That which gives us purpose

Sara’s eyes flicked open from their stupor at that, hints of confusion and surprise clear in their depths. You waited with bated breath for what her response might be… though your hands never stopped their diligent work.

“You shouldn’t…” The woman tried to find the words to react to what you had just announced, clearly not quite grasping how you could describe yourself so or whether you had been joking. “Sam… You shouldn’t put yourself down like that… You’re a person, as much as anyone else. Non-binary… isn’t that what it’s called? That still doesn’t make you like a… chair or something.”

You smiled at her attempts to bolster and encourage you, glad that you’d been proved right in your trust that here was someone willing to actually listen to what you had to say… even if she hadn’t yet reached the point of understanding it. Still, you were determined to press on. To live this new life you’d taken upon yourself, without shame or hiding.

“No… I mean well, yes… I guess that’s sort of right... But the point is I don’t think it matters whether I’m male or female. It’s just not even part of how I define myself. Of who I am. Instead… I think it matters more what I like to do. What makes me happy… What my purpose is… So, see: More like an object… Or a tool…”

Sara seemed to be getting it now… she nodded thoughtfully, though her sharp, dark eyebrows remained knitted and creased.

“So… What is it that you think of as your purpose Sam? What do you do, that makes everything else unimportant?”

Your face bloomed red again, as of course it would. Some foolish part of you had dreamed that you could skirt around the subject in general without making it all seem just overtly sexual… But then, if honesty was what this was… You couldn’t really hide how much your erotic nature was indeed part and parcel with it.

“I-I like to make people… happy. I like to bring people… pleasure. You know… that’s just… all I really want from life...”

The older woman blinked. Your massaging hands having finally faltered as this revelation of the kind of person she had entered the home of and undressed in front of came to full fruition. The air seemed thick and heavy with the smell of hot oils and the faraway honks of suburban traffic.

“So, you think of yourself as basically just a... What? A walking dildo… is that right?” The smile that came with the statement was toothy and teasing… but also seemed to be coming around to the idea that this was actually what you believed.

“Umm… well sort of… yes. Though it’s not just all about… I do, do other things that aren’t… But mostly… Yes.” Your words went round in a circle as you tried to wriggle through their meanings, to find some way of further justifying yourself beyond the obvious.

“And Ben… He’s okay with this? ...He isn’t forcing you or anything?”

“No! No… He’s very… supportive. He likes me to… Back in the city we... I’ve always secretly dreamed of having someone like him, who…”

It felt distinctly like you hadn’t finished a sentence throughout this entire conversation. But, it was still so hard to struggle through all your social hangups to just admit the truth about who you were and how you felt.

Sara’s piercing eyes had not left you for a second, searching out any hint that you were being **** or **** into this life you chose to lead. But she could find nothing there of concern. So instead she simply settled back down… and let your hands resume their oily motions.

“Well… then I’m glad you’ve found what makes you happy, hun. Maybe… Maybe we’d all be a bit more content if we looked at things like you do. Thank you for telling me about it, Sam. I think you’re going to make for a very… interesting neighbour.”