What’s Your Story?

Is God behind all your sex play fantasies?

god fingersNote to the reader: Since none of us really know whether or not God(s) exists, let all who participate here simply suspend disbelief – if you have it – and settle in to the theory.

 
I recently got into an interesting conversation about God and sexual fetishes with someone who is planning to be a part of the What’s Your Story? series.

For those of you who don’t know the story behind What’s Your Story?, I’m working to put together a written interview series for the blog, consisting of different people sharing different pieces of themselves, their story.

whats your storySo far it has been shaping up wonderfully! Many kick-ass, dynamic people have contacted me to participate, and I am excited to work up questions and get some great conversations started. Let me know if you are interested as well: dmagnano at gmail dot com.

So back to the devout fetishist, going by code name Matt Schlapp, whom we’ll refer to as just Schlapp here. Schlapp has doubts about religion. I do too. Many of my doubts about religion surround hard-hitting questions about things like the story of the loaves and fishes, but Schlapp’s doubts are different. Schlapp’s doubts arise from his disbelief that before he came to love chastity cages and riding crops, he was seriously considering a life as a clergyman. He feels he is too naughty to have ever been a good match for any churchy opportunities. Listening to his incredulous feelings about his past, while flashes of Catholic archbishop orgy headlines hit me, my wheels start turning.

I offer, “Aren’t you created in God’s image?”

“I think so; that’s what it says.”

“Okay then. Isn’t there also the whole thing about how we are just God experiencing God through our very consciousness?”

“Yes.”

“Then, can you even be a naughty fetishist without God being the OG (Original Gangster) of fetishes first?”

We both started to consider this.

***

Let me illustrate: if my ultimate fetish fantasy is to have a male escort, wearing a rubber unicorn suit, tie me to a hitching post and lightly abrade and mentholate my nipples, is that really me as an independent person losing my mind in ecstasy, or is that my Creator experiencing the joy of their own desire for that, and I am merely the conduit?

Neither of us knows the answer, but I love the question: Do we feel, think, want, create, desire anything for which God hasn’t already first created the potential?

That’s the little teaser I am leaving you with for now. May it whet your appetite for the series. Peace, babes.

 

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