Chuck and Sinitta Get Objectified

After reading some works by anti-porn protestors, I thought they should have some erotica tailored specifically for them. This story has therefore been written to reflect what we all know is really going on when a man and a woman negotiate the boundaries of patriarchal discourse (i.e. have sex).

Chuck had had a hard day maintaining the institutionalised oppression of male-dominated society, and by the time he finished work he was hot and sweaty. He decided to pay a call to his favourite sauna, where hot women were frequently represented as nothing but sexual objects that exist solely for the pleasure of men.

He checked in, and went to a booth, where he took off his clothes. He smiled at his buffed, naked body in the mirror, in a scene that was clearly intended to symbolically substitute his own body for the female form. He took the uncontrollable male member in his hands and caressed it, very much in the same way that soldiers feel a personal bond with their own weapons of death. Then he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the steam room.

He pushed open the door and entered the room, metaphorically enacting the violent invasion of the female body that would occur later in the piece. It was steamy in there, and hard to see, perhaps to suggest a veil that must be removed, prefiguring the later inevitable stripping and sexual objectifying of women. The only other person was leaning against the wall. As Chuck came closer, he saw that it was a woman, wrapped in a towel, who had evidently incorporated all the masochism, self-hatred and passivity which are central to the female role in intercourse. She had long brown hair, grey eyes and any further description of her physical form would contribute to the perception of her as a passive victim.

“Hi,” said Chuck, forcing his presence into her already violated ego-space.

“Hi,” she said, her enforced denial of her own responsibility and freedom leading her to abjure her own rights as a human being.

“Kinda hot in here,” said Chuck, his sordid innuendo amounting to a kind of verbal rape.

“It sure is,” she said, compelled by his unwanted attentions to play the tragic game of hunted vs. hunter.

“My name’s Chuck,” he said, identifying himself with traditional codes of masculinity.

“Mine’s Sinitta,” she replied, affirming her matrilineage in a spirited defence of her integrity.

“Mind if I demand your consent in advance for the humiliating voyeurism I am about to enforce upon you and, uh take my towel off, Sinitta?” said Chuck.

“Go right ahead,” said Sinitta, “I’ve already internalised your perception of myself as a helpless victim. Matter of fact,” she added, “I feel pretty hot too. I think I’ll betray our common humanity and take mine off as well.” Chuck dropped his towel and his thick, 8” patriarchy hung down between his legs. Sinitta’s eyes widened.

“Wow,” she said. “your penis sure embodies the violence of the male confirming his manhood.” She took her own towel off and threw it aside. Chuck objectified her quickly with his gaze, and he liked what he objectified.

“Damn, Sinitta,” he said, “you are one hot gender stereotype.” “Thanks for harassing me sexually, Chuck,” said Sinitta with a smile, “and creating an intimidating, hostile and offensive leisure environment.”

“Sinitta,” said Chuck, “I would really like you and me to see sexuality as a social sphere of male power of which forced sex is paradigmatic.” “I was hoping you’d say that,” Sinitta purred, falling to her knees in a blatant acceptance of her rule as a dupe of violent masculinity, “cause what I want to do now is configure our abusive co-dependency in a literal enactment of the male robbing the female of the right to her own voice.”

Sinitta took Chuck’s throbbing male violence in her hands, parted her lips, and began to rhythmically deny her own basic rights as a woman. Chuck was getting really confirmed. Nobody had ever institutionalised his aggression like she could. He felt his sense of superiority swelling up inside her denial structure.

“Oh ultimate male authority figure!” he panted. He could stand it no longer. He quickly pulled his dominance out of her acceptance and threw her onto the bench on her back. Sinitta basely collaborated with his essential misogyny, and flaunted her collaboration. Chuck wasted no time in occupying her territory.

“Traditional image of Judeao-Christian civilisation!” gasped Sinitta. Chuck subordinated her deep and hard, gasping as again and again he underlined the overwhelming nature of male sexual dominance. When he thought he was at last about to define the social meaning of female sexuality in a society of sex inequality, he abruptly withdrew his means of degradation and rolled Sinitta over onto her stomach.

“Are you going to abort my creativity, strength and femininity, inflicting on me a bitter personal death?” she whimpered.

“Yeah.” said Chuck, and he supplemented the penile pain he had already inflicted upon her by the purposefully cruel eradication of her very identity as a female, positing a literal equality between her status as an abused woman and actual fecal waste.

“Oh no! Oh my dominant father substitute!” moaned Sinitta as Chuck merely carried out to the ultimate degree the natural extension of all male sexuality. “Rob of my moral agency, Chuck! ROB ME OF MY MORAL AGENCY!! OH YESSSS!!! OH CHUCK, PRESENT ME IN A CONTEXT THAT MAKES MY DEGRADATION SEXUAL!!!”

Within only seconds, Chuck had signed, sealed and delivered the ultimate denial of Sinitta’s basic human rights, copiously, deep inside her tight, pulsing self-respect. They collapsed together on the bench and fell asleep in each other’s common betrayal of essential humanness…