The archetype of the "Bottom" is one that is well known to anyone who's spent time in queer company, online or in meatspace. Submissive, feminine, either demure or bratty, someone to be tamed and dominated by an assertive and forceful top. This stereotype goes back centuries: in ancient Greece and Rome, what was important was not whether you were "gay" or "straight" (concepts that simply didn't exist in those cultures) but whether you preferred fucking or being fucked. To a lot of people, now as then, topping means "dominant" means "masculine"; being the passive partner means "submission" and "femininity".
And there are absolutely people who embody the archetypes described above: I know I've met my share of insatiable femboys begging to be cored out by a big, strong top. You, reader, may fit that description to the letter, and to be clear: that rocks. But there are as many ways to bottom as there are ways to be queer, and these are not restricted by gender or body type. Just because you're a slut with a tight, needy hole, or a sloppy party-bottom whose best friends know the exact depth and contours of your sigmoid curve, doesn't mean you have to take on a submissive role.
I could feel the raw power of her hole and the tunnels beyond.
I remember the first time I was properly dominated, as a top. I was a recent convert to the world of fist fucking, and eager to learn the ropes. Reconnecting with an old friend-with-benefits, the question was raised, and she offered to demonstrate her skills and experience. I still remember the racing of my pulse as she led me to her bedroom, which included shelves overflowing with toys: dildos, plugs, and an enormous sports bottle full of freshly-mixed lube. She measured me for the right fisting gloves, and guided me to empty what felt like a gallon of lube into her rectum. In the heat and sweat and noise that followed, she flaunted the results of several years' training. It wasn't just that she was loose: I could feel the raw power of her hole and the tunnels beyond. Every squeeze and tug of her anal muscles reinforced that puissant hunger as my fingers and knuckles and wrist squelched out of sight. Her moans weren't just of pleasure, but of triumph, my forearm her latest greedy conquest. I was guided deeper, shallower, and after finally disgorging my arm, she made sure I witnessed the gaping mess of her mare-worthy hole as it twitched, still hungry. I reached to the shelf, and soon enough an enormous equine toy disappeared up to the hilt in her guts, with my hands gripping the base of it. For a moment it felt like my entire body could be pulled in, too, swallowed completely by her ravenous ass.
The entire world was her throne, to be sat on and engulfed for her indulgence.
The playdate had escalated from initial touching to hole-eating and then to full anal excavation. And throughout, in the heady delirium of the scene, everything I did was to serve and worship her abyss. As a bottom, she was greedy and assertive. She understood that in her power dynamic of choice, the entire world was her throne, to be sat on and engulfed for her indulgence. And in the giddy daze of afterglow I knew that I had had a transformative experience - even though it was her hole that had been worked from a soft pucker into a meaty cavern. She had, literally, flexed on me.
Perhaps this over-indulgent storytelling can serve as an inspiration to some of you. Whatever your preferred roles in the bedroom (or playroom), remember that the assumptions we might have, about power, prowess, dominance or submission, are far from universal. I hope that each of you readers out there, at every point on the sexual spectrum, can have your assumptions shaken like mine. Or, if you're very lucky, maybe you could be the one to show a partner just how powerful a hole can be.
