My curiosity about disabilities and disability devotees was piqued because of a story I read at Literotica. It doesn’t deserve to be called erotica; it barely deserves to be called a story. It was poorly written, vaguely insulting, and distinctly unfunny even though it was listed in the Humor and Satire Category. Here’s the link, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The narrator is a fine upstanding young man who has sex with a prostitute in a wheelchair. She is a triple amputee. That right there is a scenario for sidesplitting laughter, huh?
Anyway, I digress… This led me to my good friend, Google, and a search for “wheelchair fetish.” I should first make it clear that I am very open-minded about sex. Whatever floats your boat, with the biggest exception being pedophilia. I looked at the first few search results, and the more I saw, the more incredulous I became.
Ladies and gentlemen, it appears I am a fetish. I am agog at this bit of knowledge. There exists a small segment of the adult population whose kink is orthopedic medical equipment, specifically wheelchairs. Doesn’t matter if the person in it is truly disabled or not, it’s the wheelchair that inspires lust in the hearts of these folks. It might not even matter if there’s even a person in the wheelchair at all. The wheelchair as a sex toy. This is not news to me.
Just as there are many flavors of BDSM, there are sub-kinks that include leg braces, casts, crutches, amputees, and I’m sure a zillion more. I wonder if there is a hierarchy of kinks, and if there’s in-fighting among the various groups. I had no idea. I even found a website that sells fake leg braces. (God bless capitalism!) They look damn real to me. Kinda gave me the creeps to be honest.
I then learned of a psychological disorder called Body Identity Integrity Disorder (BIID). These folks – hold on, I want to get this right – who feel, as one BIID-er wrote, “from my earliest childhood memories, that I was in the wrong body, that I should be paralyzed.” They refer to themselves as “transabled”, and are dead serious about this. I have some thoughts on this subject, but it’ll get its own blog.
Here I was all thrilled that I was a fetish, so I hurried out to the living room and broke the news to B.
“Hey B! Guess what? I’m a fetish! I am the object of some weirdo’s wet dreams! Isn’t that cool? Wanna squeeze my tires, big boy?” Poor B. He has a wife who frequently confounds him with outrageous statements. No wonder he feels he has to muzzle her in public.
Wheelchair wankers of the world, your new queen has arrived.
* For those of you who have not read a lot of my blogs, I need to tell you that I am not, definitely not making fun of those who use wheelchairs or any other assistive devices. If I’m having fun at anyone’s expense, my intention is that it be my own. Still, if I’ve inadvertently offended anyone, I apologize.
