle with these things every single week and I fight them with all of my heart. Deep down, I still see our sexuality in all of its forms as a reason to celebrate. Sometimes I run into things that even I find a little strange, but I am thankful that they exist because nothing that is human can ever be foreign to me.

So I spent the feast of St. Valentine sharing something that I see very much as a gift with a room full of people. Some of them are my lovers, many are my friends, and most were strangers. I did not find my actions degrading or humiliating nor did I suffer any personal cost or loss. Maybe this is far too philisophical for jerking off, I have been known to over think things at times. I just know that I would go absolutely mad if I looked for the worst in everything all the time. I live to see the benedictions, the mitzvahs, and the beauty.

I don’t want to come off as too much of a hippie either. I still have a strong sarcastic streak that is alive and well. I’m probably still high off of those happy orgasm hormones that make me want to run around and hug everyone, eat pizza, and fall asleep. I hope your Valentine’s Day was as good as mine.