Be the Her Hyena
Female spotted hyenas give birth through their clitorises. An elongated stretch of nearly 8 inches of flesh - double the length of the innervated wishbone that lies hidden in women. More than one man has called my clitoris small, or “smaller than other women,” and while that deserves an essay all its own, I wonder how they would’ve reacted if out from my panties fell the powerful clitoris of the female hyena.
Her long, external genitalia can be both flaccid and erect; a fact which filled me with daydreams of a serpentine clitoris that could coil, rest and strike.
Or maybe having a hyena’s anatomy would be more like lifting a fur skirt to show off a short cord of skin-thick spaghetti that begs to be cast in The Lady and the Tramp slurping scene.
Had I stopped my hyena curiosity at just clitoral visage and not clitoral function, I would likely still be supine with my hands in my panties and my mind on spaghetti. But instead I read about birthing. Birth is never gentle, but birthing in the spotted hyena realm can be traumatic and transfiguring. The cub comes down the clitoris’ birth canal, with an eruption at the tip that resembles “rippers;” hot dogs that are deep fried until their oil-soaked insides burst, shredding the ends of casings like cut-off pork shorts. The damage of birth takes weeks to heal and the clitorises, with all their scarring, are topographically altered.
I have been bringing up the topic of hyena clitorises in conversations for years, but it wasn’t until recently I learned that beyond birthing, they also urinate and mate through their clitorises.
The peeing, I can understand.
It was the sex that got me.
The fucking that stupefied me.
How?
Does one tube of flesh enter the other tube of flesh like some extreme version of “urethral sounding?” If it were even possible to get more extreme than urethral sounding. When I first learned about sounding a decade ago, I couldn’t help but think of a man who falls in love with a butterfly and learns the anguished ecstasy of the proboscis penetrating the narrow regions of his penis.
Female hyenas are aggressive and dominant. I am passive and submissive (occasionally I am bold and bull-doggy). Maybe what I need is the power of the hyena in me. To flaunt this tiny button of flesh as if it extended nearly a hand’s length between my legs, as if it could burst forth with life. One-inch thick in the middle and ruggedly exotic from trauma. What if instead of concealing and covering, we ripped off our underwear and spread our lips and stick out the tongues of our cunts. . . taunting, flirting, and wildly exposing our potency for pleasure?
Be the hyena’s clit.