I Kicked My Brother Out of His Own Birthday Party so I Could Get Sounded
Turned out my hard limit wasn't so hard after all.
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As you might suspect, I have very few hard limits. For years, blood was one of them until I attended a workshop, which ended with me and my ex wearing vials of each other’s blood around our necks.
But there was always one hard limit I never thought I’d try in this universe or any of the multiverses. The mere mention of it made me immediately and involuntarily grab my crotch as if to protect my family jewels. Of course, I’m talking about sounding.
If you’ve never heard of sounding, God bless your soul, you sweet, baby angel. Luckily, I wrote an entire explainer about it in Men’s Health in 2019. But in short, sounding, or more specifically urethral sounding, is when you insert a sound—a long, thin rod, typically made of surgical steel or silicone—into your urethral opening. Since everyone has a urethra, regardless of gender, anyone can do it—though I imagine there is a difference in sensation between people who have a penis and people who have a vulva.
Why in the heavens would anyone do such a thing? Is it supposed to be pleasurable, painful, or an adrenaline rush? I learned from the Men’s Health article that people do it for several reasons—but the main one is that it feels pleasurable getting filled. Since I love having my asshole filled, I couldn’t help but wonder—maybe I should try filling up my pee hole, too? (If I remember correctly, Carrie Bradshaw asked the same question in season two of SATC.)
Well, a couple of months ago, right before heading on my book tour—I decided, fuck it, it’s now or goddamn never. My brother was in town, and I threw him a surprise birthday party. Now this was with my sex(y) friends who usually walk around with dicks and titties out. These friends can suck and fuck until the cows come home, but thankfully, they respected that my relatives were in town and kept it under wraps. Clothing remained on. Penises remained dry. (Truly unheard of.) But at a reasonable hour, 2 am, my brother and sister-in-law left. I did not stop them.
When they left, everyone stripped their clothes off like they were on fire. Titties burst out from underneath their bras. Semi-flaccid dicks started flopping in the breeze. And my friend, Badaladooski, whipped out his sounding kit, consisting of ten differently-sized “sounds” and cleaning products.
Badaladooski watched my face as my eyes widened. “Zach…” he said. “Do you want to try?”
“No!”
“Are you sure?” This wasn’t him disrespecting or invalidating my no. He was simply reading my face, which clearly stated: I have to try this.
“Okay, so remind me: Why do people do this?”
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