Dehumanization - Tumblr Posts

Controlling us via our bodies is a core component of misogyny. The depersonalization of women’s bodies and deconstruction of us into parts, into sundered physical components we don’t personally own yet must tend to as communal property, is traumatic and intended to be. The body of a woman, in irreducible actuality as such, is never extraneous to womanhood, to misogyny, to gender as a construct; all are entwined.

To declare womanhood, meaning women’s lived experience, somehow a distinct, independent metaphysical essence unconnected to our material selves is as malicious as it is nonsensical. Yet, as women, by assignment or by recognition, our lived-in selves—our own bodies—are already so estranged we’ll accept such a ludicrous declaration when presented as some principled if esoteric means to overcome its own paradox.

Treating our embodied selves as meaningless and uninvolved impedimenta of no relevance to Actual Womanhood can seem ideal, almost, when misrepresented as recourse instead of what it is: more control wielded over us, more denial of womanhood as a complex and diversiform material experience.

To declare misogyny via material association, via bodily deconstruction, a nonentity is a strange loop of a misogynistic ouroboros. The societal discomfort caused by reclamations of women’s physical selves as our own private territory is so immense we’re afraid to say its name. The simplest acknowledgments of women’s selves as material and as material which inherently belongs to us, as women, as people, are derided and labelled suspect by any means convenient.

That bodily alienation can serve liberation or inclusivity or any good end is a lie; it serves only control. Warping it to appear distinct from more plainly status quo edicts on women-as-body-parts and body-parts-as-women is universally pernicious—except to cis men. The cis male embodiment alone is unimplicated, unimpinged upon. That speaks volumes (and by “speaks volumes” I mean screams misogyny).

You are So Warm

Rae Klein 2020

christ... so much awful truth that i feel weighed down after reading this.

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

It's kinda like how it scares me to see people trying to explain why since someone is a horrible person, they don't have to treat them with humanity. Like, yeah, the moment someone does enough bad things, their well-being becomes secondary to the need to make sure they won't do more harm... But why does it look like the end goal you're working towards is being allowed to drag a target to a point where we can kick it for daring to ask to be treated as human? That seems... Really dangerous, actually.

Okay so, like... I've been thinking a lot about how we societally treat ai. And, like... Don't get me wrong, there are definitely many legitimate arguments for why it shouldn't be used in creative contexts, but a lot of the rage I see against ai does often seem to kinda come down to "how dare this thing that isn't a person try and pretend to be a person deserving of human treatment", and, like... Can we just collectively try and think about this impulse critically, then try to place it in the context of any psychological, societal and historical mechanisms it might be related to? Why are you angry at a literal machine? The machine itself clearly can't be deserving of your anger, it's not sentient. You can argue for why it shouldn't be used in specific contexts... But then, again, why is the argument always phrased as if you're angry at the machine itself, and not at the people using it? Why do you hear "I fucking hate when people treat ai art like human art" more often than you hear "I fucking hate when rich people use ai to show how in their minds, creatives are nothing more than a tool"? Could it be that our instinctive urge to direct our rage at "a thing trying to claim a status of humanity that it doesn't deserve" is, em... Bad?

Just putting it out there.

masks and helmets that hides someone's face in such a way that they become the face themselves my beloved

these are all creatures to me

really hate how ppl seem to think being human is something special, with bullshit like “love is what makes us human” and “this is what being human is about.” like god shut up, being human is what makes us human, and being human is what being human is about. there’s nothing more to it lol

dehumanization no longer phases me bc anyone who thinks "human" is anything other than just a species doesn't deserve to be taken seriously

For such a long time, i truly tried to convince myself i saw the word 'human' as nothing more than a synonym for 'homo sapien'.

But that's just how i wish it was. I truly wish 'human' meant nothing more than this species, that i could identify with the word that way.

But i am a 'human' only in that i am a part of the 'homo sapiens' species. But as long as ppl continue to delude themselves into thinking that there is some specific requirement for the label, that some groups don't qualify for whatever reason they come up with, that anyone has the right to look upon another and declare them unworthy, i won't be able to claim myself as one.

I wish i was human, yet when ppl say the word i feel no connection to it.

Does anyone else with ARFID feel extremely dehumanized?

I constantly see ppl make these... small little comments. They're not meant to cause harm, the speakers don't even realize their words might hurt someone, but.

Stuff like... food being a 'universal thing.' Something everyone, despite culture or background, can enjoy. All humans enjoy food. Food is universal. Everyone is brought together by food.

I do not enjoy food. I hate food. Am i not a person? Do i not qualify as 'human' bc i do not share in this 'universal experience' with you?

HERE’S WHAT ‘YELLOW FEVER’ REALLY MEANS

“All my ex-girlfriends are Asian.”

If you’ve ever come across this charming come-on, you’ve probably been exposed to yellow fever

For her full rant watch the video here.

No devil hides beneath my bed

Part 1, Part 2

AO3 CW: nsfw (minors dni), whumper pov, past noncon, promise of future noncon, pet whump, captivity, dehumanization, sexual slavery, put on display, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, multiple whumpers, cages, restraints, ring gag, forced arousal, object insertion, overstimulation, auction, noncon touching

Tonight Scarlet hosts the Lanista Society for a special dinner event. The Champion is the coveted prize, and Ivan is honored to have been the cause of it.

Champion taglist: @emmettnet , @ostensiblyfunctional

Ivan is left marveling once again at his superior's immaculate taste.

High Martinet Matar sure knew how to throw a party.

Her guests had been greeted with the finest. A banquet of gourmet Crescentine dishes and exotic delicacies. Fresh fruits and cheeses, tender meats and fish, spiced breads and decadent sweets, aged wines from the mountain vineyards. The finest money and magic could offer.

Their venue is just as grand, perhaps more so due to its creativity. A conjured demiplane Scarlet produced specially for this affair. Ivan finds it rather ingenious.

The woman was no stranger to hosting guests at her manor; he himself had been there only last week. But she limits those meetings to no more than a few people at a time. Fewer bodies are easier to keep track of. With large parties like this, comes the ever present risk of unsavory infiltrators. The Lanista Society held members with many enemies. The uninvited in disguise or potential rivals waiting for the right moment to snoop around. Larger groups made it inconvenient to keep tabs on everyone.

The demiplane removed that risk.

No need to worry about the unwanted loose in your home if you're not bringing them to your home to begin with.

And as a bonus, the spell's design was limited only by the imagination. And a wizard of Scarlet's caliber knew fine decor.

All which was fully on display for tonight's event. It was a special occasion after all.

On one end of the chamber, seated on a raised platform, was an ornate bronze cage. Round and domed at the top like one of those old-fashioned bird cages that didn't allow room for the bird to spread its wings. However this cage was far larger, for its occupant was no bird.

Scarlet found the perfect display for the Society's beloved Champion. An advantageous maneuver given he was the subject of business this evening. If Ivan had thought he looked enticing their first meeting a week ago, Scarlet had expertly ensured that the people present now would be incapable of keeping their eyes off him.

In fact, there was already a crowd forming around the cage.

Knees spread and wrists secured above him, the Champion was giving everyone a show with his trembling body. Years of fighting had toned his muscles, and the shimmering red velvet bands only accentuated them. Scarlet must have gotten the outfit custom tailored, for it turned the tiefling's form into a canvas painted with red. Velvet strips hugging his thighs and shoulders. Flowers of beaded lace climbing from hip to collar to the small of his back. Dangling garnets mimicked the appearance of dripping blood.

Absolutely exquisite.

Scarlet had elected to keep his lower region covered, draping that same black cloth around his waist that he'd worn last time. Ivan could see the sense; what was already being shown was enough of a free sample.

The guests were permitted to touch, at least to the extent they were allowed without having to pay. And the Champion’s body was a buffet getting more attention than the actual food. Fingers traced the soft velvet, then slipped in between to caress exposed skin.

“He has the best reactions if you stroke his tail,” Ivan had informed them, and they were quick to take advantage.

The touches worked well to elicit forced pleasure, though perhaps not as much as some other things.

Scarlet couldn't allow her pet to spend the whole party glaring or growling at guests, so Ivan suggested a means to keep him occupied. Just a couple simple toys, one placed inside him and the other encircling the base of his tail where he was most sensitive. Both hidden from the guests eyes with a specially crafted belt that doubled to prevent the tiefling from making a mess of himself.

From how much he was trembling, struggling to close his legs, face flushed as he moaned around the ring gag strapped around his head, the toys were doing their job. And the guests were very much appreciating the sight. Ivan could see a number of people with their hands under their pants.

He couldn't blame them. They stood before a desperate succubus, beckoning them all with pleading huffs of breath and squirming hips. Ivan himself was imagining how pretty that face would look around his cock.

He would have to wait his turn.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

The rhythmic taps of a wine glass drew the attention of the masses to the head of the table where Scarlet stands.

“Now now, everyone. I know my pet has been an exciting treat for you all, but I do hope you help yourselves to the dessert table.”

There were more than a few bouts of embarrassed laughter. Ivan included, as he too nearly forgot to go fill up his dish.

“I'm pleased to see he has garnered such interest,” she continues. “Just a quick reminder that the bidding period ends in thirty minutes. The current highest offer stands at 2,500 platinum.”

Well, not too bad a price tag for the Champion’s first official patron (Ivan's previous night with him didn't count). And if this went to a formal auction at the end of the party, if there was still an active bidding war, that amount would likely grow.

But already, he'd be returning home tomorrow with a decent payment. In a deal that spoke wonders of her generosity, Scarlet had agreed to save a percentage of the funds for him. None of this would've happened had he not raised the suggestion to her.

Lucrative business indeed. Ivan could recognize many big names at this party. Politicians, industry tycoons, nobility, all those with plentiful riches and power. He wonders if he could convince some of them to assist him in forming a similar operation in Mężnydzik. Or perhaps a connected branch.

Those were thoughts for the future. Right now, he was enjoying the view.

The first moment the cage is clear of onlookers, Ivan walks over and reaches through the bronze bars to lift up the Champion’s head to face him. With how long he'd had his mouth held open, his chin was streaked with drool, but thankfully Ivan had the foresight to wear gloves.

“Just like I said, little devil,” he purrs, gazing into eyes that struggle to focus through the mind clouding sensations. The tiefling whines in protest as Ivan lets his other hand trail up his thigh. “I knew you'd be quite popular.”

There's a moment of clarity to the Champion’s stare. A moment he's able to fight through the tears and the unwanted stimulation and-

Oh. Well isn't that a nasty look.

Reference for the outfit here.