Abstract
Despite the direct connection between anal sex and pleasure, the majority of academic literature frames anal sex in terms of homophobia and/or disease. In the large body of literature on anal sex, only two academic articles have been published on anoreceptive heterosexual males (ARHMs), despite evidence of this type of sexuality dating back to Ancient Egypt and Greece. A review of the literature suggests that the lack of empirical research on ARHMs is due to compulsory heteronormativity, which can instill sexual shame in those with nonconforming sexual preferences. Some ARHMs are BDSM-oriented, and given that BDSM behavior and identity are also stigmatized, BDSM-oriented ARHMs have an additional concealable status that is subject to prejudice. Skills such as higher level communication and self-reflection often inform BDSM interactions and relationship structures, therefore, BDSM-oriented ARHMs may have more opportunity to develop skills to offset shame and stigma, and may take pride as well as pleasure in subverting traditionally heteronormative anoreception roles.
Throughout history, the most memorable published depictions of BDSM—de Sade’s (1785/1966) 120 Days of Sodom, von Sacher-Masoch’s (1870) Venus in Furs, Réage’s (1954) The Story of O, and James’ (2011) Fifty Shades of Grey—tend to be controversial if not reductive, dysfunctional, and/or nonconsensual (and therefore not actually BDSM). In works such as these, the focal point tends to overemphasize presumed danger and darkness. However, in the past two decades, sexuality, psychology, and sociology researchers have increasingly reported the positive relational and therapeutic benefits of engaging in BDSM, including heightened intimacy, strengthened partner bonding, increased well-being and self-acceptance, and reduced stress (e.g., Khan, 2015; Lee et al., 2016; Lindemann, 2011; Newmahr, 2011; Pitagora, 2017; Weiss, 2011; Yost, 2010). There has also been an emphasis in the literature on the pursuit of pleasure as the foundation of and motivation for BDSM interactions (Beckmann, 2009; Newmahr, 2011; Ortmann & Sprott, 2013; Weiss, 2006).
There is an interesting overlap in the narratives around BDSM and receptive anal sex, particularly as it pertains to heterosexual males who are anally receptive (i.e., anoreceptive heterosexual males, or ARHMs 1 ). In the early work on BDSM aforementioned, de Sade made specific reference to ARHM behavior in describing “sodomites” who defined “their sexual interests not so much by the gender of their sexual partners but by the orifices being used” (as cited in Poster, 2006, p. 246). The way BDSM participants and ARHMs have historically been perceived by the mainstream is strikingly similar, in the tendency to pathologize and demonize those who engage in these sexual behaviors. In another way analogous to BDSM, experts have asserted that anal sex is predominantly about pleasure (Carter, Henry-Moss, Hock-Long, Bergdall, & Andes, 2010; Eskridge, 2008; Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Hite, 1981; Kippax & Smith, 2001; Komisaruka & Whipple, 2011; Morin, 2010). There are sometimes logistical practicalities to engaging in anal sex; for example, as a means of birth control, or when the desire for penetrative sex is prioritized over the desire to penetrate a vagina specifically. There are also psychosexual motivations for engaging in anal sex, such as choosing anal sex as a way to enforce power and vulnerability, or the drive toward taboo, such as in BDSM-oriented power dynamics. These reasons for choosing to engage in anal sex are valid and common, yet perhaps ancillary to the primary focus of pleasure-seeking (Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Morin, 2010).
Despite a direct connection between anal sex and pleasure, the majority of academic literature on anal sex frames the topic in terms of homophobia and/or disease (e.g., Brody & Weiss, 2011; Halperin, 1999; Hollows, 2007; Leichliter, 2008; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; McBride & Reece, 2008). This pathologizing framework around anal sexuality leads to a stifling of disclosure among ARHMs, given that they may not want to be misidentified by others as nonstraight and consequently be subjected to prejudice and discrimination (Bosson et al., 2005). In the large body of literature on anal sex, only two academic articles have been published on the topic of straight men who enjoy anoreceptive sex: a needs assessment with the goal of filling this gap in sexuality education (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012); and an empirical study on the anoreceptive practices of straight men (J. Branfman, Stiritz, & Anderson, 2017).
Though all genders and sexualities have the potential to experience pleasure during anal sex, a review of the literature suggests that pervasive heterosexism contributes to stigmatization of individuals with nonconforming sexual interests and behaviors (Ayres & Leudeman, 2013; Bosson, Prewitt-Freilino, & Taylor, 2005; B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; Crane & Crane-Seeber, 2003; Heasley, 2005; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; Melby, 2007), such as ARHMs. Recent public discourse on ARHMs has been on the rise (Aguilar, 2017; Ayres & Leudeman, 2013; Clark-Fory, 2011; Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Hollows, 2007; Nault, 2010; Savage, 2001), and research suggests an increase in heterosexual anal sex among all genders in the past two decades (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; Brody & Weiss, 2011; Leichliter, 2008; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; McBride & Reece, 2008; Mosher, Chandra, & Jones, 2005). Also within the past two decades, there has been only one published study analyzing attitudes around the “men’s anal taboo” (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012, p. 405), and no empirical research investigating the psychosocial experiences of ARHMs (Hollows, 2007; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010). This is an important gap in research to fill, as the literature suggests that societal cues around enforcing heteronormativity might lead to a stifling of sexual expression and psychological difficulties related to internalized sociocultural stigma (Bosson et al., 2005; B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; Heasley, 2005; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010).
There is a large body of work on the subject of anal sex, though research tends to focus on women and nonstraight men as receptive partners, and pathologizes receptive anal sex (e.g., Ayres & Leudeman, 2013; Johnson, 2004; Lehmiller, 2013; Yarber & Sayad, 2013). Male-receptive anal sex has been referred to in nonacademic literature since prior to the 1700s (Poster, 2006), but reference to heterosexual anal sex in the literature is much less abundant, and is often pathologizing in its association of the behavior with sexual dysfunction and sexually transmitted infections (e.g., Brody & Weiss, 2011; Halperin, 1999; Hollows, 2007; Kaestle & Halpern, 2007; Leichliter, 2008; Leichliter, Chandra, Liddon, Fenton, & Aral, 2007; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; McBride & Reece, 2008). Research also tends to be biased due to assumptions made about heterosexual males exclusively being the insertive partner (e.g., Halperin, 1999; Herbenick et al., 2010a, 2010b; Hollows, 2007; Kaestle & Halpern, 2007; Lane, Pettifor, Pascoe, Fiamma, & Rees, 2006; Leichliter et al., 2007; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; Yarber & Sayad, 2013), and often culls outliers who do not conform to the sexual orientation binary, in effect negating their existence and overestimating the occurrence of heteronormative sexual behavior (e.g., Dahlhamer, Galinsky, Joestl, & Ward, 2014).
Despite the invisibility of ARHMs in academic literature and societal reinforcement of receptive anal sex as taboo, there is a great deal of awareness about the potential for pleasure via prostate massage, as indicated by a Google search in July of 2012 for “male g spot” that produced over five million results (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012). Because male-receptive anal sex remains taboo outside of the gay and openly sex-positive communities (and sometimes within those communities as well), many may never think to explore this potential for sexual pleasure (J. Branfman et al., 2017; Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Hardy, 2010). The stigma engendered by the ARHM taboo serves to reinforce traditional heterosexist gender roles and legitimize nonconsensual power imbalances (J. Branfman et al., 2017; B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012).
Language tends to describe certain sexual acts in value-laden terms that exclude the existence of a particular sex act (e.g., anoreceptive sex) by a particular type of individual (e.g., heterosexual males), so the drive to create new terminology to describe ARHM sexual behavior is understandable (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012). While the coining of this new word is understandable, it seems unnecessary, and perhaps problematic (Aguilar, 2017). Such an example is in the coining of the term “pegging” to describe the anal penetration of a male by a female wearing a strap-on dildo (Aguilar, 2017; Savage, 2001). Deeper reflection questions the need to create a cognitive separation between ARHMs and anoreceptive females or homosexual males, which may be indicative of internalized heterosexism and a desire to dissociate from gender role violating acts (Aguilar, 2017; Ayres & Leudeman, 2013; B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; O’Rourke, 2005; Seidman, Fisher, & Meeks, 2011).
As argued in the only published empirical study analyzing heterosexual male anoreceptive pleasure, the creation of new language related to taboo behaviors might also help challenge restrictive gender and sexuality norms, therefore the authors coined the word “prostage” to describe male anoreceptive sexuality (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012). While the intention behind the creation of the word is to avoid the stigma that the phrase “anal sex” engenders, it in effect reinforces stigma in the same way as “pegging” by invoking a gendered word. Furthermore, because not everyone recognizes that the word is derived from prostate, its use would be most accessible to those with socioeconomic and/or academic privilege, a common occurrence in empirical literature infused with educational, specialized, and/or disciplinary jargon (Sword, 2012). Finally, the use of this gendered word can also be understood as a form of passing privilege. When words are created for specific genders, they are by definition exclusive of other genders. For example, it is possible that an anoreceptive man who was assigned-female-at-birth could be perceived as noncisgender-passing, and therefore considered ineligible to use the word “pegging.”
The authors also conflate “prostage” with anal sex, which is misleading in that pleasure from anal sex is not only derived from stimulation of the prostate but also of the nerve endings surrounding the anus, pelvic musculature, as well as from a wide range of psychological and emotional processes (Morin, 2010). An increase in awareness and reduction of stigma around male-receptive anal sex would arguably render gendered terminology moot. Furthermore, terms to describe specific anal sex behaviors may be unnecessary, as indicated by the use of the term “anal play” (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; Nault, 2010) and simply the word “anal” (“Anal,” n.d.; Breslaw, 2014; Rubin, 2007) as all-encompassing terms currently used in popular discourse, both in and out of the BDSM community.
Despite the studies aforementioned noting an increase in prevalence of anal sexuality in general, there has been no mention in social science literature of ARHM prevalence. Despite the fact that ARHMs exist, there is a tendency to avoid discussion of this type of sexual behavior, which results in less public awareness around it (J. Branfman et al., 2017; Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Hollows, 2007; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010). Because of the taboo nature of anal sexuality and the tendency to downplay its existence, researchers underestimate the prevalence of those who engage in anal sex, especially ARHMs (Halperin, 1999; Hardy, 2010; McBride & Fortenberry, 2010). The omission of ARHMs from research promotes the assumption that females or gay males exclusively take the receptive role, and that heterosexual males are exclusively insertive participants; this not only reinforces stereotypical gender role norms and sexual stereotypes, but excludes a segment of the population from study, thereby distorting results and providing inaccurate information (McBride & Fortenberry, 2010).
ARHMs are similar to some gender and sexual minority groups in that they have a concealable stigmatized identity, and they can easily reap the benefits of remaining closeted (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; Herek, 2007). However, the literature on perceived stigma and minority stress among those who are gender nonconforming in behavior or live with a concealable stigmatized identity suggests that remaining closeted can have deleterious social and mental health effects, such as depression, isolation, and detachment from one’s identity (Horowitz & Newcomb, 2001; Li, Pollitt, & Russell, 2015; Pachankis, 2007; Quinn & Chaudoir, 2009; Vrangalova & Savin-Williams, 2014). ARHMs may not want to disclose their sexual interests and behaviors because they could be misidentified by others as nonstraight, and may be subject to associated prejudice and discrimination (Bosson et al., 2005).
As noted above, some ARHMs are BDSM-oriented, adding an additional status or sexual preference that is subject to prejudice and discrimination. BDSM-oriented individuals are demographically similar to non-BDSM-oriented individuals (Connolly, 2006; Pitagora, 2013; Weinberg, Williams, & Moser, 1984); therefore, they may be perceived by those outside the communities as non-BDSM-oriented, and may suffer effects associated with having a concealable stigmatized identity (Quinn & Chaudoir, 2009). ARHMs and BDSM-oriented ARHMs may experience anticipated stigma related to the fear that atypical sexual interests will be revealed, and cultural stigma associated with the risk of social devaluation if atypical sexual interests are revealed (Quinn & Chaudoir, 2009). Experiencing stigma has been found to contribute to increased risk of depression, anxiety, and physical symptoms (British Psychological Society, 2012; Quinn & Chaudoir, 2009).
That an ARHM’s preference for a particular sexual behavior may call into question his sexual orientation or gender identity is based in homophobia and heterosexism (J. Branfman et al., 2017; Heasley, 2005), which may cause him to avoid this aspect of his sexual desire (Glickman & Emirzian, 2013). The edict of normative heterosexuality has little tolerance for heterosexual diversity, and Western culture does not provide much room for straight males who choose not to penetrate or straight females who choose not to be penetrated (McBride & Fortenberry, 2010; O’Rourke, 2005). Conversely, BDSM subculture provides ample room for atypical expressions of sexuality, including anoreceptive sex (Hollows, 2007; Kippax & Smith, 2001; Moser & Kleinplatz, 2007; Rye & Meaney, 2007; Weiss, 2011). Many BDSM-oriented people, by virtue of their lifestyle and through influence of the BDSM community, tend to be aware of and in the process of strengthening their skills around transparency, communication, negotiation, conflict resolution, and self-awareness (Pitagora, 2016; Taormino, 2008). Williams (2006) suggests that transparent communication and self-awareness around desires can be said to facilitate the inclusiveness and acceptance of ARHM sexuality within the BDSM community. In turn, positive reflected appraisals and validation from peers and community may result in higher levels of sexual pride than may be found in non-BDSM-oriented people.
Anal sex (whether receptive or insertive) is a psychosexual act that can be intensely physically pleasurable with a certain amount of care—conversation, negotiation, and explicit consent are required to achieve maximum pleasure and safety (Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Morin, 2010). Receptive anal sex is a psychosexual act in that it is enhanced by an openness to the experience, trust of the insertive partner, an associated sense of arousal, and the ability to overcome the stereotypical taboo associated with pleasurable physical sensations from stimulation of the anus and prostate (Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Hardy, 2010; Morin, 2010). It is possible that the mind-set needed to engage in anoreceptive sex might engender increased empathy in heterosexual males (C. Glickman, personal communication, June 16, 2017). No less intriguing, Guss (2010) suggests that anal sex might be a means of self-actualization, and that it might have the potential to evoke transformative states of consciousness or new affect states in ARHMs.
Heteronormative Barriers to ARHM Sexuality
Anal eroticism is situated on a fault line that threatens (or promises) to deconstruct the normative concepts of phallocentrism and masculinity (Guss, 2010). Dean (2014) describes the construct of masculinity as a collection of gendered practices that often refer to men and male-bodied people, but can also refer to other genders and nonmale-bodied people. Beasley (2015) notes that heteromasculinity is typically overdetermined as a source of domination, and overlooked as a site for social change.
The predominant and prevailing construct of masculinity is framed within the construct of heteronormativity, and often essentializes and supports the male/female binary to the exclusion of all other sex and gender differences (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005). The constructs of phallocentrism, hegemonic masculinity, and heteronormativity place men in the compulsory position of being sexually assertive, directive, and initiating sexual interactions (Fahs, Swank, & Clevenger, 2015). For example, in a 2013 study of the attitudes of heterosexual men toward gay men who engage in a variety of sexual behaviors, Ayres and Leudeman (2013) found that participants expected and preferred men to be insertive, regardless of sexual orientation. These findings align with social psychology research suggesting that people generally have more positive attitudes toward homosexual men that pass as heterosexual than gender-nonconforming homosexual men (Blashill & Powlishta, 2012). While Ayres and Leudeman’s (2013) findings about sexual acts are not to be conflated with Blashill and Powlishta’s (2012) findings about sexual expression, both studies analyzed the sexualization of behaviors through their participants’ gaze, and both studies favored men that sexually acted or expressed themselves in ways that were thought of as heteronormative.
Stigma Pervades Positional Preference
However, infrequent and imprecise reports in the literature on positional preference (i.e., an individual’s preference to be the insertive or receptive partner) entirely focus on the gay male population, and indicate that tops are the smallest group at around 20%; bottoms range from 26% to 35%; and versatiles (i.e., those who are receptive or insertive) from 47% to 54% (as cited in Ayres & Leudeman, 2013). There are no reports on positional preference in the heterosexual population, however, as sexuality surveys universally omit such information from their reports (e.g., Dodge et al., 2010; Chandra, Mosher, Copen, & Sionean, 2011; Herbenick et al., 2010a; Herbenick et al., 2010b; Herbenick et al., 2017; Leichliter et al., 2007; Mosher et al., 2005; Reece et al., 2010; Schick et al., 2010; Štulhofer, & Ajduković, 2011; Ward, Dahlhamer, Galinsky, & Joestl, 2014). An ostensibly nationally representative study 2 on sexual health among Black and Hispanic men and women upheld the heteronormative assumption of women as being exclusively receptive, and men as insertive and receptive, but only receptive when having sex with men; when they were having sex with women they were only considered to be insertive (Dodge et al., 2010). Likewise, in a national survey of sexual behavior in the United States between 2006 and 2008, the authors specified that males were exclusively insertive, unless receptive with another male, and their tables report “anal sex with opposite sex” but they do not include ARHMs (Chandra et al., 2011).
The most recent National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior (NSSHB) publication stated that the survey focuses on a broad range of sexual behaviors, including anal sex and the use of sex toys (Herbenick et al., 2017, p. 2). While this is arguably the case, some of the articles Herbenick coauthored contained a column and row for such information in a table, though the spaces for insertive women or ARHMs were left empty (e.g., Herbenick et al., 2010a; Herbenick et al., 2017). Herbenick, a coauthor on multiple NSSHB articles, noted that surveys “are quite expensive and need to be kept relatively short in order to maximize response rate and minimize participant burden,” and that “[o]ne simply cannot ask everything one wants to in any given study” (D. Herbenick, personal communication, June 20, 2017). While the NSSHB surveys are a valuable contribution to a body of literature sorely lacking in representative sexuality research, it seems a heteronormativity-reinforcing oversight not to have asked the same question to men as they had to women in order to include the data they had created space for, but explicitly censored without providing rationale for the omission. It also seems that the refusal to collect data related to nonheteronormative practices may be due to the researchers’ biases, which further inculcates stigma.
Such examples from the literature support the ongoing phallocentric heteronormative misconceptions of women as exclusively receptive and heterosexual males as exclusively insertive. When most people think of the stereotypical heterosexual male, they would tend to imagine him as being exclusively a penetrator due to the cultural importance placed on his having a penis (Ayres & Leudeman, 2013). Despite that the desire to conform to socially enforced gender roles can make some sexual practices more appealing and others less, conventional penetrative roles have long been and continue to be challenged (Ayres & Leudeman, 2013). Even the phrase “role reversal” indicates a reliance on the gender binary to explain sexual behaviors, likely because gender stereotypes are a means of organizing expectations of others’ behavior (Ayres & Leudeman, 2013). In other words, the phrase “role reversal” implies that because certain roles are “normal,” all other roles are “abnormal” and only understandable in juxtaposition to the “normal” roles. Transgressions against these norms can engender anger or anxiety, as the deconstruction of someone else’s gender and sexuality implies the deconstruction of everyone’s gender and sexuality, and perhaps of all binary constructs (Ayres & Leudeman, 2013). The deconstruction of what many build their own identities and worldviews on could lead to dysregulation or a sense of instability, as heteronormativity provides a protective structure via privilege (Anderson & McCormack, 2016).
Kippax and Smith (2001) suggest that the physical vulnerability associated with anoreception does not necessarily correlate with a lack of potential for power in the interaction; while the former may often be accurate, the latter is a social construction that can be reframed. In other words, physical vulnerability does not have to equate to a devaluing of social or interpersonal power. There is nothing inherently passive about assuming the receptive, bottom, or submissive role (Dowsett, Williams, Ventuneac, & Carballo-Diéguez, 2008; Guss, 2010). In anoreception, in order for the interaction to be pleasurable, there are actions taken, including giving consent; becoming psychologically and physically ready; and maintaining psychological and physical readiness to, openness to, and enjoyment of the experience (Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Guss, 2010; Morin, 2010). While the active (i.e., penetrative) role is often quite active (i.e., energetic), there can also be times when the person wielding the object of penetration is more passive than the person receiving penetration; for example, when the person being penetrated is on top of the other person, and in full control of the action of penetration (Dowsett et al., 2008; Fejes, 2002; Glickman & Emirzian, 2013; Guss, 2010; Hennen, 2008; Morin, 2010).
Glickman, a sex coach and published expert on anal sexuality, pointed out the degree of top privilege that some men have, or loss of status or power in terms of masculinity that some bottoms or versatile men experience due to their positional preference (C. Glickman, personal communication, June 13, 2017). The concept of power can be defined in a variety of ways, however, depending on context and perspective. Foucault (1983) pointed out the difference between power dynamics that were consensual and those that were resisted (as cited in Kippax & Smith, 2001). In relation to the latter, Foucault described governmental and other social (e.g., family, religious, and mental health) systems’ regulation and punishment as a means of attempting to constrain and control certain desires such as anal sexuality (as cited in Guss, 2010).
The fallacy that the receptive partner is always understood to be disempowered and a victim, while the insertive partner is empowered and the victor is (not coincidentally) aligned with phallocentrism and patriarchy (Ayres & Leudeman, 2013; Kippax & Smith, 2001). For some, power is a source of pleasure in sexual interactions, both on the insertive and receptive end; however, many find the vulnerability inherent in being anally receptive to be pleasurable, both emotionally and physically (Kippax & Smith, 2001). Guss (2010) notes that though arousal is physiological, it is processed through the brain, where embodied erotic narratives are created. In this way, he explains that pleasure begins ungendered and devoid of power dynamics or sexual orientation (Guss, 2010). Along the lines of Foucault’s different definitions of power, Kippax and Smith (2001) note that power dynamics in the context of anal sex vary according to the relationship in question, and that the bottom or submissive partner can just as easily be in power as the top or dominant, depending on desire, persuasiveness, and a number of other situation-dependent factors (Kippax & Smith, 2001).
As described earlier, the predominant heteronormative construct of masculinity contributes to deleterious outcomes in those who do not conform to societal expectation, and arguably also to those who do (B. A. Branfman & Stiritz, 2012; Hill, 2007). Social re/enforcement of heteronormative masculinity can lead to anticipated stigma around the fear of being revealed as less masculine than the socially constructed heteronormative ideal, and that fear of exposure and subsequent humiliation can lead to shame for being afraid (Kimmel, 1997; Quinn & Chaudoir, 2009; Shadbolt, 2009). In other words, males (anoreceptive and otherwise) are caught in a continuous, reciprocal loop: they can never be masculine enough, which leads to fear of exposure that they are not masculine enough, which leads to feeling ashamed of feeling afraid, which feeds back into not being masculine enough due to being afraid of not being masculine enough. This shame of being afraid of never being masculine enough leads to a silencing of this fear, and shameful silence becomes the glue which holds up the mask of masculinity (Anderson, 2012; Kimmel, 1997; Schlicter, 2004).
Though there is no clear consensus on a definition for shame, it is commonly described as an often intense and incapacitating sense of distress, inferiority, powerlessness, self-consciousness, and alienation; disruptive of thought, speech, and behavior; a reaction to perceived transgressions; and resulting in the inhibition or self-regulation of those perceived transgressions in order to avoid negative judgment or exposure (Andrews, Qian, & Valentine, 2002; Cohen, Wolf, Panter, & Insko, 2011; Greene & Britton, 2012; Mereish & Poteat, 2015; Rizvi, 2010; Shadbolt, 2009). Shadbolt (2009) describes shame as an inhibitor of sexual feelings that start out as pleasurable but transform into displeasure when they intersect with the potential for judgment by others.
Thus, the stifling coil of mandated silence around behaviors that do not fit within the heteronormative ideal is a breeding ground for shame in ARHMs, and the degrading discourse around anal sexuality that has historically filled the silence is further damning. Coinciding with Krafft-Ebing’s groundbreaking 1930 publication Psychopathia Sexualis (as cited in Young & Meyer, 2005), the discourse around sodomy shifted from morality policing to medicalization, which socially reconstructed anal sexuality to position it solely as a threat to public health, continuing to exclude any admission of anal pleasure (Eskridge, 2008). Within this framework, anal sex is effectively inseparable from taboo, with pejorative associations dating back centuries that persist today, including (but not limited to) that it is dangerous, dirty, immoral, feminine, gay, masochistic, pathological, painful, perverted, and unnatural (Blechner, 2010; Eskridge, 2008; Guss, 2010; Hardy, 2010; Herek, 2007; Hollows, 2007; Rye & Meaney, 2007). The attempt at controlling anal sexuality can be said to have backfired, however, in that many people are drawn to that which is prohibited (Eskridge, 2008). Despite the trend to amplify an affirmative discourse around anal sexuality, the manufactured notion of danger in association with anal sex persists as a means of protecting social unity via conformity to gender roles, positioning anal sexuality as transgressive via the controlling mechanisms of heteronormative masculinity and phallocentrism (Guss, 2010; Herek, 2007).
Subverting and Reclaiming Power in Anal Play
Both BDSM and anoreceptive sex tend to be understood as inherently power-imbued. There is a long-standing tradition of associating anoreception with passivity and submission that dates back to Ancient Egypt and Ancient Greece (Bullough, 1976; Foucault, 1990; Kippax & Smith, 2001); however, the association between anal sexuality and power exchange is not always a given. Examples of this distinction can be found on Reddit, a social media website where a broad variety of content and subject matters are shared, discussed, and up- or down-voted (Shatz, 2016). The website has a number of groups related to anoreception, among the most relevant to this discussion are the “pegging” group, with over 50,000 members as of July 2017, including both BDSM-oriented and non-BDSM-oriented content related to ARHMs (“Spread ‘em,” n.d.); and the non-BDSM-oriented “pegging” group, with over 21,000 members as of July 2017, and guidelines that indicate posted content should be non-BDSM-related (“Non-Kink Informational Pegging Website,” n.d.).
Given that so many Reddit members felt it was important to designate distinct special interest groups to separate out BDSM-oriented and non-BDSM-oriented ARHMs, it is likely that there are characteristic and experiential differences in members between the two groups. Because the larger group contains both BDSM-oriented and non-BDSM-oriented members, it is not possible to determine which type of anoreceptive sexuality is more popular among the website’s users, though the numbers suggest that there are more users who are willing and perhaps prefer seeing BDSM-related ARHM content than those who would rather see only non-BDSM-related ARHM content. That there exists a BDSM-exclusive pegging subreddit, and that this group feels it necessary to clearly communicate the importance of excluding BDSM-related content in their group description, 3 calls attention to and contributes to the stigmatizing of BDSM-related content. The stigmatizing of BDSM activities is one means of causing and/or reinforcing sexual shame in BDSM-oriented ARHMs.
Though there has been, to date, no research investigating the difference between ARHM sex in and out of BDSM contexts, anal play (i.e., anal penetration or stimulation with body parts or sex toys) is reported to be a relatively common activity in BDSM contexts (Hollows, 2007; Moser & Kleinplatz, 2007; Rye & Meaney, 2007). While penetrative sex acts can be incorporated into any phase of a BDSM scene, intercourse does not necessarily occur. In research on male participants who engage in BDSM, Sandnabba et al. (1999) found that 70% of participants reported engaging in anal intercourse and rimming (penetration and/or stimulation of an anus with a tongue; as cited in Rye & Meaney, 2007). Nordling, Sandnabba, Santilla, and Alison (2006) found that anal play is popular among Finnish BDSM practitioners, but also that anal play—such as anal intercourse, rimming, and fisting—is not always considered to be a BDSM practice (as cited in Hollows, 2007). Langdridge (2007) explained that people engage in BDSM seeking to experience pleasure; however, pleasure and the meaning of specific acts are broadly defined, and determined by those involved. For example, Moser and Kleinplatz (2007) noted that whether there is an association between humiliation (experienced in a positive or negative way) and anoreceptivity is context and culture-dependent. Anal play can be framed as sadomasochistic or not, because BDSM participants cocreate the meaning of specific sex acts according to context (Pitagora, 2013). Furthermore, when anal play does happen within the scaffolding of a BDSM power dynamic, the power exchange is a construction that exists only through mutual agreement (Kippax & Smith, 2001).
Despite their wide range of social locations, BDSM practitioners tend to be aligned with the subculture’s central tenets of transparency, negotiation, and communication; an openness to nonmainstream identifications and lifestyles; a willingness to challenge social norms; and the desire to engage in personal growth (Bauer, 2010; Kolmes et al., 2006; Pitagora, 2016). These shared positive characteristics, along with a feeling of being connected to other BDSM-oriented people, may help transform the shame and stigma instilled by heteronormative society into pride associated with positive appraisals from peers (Kaufman & Johnson, 2004; Lindemann, 2011; Pitagora, 2016). The tendency among BDSM-oriented people to experience a sense of community connectedness and pride may be one of the delineating factors between BDSM-oriented and non-BDSM-oriented ARHMs.
The practice of BDSM often incorporates explicit negotiations, agreements, rules, and codes of conduct in order to encourage and enable practitioners to transcend social regulations (Weiss, 2011). For many practitioners, BDSM interactions are inextricably interwoven with the notion of power exchange (Pitagora, 2013). While the idea of rules and codes of conduct seems strikingly similar to the social regulations that BDSM practitioners seek to transcend, Foucault clarified the delineation between systemic domination (i.e., oppression) and power exchange (Kippax & Smith, 2001). Foucault (1983) noted two conditions as requirements for a power dynamic: (a) the person playing the subjugated role is recognized as a person with agency; and (b) that person can (and knows they can) make choices regarding what happens to them (as cited in Kippax & Smith, 2001). Furthermore, what constitutes a clear delineation between systemic domination and personal power dynamic is that the latter is reversible: consent is always rescindable (Kippax & Smith, 2001; Pitagora, 2013). In Weiss’s (2011) ethnographic exploration of the techniques of BDSM pleasure, the author reinforced the primacy of choice within the BDSM context regardless of power role orientation or positional preference. The author noted that the consent and boundaries put in place in BDSM interactions create a space for play outside of and oppositional to systemic power and nonconsensual social inequalities, in which to explore desire and chosen power roles (Weiss, 2011).
Whether penetration occurs within a BDSM context, the reversibility of power dynamics that Foucault described does not translate to penetrative reciprocity; if that were the case, the association between penetration and power would reinforce the phallocentric misconception that the insertive partner is always in the position of power (Kippax & Smith, 2001). For some, being anoreceptive means to relinquish power, but for others, anoreception is an expression of power, and is sometimes experienced as a form of submissive strength and pride (Blechner, 2010; Kippax & Smith, 2001). Often when anal play occurs within the context of power exchange, there can be a heightened sense of intimacy in the mutually consented to refocusing of pleasure on what is ostensibly the most private and vulnerable part of the body (Kippax & Smith, 2001).
Research suggests that those who engage in BDSM tend to be focused on relational skills such as communication and conflict resolution that can lead to introspection, self-awareness, and self-actualization (Pitagora, 2016; Taormino, 2008; Wright, 2006; Yost, 2010). There is also a sense of affiliation that can occur when an ARHM identifies with the BDSM subculture and reaches out to likeminded individuals for social support. Positive appraisals from in-group peers can help offset anticipated or felt stigma from being gender nonconforming (i.e., anoreceptive) and sexually atypical (i.e., BDSM-oriented), as well as contribute to more positive attitudes overall (Kaufman & Johnson, 2004; Yost, 2010). Weiss (2011) describes BDSM as an intensely personal and relational project of the self and identity, as well as a form of self-cultivation and self-mastery. The question remains whether these are experiences and characteristics that differ between BDSM-oriented and non-BDSM-oriented ARHMs.
That BDSM scenes can provide a safe space, free from predefined power structures in terms of gender and sexuality, makes them ecologically ideal for an evolution of the individual as well as that of society (Bauer, 2008). Some BDSM participants have found that the negotiation and explicit consent required in BDSM interactions have carried over into their nonsexual interpersonal interactions, thus providing an example of how heightened states of consciousness set against a subversive backdrop can flow beneficially outward into daily life (Hopkins, 1994). That is to say, when someone has become accustomed to clearly articulating preferences, boundaries, and/or consent in their intimate relationship(s), this type of communication starts to benefit interactions in other areas of life (e.g., professionally and socially) as well. Accordingly, BDSM interactions can be understood as a reaction against conventional sociopolitical roles and rote dynamics of power and subjugation, and as an appropriation by means of eroticism and transcendence, exposing the inadequacies of the typical social constructions that designate agents of power, and highlighting an opportunity for change (Beckmann, 2007).
Summary and Conclusion
The literature related to anal sex and ARHM sexuality associates shame, and social constructs of heteronormativity, heterosexism, homophobia, and phallocentric and hegemonic masculinity, with the silence around and the implicit (and sometimes explicit) prohibition of ARHM sexuality. Heteronormativity is referenced in the literature as leading to stigma in many people with nonconforming sexual preferences—such as ARHMs and BDSM participants—which can consequently engender shame and lead to other deleterious effects. In the explicit negotiation of power dynamics, and the inherent breakdown of traditional gender and sexual norms, a transcendence is possible, not only for the individuals who practice BDSM, but for all individuals who fall in or outside of the statistical sexual norm. It stands to reason that with a conscious subversion of heteronormativity, and attention to negotiated and consensual power dynamics to all manner of sexual interaction, an evolution of sexual potential for all is not only possible, but likely, and overdue.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Notes
Author Biography
, an alternative lifestyle affirmative provider listing; is a cofounder of the AltSex NYC Conference; and is Kink Doctor in the Web series by the same name.
