(And writing while all whacked out on vicodin should make this post the most perfectly normal one of all.)
So . . . I’m just going to go ahead and declare this Reverse Day.
This Isn’t Really Reverse Day
Okay, this probably isn’t really Reverse Day. I’m not even sure what ‘Reverse Day’ would be.
I know what Opposite Day is. Opposite Day is the (largely fictional) day where things mean the opposite of what they usually mean. To different degrees, depending on whether Opposite Day is being represented as something people are just doing for fun, or whether it’s an actual force of nature or magic altering the laws of physics. Saying ‘I’m hungry’ means I’m really full. Being in love with a person means that on Opposite Day I find I hate them.
[One of my all-time favorite examples of Opposite Day is located here.]
But Opposite Day is Opposite Day. (Now that I think about it, that statement, if actually made on Opposite Day, might cause a philosopher’s head to explode.) Reverse Day has to be different than that. But I’m really not sure what Reverse Day would be.
It’s not Reverse Day. I am hereby reversing my earlier declaration that this is Reverse Day.
So what, you ask, is it if it’s not Reverse Day. Hmm . . . uh, Wednesday, I think.
Why is this post titled “Reverse Day”? Because today we’re going to talk about reverse things.
The Origin of the Reverse Day Post
Like I said, I was actively hunting for a topic for today’s post. Looking over my list of topics, seeing if anything appealed to me. Then reading through my list of ideas that weren’t quite full-fledged topics, but might eventually grow into them. Topic seeds, I guess. I also looked over the schedule of what’s coming up for inspiration.
I’ve had a not-quite-a-post-topic-yet on my more unusual fetishes in mind ever since I started the blog. I don’t think it will ever be ready to write, because I don’t have that many fetishes that aren’t prominent somewhere among the kink and fetish community. But among the ones I do have, one of them has the word ‘reverse’ in it’s title. That stuck in my mind, and the next thing I knew, I started seeing the concept of ‘reverse’ here and there on my topic hunt. And ‘Reverse Day’ was born. You know, sort of.
For instance, I’m currently doing the biweekly “The Road to KinkFest” series (the second installment of which should go up on the blog tomorrow). It’s a discussion of my preparation for Oregon’s big annual BDSM event, and it takes the form of a countdown. And a countdown is a numerical reverse. 1-2-3-4-5? No, 5-4-3-2-1. (Actually, 57-43-29-15-1, but you get my point.)
Then I’ve got the Age Play series coming up soon. And if you define age play as role play where you take on the role of an age younger than your own, then really age play = age reversal.
I could go on like this. And on and on. Some legitimate examples, others that are probably a little forced, but still fit the pattern. But let’s move on.
I read comic books. (That admission will get me the ladies.) I read the good stuff that is an argument for the medium’s legitimacy. But I also read the super-hero stuff. I was raised on the super-hero stuff. So I’ve got a fair working knowledge of the basic super-hero mythologies.
DC Comics has a super-hero called The Flash. He’s fairly popular. Member of the Justice League, so he’s gotten a lot of on-screen cartoon time. He even had a one-season live action prime-time series (on CBS, if memory serves) back in the late-80s/early-90s.
One of his major villains has the same powers he does, but is evil. Wears the same costume, but with the color scheme reversed. And calls himself the Reverse-Flash.
Superman’s collection of enemies includes Bizarro, which is basically a Reverse-Superman. (Who talks like it’s Opposite Day. Says the opposite of what he means, in addition to possessing a three-year old’s speech patterns.)
This sort of ‘reverse’-version of character is common in superhero comics. You can find it in science-fiction, too.
To say nothing of the ubiquitous line of sci-fi technobabble dealing with the polarity of the neutron flow, and what should be done with it to solve the current problem.
I could go all wordplay on you guys again. Talk about song lyrics. Talk about the chorus. About the fact that it’s just like a normal verse, but repeated throughout the course of the song . . . making it a re-verse. But that seems awfully hinky, so I won’t do that. [Please don’t point out that I just did. Thanks.]
Word game + time travel concepts. One year (or any number of years to the date) after an event is the anniversary of that event. Reverse means going backwards. So one year prior to an event occurring is therefore that event’s ‘annireversary’. [I love these little word fusions, more accurately called ‘portmanteau’.]
(Actually, it doesn’t even need to be a time travel incident to get to an annireversary. A long engagement where you’ve got the date for the wedding locked in, and a couple can celebrate their wedding annireversary a year before their actual wedding.)
There’s the concept of reverse-engineering, which is taking a piece of technology apart to learn how it works, ending in the creation of a blueprint. As opposed taking concepts and using them to construct a blueprint to build a piece of technology.
You can get a reverse telephone directory, where you look up a phone number to find a person’s name.
Reversal is everywhere.
But that’s all just general purpose ‘reverse’. And this is (theoretically, at least) a sex blog. So what we need here are sexual reverses . . .
Women are sexy. Especially without clothing. Especially from the ankles on down. I’ve mentioned having a foot fetish several times already here in the blog (without ever actually writing a post about it – huh. Gotta get on that one of these next days.) Bare toes, bare soles . . . yes, please.
Naked means not wearing anything, doesn’t it? I mean, that’s how it’s always been explained to me. But I’ve seen pictures of women described as ‘naked’ who were wearing shoes and stockings. Usually ‘sexy shoes’ and the kind of stockings that go with them.
Now, while the average male and the shoe fetishist might think this is all well and good, I’ve got problems accepting that as naked. I’ve heard people (not my people – not the foot fetishists) say that it’s even better than naked. All that skin . . . tits, pussy . . . AND sexy shoes? They see this, and think, ‘Jackpot!’.
Okay, fine. America’s a democracy, so I suppose that with everyone thinking that a woman can wear a pair of sexy shoes and still be considered naked, then I guess I’ll have to (grudgingly) accept that, and be consoled by the fact that there are still women in photographs and DVDs who run around without clothing OR footwear.
But ‘sexy shoes’ aren’t the point of this little sub-topic. Sneakers are. Sneakers, tennis shoes, trainers, whatever you want to call them. I’m not a shoe fetishist. Not at all. A (dressed) woman wearing sneakers does no more or less for me than a women in pumps, stiletto heels, or Mary Janes.
I like images of naked women. But if I’m in a fetish mood, then a barefoot woman is a nice find. Fully dressed from the ankles on up. Naked from the ankles on down. Sexy bare feet peeking out the end of pant legs. Or capping long legs that issue forth from underneath skirts.
Really, in a fetish mood, it doesn’t matter to me what she’s wearing. Sexy clothes? Fine. Jeans and a t-shirt? Just as fine. As long as I can see her bare feet, I’m happy.
I started using the term ‘reverse barefoot’ back when my future brother-in-law still had internet access, and would occasionally download multi-gig packs of amateur nude photos for me. You sift through enough of those, and you can end up with quite a little stack of images representing women wearing nothing but socks and tennis shoes.
If barefoot is fully dressed except for shoes and socks, then wearing nothing but shoes and socks . . . well, you get the idea. Reverse barefoot. Naked except for ‘sexy shoes’ and stockings isn’t reverse barefoot, because everyone seems to still call that ‘naked’. This is something different.
Now, like I said . . . I’ve got a thing for feet. I don’t have a thing for shoes. But after my built-up annoyance at all of those ‘naked’ women wearing pumps and whatnot, seeing a woman in nothing but a pair of Nikes and tube socks did something for me. Something I can’t quite explain. Reverse barefoot has now become a little sub-fetish of mine.
‘Naked’ (but not barefoot) is “Hey, look at me! You can see my tits! My pussy! My ass! My bare back! You can see all of me – plus, I’ve enhanced the appeal of my feet by wearing sexy shoes!” That’s what the statement is. It’s incorrect, because her feet aren’t so much enhanced by the shoes as they are obscured, but she’s making an effort. Her heart is in the right place, even if her feet aren’t.
Reverse barefoot, on the other hand . . . reverse barefoot is, “Yeah, you can see my tits, my pussy, my ass, my flat stomach, the curve of my back, etc. You can see everything . . . except what you really want to see. Isn’t that right, fetish boy? Drool over my tits all you want. I’m not taking off my shoes for you. I know what it is that you’re really after, and I do have some modesty, after all.”
Reverse barefoot is a tease. A taunt. ‘Naked’ (but not barefoot) is just a woman who tried to strip nude and somehow missed.
On the occasions in the past when CJ would come over with the intention of letting me clumsily fumble around with her genitalia, I could never get her naked fast enough. That impatience robbed me of ever witnessing her performing the classic striptease.
(I’ve never actually seen an in-person striptease. On my one single trip to a strip club back in 2007, the girls started out most of the way naked. And by time the music was thumping, the strobe lights were flashing, and they were starting to expose themselves fully, I was too busy having a seizure to notice. Stupid lights and music.)
I would, however, watch CJ get dressed when it was time for us to part company once again. Once she’d found all of the clothing that I’d torn off of her and flung in unplanned directions, I’d watch as her lovely naked body would slowly disappear, devoured by panties . . . bra . . . tights . . . skirt . . . blouse . . . shoes . . .
Admittedly, her getting dressed was simply a utilitarian function. She wasn’t getting dressed FOR me. She wasn’t trying to arouse me. (Actually, I’m sure she was hoping that my arousal level stayed well down until after she was gone by that point in the encounter.)
But nevertheless, I watched. (When I crossdressed for Darklady’s Halloween party last year, my sister watched as I put my stockings on with no coaching from her. She then said, “I’m NOT going to ask why you know how to do that.” I knew how to do it because I had watched CJ do it.) Watching CJ get dressed was my first ever encounter with a real live naked woman putting clothing on. And while it was just her putting clothing on, I could see the potential for more.
I could see how a woman could go from naked to fully dressed in a way that had the effect of a reverse striptease. Physically artistic. Designed to arouse.
I dreamt it once. It wasn’t CJ – it was one of a couple of nameless women I’ve never met that used to make recurring appearances in my dreams. But I was laying in her bed in the early hours of the morning, and she slid out quietly to get dressed for the day. She was just starting to get dressed, when she realized that I was awake. So she dressed as a performance for me.
It was a dream, so I don’t remember it clearly, but I know that the ‘me’ in the dream got incredibly turned on watching her performance.
Later that day, I wrote a piece of poetry about it which I never printed out, and which subsequently died in a hard drive crash.
But it’s always an idea I wanted to do something with. There’s probably an erotic short story in it somewhere. Or a reverse striptease scene in a larger erotic work. I don’t know yet. One day, I’ll figure it out.
Normal bondage is, “Struggle all you want – I’ve tied you up tight, you can’t get away.”
But there are many different forms of bondage. Including those that have the same end result of the one mentioned above, but go about it completely differently: “You’re not allowed to struggle – because you’re not actually restrained . . . but if you ‘get away’, you’ll be punished.”
The reverse of normal bondage. I’ve seen this referred to as mental bondage. Being ordered to hold a position as if bound in it. To me, that seems like Hell. Perfectly still while muscles are cramping. Restrained by imaginary bonds. At least with real cuffs and rope and duct tape and whatnot you can relax into your binding. But with reverse bondage, you usually are the strong bonds, in addition to the one bound by them.
Sometimes it’s just ‘hold this position’. Other times there are other tools in play. Not everybody can afford a steel bondage cage, but who among us can’t pick up a second-hand mime cage somewhere? It’s a freaking invisible, intangible box! But she can’t leave it’s boundaries once she’s ‘locked’ inside.
Or my personal favorite piece of reverse bondage equipment. Ten cents. Not a dime, but ten pennies. Each one to be held flat against the wall by one of your sub’s eight fingers and two thumbs. And if one of them drops . . . oh, that’s not good. Not for the sub, anyway.
I can’t remember how we got on the topic, but a couple of weeks ago Zorch and I were talking about F-to-M transsexuals. And when I mentioned someone I knew of who had had her breasts surgically removed as part of the transition, Zorch referred to that person as a Male-she.
Which, I had to argue, because my OCD says that I’m right and Zorch is wrong in matters of terminology, and I’ve been privately referring to that person as a Reverse Shemale.
Tits and a dick? Shemale. So flat chest and a pussy must be reverse shemale.
Actually, I always try to argue the case that the matching term would be Hefemale, but it’s actually a moot point, because ‘Shemale’ is largely a pornography term that most actual transgendered people are said to consider a slur or epithet. And I haven’t really seen a call for the reverse shemale in porn yet. (Note my use of the word ‘yet’ there. Porn will get to it. Porn eventually gets to everything.)
Reverse Penis (and Other Matters of Gender Reversal)
This is probably the first time that I’ve ever referred to the end result of neovaginoplasty as a ‘reverse penis’. It’s not a term I plan to make a habit of using, but it’s actually an accurate description of what gets done. As the term ‘penile inversion technique’ implies, they basically scrape out most of the interior ‘meat’ of the penis, and turn it inside out, pushing it up inside the body. Using the penis nerves as your new vagina nerves. Material from the head of the penis is repurposed as a clitoris.
And with that lovely imagery threatening to invade my brain, let’s move on, shall we?
You can find all sorts of place to stick ‘reverse’ labels within the transgender community. Although I doubt that those labels would be very properly received. Which I can understand, and agree with. But I’d be remiss in this little intellectual exercise if I didn’t point out that gender dysphoria and other similar realizations of being a different gender in matters of mind, spirit, and soul than that of body is the kind of place where you could use terms like ‘reverse male’, and ‘reverse female’.
(Which also leads me to ask: What would a reverse-hermaphrodite be? Somebody with NO sexual characteristics? I sometimes ponder weird things.)
The reverse cumshot. Also known as retrograde ejaculation. This is one of those things that sends a shiver down my spine and makes me say, “Yeesh!”
(Yeah, I’m a real bright guy. It’s late at night, I’m tired, and my head is killing me. So of course, I start talking about neovaginoplasty and retrograde ejaculation. When I go to use the bathroom before going to bed tonight, I’m going to discover that my penis has collapsed – telescope-like – into nothingness out of a mixture of fear and squeamishness.)
The typical cause of retrograde ejaculation is a faulty sphincter in the urinary bladder. What this does is – at the moment of ejaculation – force the semen into the bladder instead of out the urethra and onto her face. (Sorry, that’s where porn taught me semen went. Having a hard time unlearning that one.)
Eventually, the semen does exit the body via the urethra . . . it gets peed out with the urine it ends up swimming around in.
I’ve never heard anything about it being painful, or even uncomfortable. But the notion that it might someday happen to me just seriously creeps me the fuck out.
Plus, after you cum, your female partner may well accuse you of having faked your male orgasm. Which is just the reverse of how these accusations normally go.
All right. Enough of all of this ‘reverse’ nonsense.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled direction.