Jun 2016
His Grindr profile is a pictureless profile
He is 20 years old
5’ 10”
He is looking to experiment
This scientist
Questioning, questioning, questioning
I convince myself to volunteer for this experimental group
To be affected by the variable he is to control
I send him a ****
I drive to his house
And the scientist leads me to his laboratory
His room decorated with sports players and female swimsuit models
I sit on his bed, the examination table
He says he’s never done this before
Yet I know he’s still the one in control
He says he’s always been into ***** stuff as he caresses my knee
And I can’t help but take this all as a compliment
So I let my lips thank his
Holding his secret with gentle care between our faces
He is now my master
He’s rough
As if he’s battling a beast
He no longer speaks for the remainder of the experiment
He is silent
Silently observing my every move, my every expression, my every reaction
I am used to this
Years of ***** looks stabbing ****** into my skin
Feels bandaged in the arms of my master
I feel the history of gay men solidify in my throat
Centuries of experimenting on us, homosexuals
Has prepared me for this
I feel accepted
His lips
Like suction cup electrodes on my skin
His nails
like surgical scalpels digging into my flesh
His hands pinning down my wrists
Like binds to restrain my animalistic reflexes
The scientist
Dissecting every inch of my being
Transforming “making love” to “constructing lust”
Turning dehumanization into a beautiful art form
Elevating this gay man to “almost a person”
And I can’t help but feel thankful
The experiment is over
He sits there and calculates his results
He says we should do this again some time
And I can’t ******* help but take this straight boy scientist’s kink
As a compliment
As a medal, as an award
Made from masculine hands that once beat me up in the locker room
And I watch the monster creep back into the closet
And the scientist just stares
He is 20 years old
5’ 10”
He is looking to experiment
This scientist
Questioning, questioning, questioning
I convince myself to volunteer for this experimental group
To be affected by the variable he is to control
I send him a ****
I drive to his house
And the scientist leads me to his laboratory
His room decorated with sports players and female swimsuit models
I sit on his bed, the examination table
He says he’s never done this before
Yet I know he’s still the one in control
He says he’s always been into ***** stuff as he caresses my knee
And I can’t help but take this all as a compliment
So I let my lips thank his
Holding his secret with gentle care between our faces
He is now my master
He’s rough
As if he’s battling a beast
He no longer speaks for the remainder of the experiment
He is silent
Silently observing my every move, my every expression, my every reaction
I am used to this
Years of ***** looks stabbing ****** into my skin
Feels bandaged in the arms of my master
I feel the history of gay men solidify in my throat
Centuries of experimenting on us, homosexuals
Has prepared me for this
I feel accepted
His lips
Like suction cup electrodes on my skin
His nails
like surgical scalpels digging into my flesh
His hands pinning down my wrists
Like binds to restrain my animalistic reflexes
The scientist
Dissecting every inch of my being
Transforming “making love” to “constructing lust”
Turning dehumanization into a beautiful art form
Elevating this gay man to “almost a person”
And I can’t help but feel thankful
The experiment is over
He sits there and calculates his results
He says we should do this again some time
And I can’t ******* help but take this straight boy scientist’s kink
As a compliment
As a medal, as an award
Made from masculine hands that once beat me up in the locker room
And I watch the monster creep back into the closet
And the scientist just stares
