Sexual Snake Charming: Northwest Pride, Portland, OR

This weekend as I meandered through Portland as part of Blackout Leather's contingency in the Northwest Pride Parade, I was amused at the number of people who turned their asses toward me as I passed. “Whip me,” they invited. “C'mon, Daddy, please hit my ass.” With my longest snake whip in hand, I walked down the street doing simple tricks. Upon invitation, I invariably cracked my whip in their direction and waved. Others in the crowd ran into the street and asked to pose with me as their friends snapped photos. Still others called out loudly, wanting to be acknowledged by International LeatherSIR.

Over the decades, Pride festivities have changed from political protests to Mardi Gras parades. Often Gay men and Lesbians grumble about this change. As a Leatherman, I celebrate this shift because I have found that I can charm fantasies and hidden desires out of the general public.

Some use Pride Parades as an excuse to expose themselves or to demonstrate their play skills on a shocked audience. This seems to meet their desire for exhibitionism. During my first few parades as a member of the Community, I did the same. Today my motivation has changed. I wear my Leather proudly because I feel that I look my best in full Gear: breeches, boots, uniform shirt, and tie. I like to wear it during Pride as a catalyst for the sexual expression of those participating as spectators.

I feel that Gay and Lesbian Leatherfolk hold the key to sexuality outside of the socially accepted definitions of sexuality. Many people who consider themselves mainstream are anxious to cast aside these definitions in favor of free expression, if only for an hour or a day. Facilitating this expression becomes, in turn, as much a political act as the Stonewall riots.

During the parade yesterday I listened as a number of people ran up to me and whispered their dalliances into SM. As I stood and listened during lulls in the parade, I realized that my light-hearted presence facilitated these confessions. “My partner and I performed the Masochism Tango a few years ago,” confessed an older woman as her partner sat quietly in the sidelines and waved. Her confession brought a broad smile to her face.

Half way through the parade I began popping the cluster of balloons worn as a tail by a member of the Portland Community. As we walked down the street, we beckoned the audience to applaud. Then I would take aim. A veritable circus act in Leather that encouraged a release of laughter from the crowd.

I do not ask for acceptance as a Leatherman. I do want approval. Instead, I demand tolerance to express my sexuality in private. I have seen that those in the mainstream are more prone to exercise tolerance when they recognize the complexity of their own sexuality. The Northwest Pride Parade allowed many to expose their carnality for a brief period, feeling a commonality with those of us marching in Leather.

Happy Pride!