“We’re taught to be disgusted by our fluids. Maybe it’s related to a fear of death. Body fluids are base material. Disneyland is so clean; hygiene is the religion of fascism. The body sack, the sack you don’t enter, it’s taboo to enter the sack. Fear of sex and the loss of control; visceral goo, waddle, waddle.” (Paul McCarthy, 2003)
When I told some friends that I was going to write about piss play this month, the reactions I received were a mix of laughter and disgust. Peeing during sexual encounters seems to hold more shock value than anything I’ve covered yet, and fair enough – if it’s not for you, don’t do it! There is something taboo about bringing a less-common form of fluid into the arena of sensuality.
1. prohibited or restricted by social custom.
You may have heard the phrase: “don’t yuck my yum.” The idea of a golden shower may seem inconceivable to some, but it should not be assumed that folks who enjoy it are partaking in something inherently nasty, unhealthy or even unusual.
For a kink like this to be psychologically considered a fetish-based “disorder,” the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders states that a person must “feel personal distress about their interest, not merely distress resulting from society’s disapproval,” and/or “have a sexual desire or behaviour that involves another person’s psychological distress.” In other words, unless your kink is causing yourself or someone else harm, it shouldn’t be labelled as a psychological issue.
“Why do you want it?” I asked the gorgeous man kneeling in the tub below me. “Because ... it’s wrong. It’s bad,” he said, smiling, waiting.
So where does this rhetoric of piss play being “bad” come from? I grew up in a very conservative Christian church culture, where sex was only allowed to exist under a narrow set of specific circumstances. It’s no secret that patriarchal religion has greatly influenced society’s view of sexuality.
Exploring my sexuality and intimacy outside of these tight constraints has been thrilling and healing. I am thankful to have connected with other folks who recognize the inherent tenderness in treating sex like an adventure to journey on together.
The reason I won’t divulge all the details about my personal experiences with piss play is the same reason that they are beautiful memories: it is one of the most intimate acts I’ve ever done with sexual partners. Sometimes there are giggles, other times a blindfold and a serious tone. But there must be a level of trust, comfort and understanding, even with a one-night stand. Personally, it is these aspects that attract me the most.
Being consensually and enthusiastically covered in the fluids of another is both an act of power and vulnerability. Paul McCarthy’s use of the term “visceral” is the perfect descriptor. It emphasizes how purely physical it is to share in the tangible release of another person. Our bodies leak in these moments, whether tears, sweat, cum or even urine. It requires our complete presence with one another, and how gorgeous it can be to hold this purely animalistic space with someone you care about.
Madeline Rae is a sex educator and writer living on Treaty 1 territory. She holds a BFA in performative sculpture and a BA in psychology, and she is pursuing schooling to specialize in sex therapy. Rae is trained in client-centred sex education, reproductive and sexual-health counselling and harm reduction. She works locally in both feminist healthcare and community support work.
Published in Volume 76, Number 05 of The Uniter (October 7, 2021)