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Posted January 14, 2013 by in LOVE-LIFE
 
 

Why do lesbians on the internet want to do weird things to me?

BY FONDANT FANCY

A first person account of trauma on the internet

I’m keeping tally of how many women on internet dating sites want me to piss on them. When I hit double figures, I’m going to get one of those teardrop prison tattoos. In yellow.

My first golden shower message was from a woman on GaydarGirls. She wanted us to wee on each other simultaneously – like a fountain from Homebase shaped like two dolphins spraying one another through their blowholes. She even attached a picture of her white knicker-clad crotch, mid-piss.

a dolphin fountain

I politely declined. It’s not that I’m against kinky sex – this just seemed messy.

But then came a steady trickle of similar messages from other girls. So I began to ask around. Was anyone else in my circle of lesbian friends getting these kinds of come-ons? They weren’t. I pored over my Gaydar profile looking for whatever it was that implied, “I’d dearly like you to urinate on me.”  Was  “I enjoy cooking” code for “Piss on my tits, please”?

I still haven’t worked it out. But it goes beyond that. As well as the messages from urophiles, here are some things I’ve been in-boxed:

- Fannies: I’ve had snizz snaps aplenty sent my way. But one in particular sticks in my mind. There was something about this cunt that said, “I mean business.” Maybe it was the full-on 70s bush that looked like an Amish guy’s face.

- Betasseled nipples: These pics belong almost entirely to middle-aged women with husbands. I’ve never had the heart to tell them that I’m not turned on by breasts that look like they’ve just graduated.

- Something that looked like a scrotum: Never managed to work out what this was. My best guesses were “flabby perineum” or “outer-labia goiter”.

But the unidentifiable flesh and urine-fiends paled into insignificance when I got another message that hit a whole new level of pervedom. I’m talking about the Holy Grail of internet kink: cannibalism.

My standard response to girls who ask to eat me is, “Yes please.” This next message was from a woman who wanted to do exactly that… with ketchup. I mean – proper German guys in round, wire-rimmed, Nazi war criminal glasses shit.

In the lesbian world, you need to be fairly graphic when specifying actual consumption of flesh over cunnilingus. Cannibal Cassie, as I like to call her, did so by suggesting that I play Little Red Riding Hood to her Big Bad Wolf. Literally. I couldn’t help but appreciate the macabre, Brothers Grimm edge to her proposition. Here was a woman in actual possession of a red hooded cloak and a wolf mask, ready to sauté my severed tit.

I never replied to Cannibal Cassie’s message, but I wish I had. It may have shed some light on what it is about internet-me that screams, “Do unpleasant things to my body.” I’ve come to accept that this may remain a mystery. Whatever it is, I’ll admit I’m much happier being messaged by girls with scatological fetishes or a taste for clit au vin than ones who describe themselves as “bubbly”.

 

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