Showing posts with label Gender. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gender. Show all posts

Barbie of Gomorrah: The Work of Mariel Clayton




He's a delicate flower: fragile & sensitive.
She's a tough cookie.

He cries while watching movies.
She fast-forwards the film, until it gets to the good part.
They both press the pause button during nude scenes.

She's walks into the room as if she owns the place.
He's so bashful and cute.

She has a thing for black leather.
His bedroom is wall to wall lavender.
They both can't live without chocolate.




     I have been thoroughly entertained by the work of Mariel Clayton!  There is something about seeing a demented Barbie shacking up with an effeminate Ken that yields hilarious results.  She is taking "playing with dolls" to the next level.  Bloody massacres.  Kinky sex.  Fucked up family fun time.  Everything I tried to make happen between G.I. Joe and Barbie when no one was looking as a kid.
     Upon closer inspection, I see that she is also using the dolls to explore gender.  Why are female serial killers considered bizarre?  Why is it so jarring to see the man of a heterosexual household exhibiting hyper-feminine qualities?  Why is it so funny to see toys perform sadism and violence, while crying at real life examples.  If it wasn't playtime, I would ponder these questions.  But I'm curious to see if Ken has genitals in this collection.

Have fun!



Andromimetophilia: Love of Women Dressed Like Men


     She doesn't like to be referred to as 'she'.  If I forget to call her "Mistyr" or "Syr" there's a paddle with my name on it.  (S)he is a new lover of mine and I am falling head over heels in love with her...err..hym(?)  As a bisexual man, she's is giving me the complete package.  She's soft, pretty and petite yet hardcore, handsome and a giant in bed.  But the one thing I love the most: she's simple and direct.
     Letting her fuck me with a strap-on was an incredible, yet surreal experience.  Seeing her breast bounce really aroused me, because it was such a stark contrast to the black cock pumping inside of me.  Fucking me like a gentleman, she also cradled me in her arms like a nursing mother.  Even when she delivered harder blows to my ass, it was somehow with a mothers' love.  Sweetly confusing. 
     Speaking for myself, I didn't feel less masculine.  Grabbing her hips, pressing her dildo deeper into me, I felt like I was exploring a passive side of my manhood.  Or maybe, I was accessing the feminine side of my manhood?  Aren't we all a composite of both masculine and feminine qualities?  What does it mean to be a man these days, anyways?
     Supposedly, allowing yourself to be fucked is a feminine thing to do.  I'm not so sure...I release a lot of aggression and visceral energy on the bottom.  I feel like a tribesman letting out a war cry.  Sometimes, I feel more manly receiving than on top when I'm being concerned and considerate.  I see why the yin and yang is a circle.

Being with her has me thinking a lot about gender:

What's the difference between being gender flexible and gender queer?
 Are gender roles mainly defined by "who's on top"?
What are some fun ways to play with my gender identity?
What kind of man am I?























The above photography is from Michael Angelo's:


This particular set
(Featuring the oddball beauty Jonathan Kroppman)
Really illustrates that masculinity can be pervasive
Even with make-up, he's still gritty and gamy

But does the masculine have a monopoly on edge?

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