Stone in My Bones

I describe myself as being Kinda Stoney.

I use that in relation to my physical body and in relation to my emotional self as well.

As a low-femme who likes cisfemale folk who express themselves or live along the masculine spectrum this can be a *little* challenging.

Baby? Mama likes to pitch. And in my experience… well… there are a lot of the people who I like who prefer and insist that I not go there. And I am always amazed when I am the recipient of the message that they “run the fuck”.

Now, because I’m a top and a dominant and Kinda Stoney it means that the bottoms and submissves and slaves I have played with or been associated with still provide *intense* resistence. It can be a struggle.

There is a unidirectional thing that a friend mentioned that really resonates with me. And let me say from experience that a femme who is Kinda Stoney can be a real shocker to those butch pitchers out there. What happens when to people who with Stone inclinations get together? Struggle.

And as a femme who as managed to maneover around more than one butch with a piece of stone lodged inside, let me say that the guilt, fear, shame, anger that can come out of smoothing away some of the edges of that stone or holding it or removing it (temporarily or “permanently”) is not always a price worth paying regardless of how much fun was had.

I have heard from many butches who have let me interact with their stoney bits that “[they] don’t do this kind of thing” or “haven’t done [this] in ____ years”. What the hell do I say to that? I feel honoured — I guess. I feel appreciative — I guess. And I feel like a burden is placed upon me. I haven’t figured out what the hell that is about.

I need to stop typing, drink coffee, and try to make sense later.