Fetishizing Stomas - Myth or Reality?

Ok... I just remembered what someone told me two days ago and I just had to ask. Someone told me that there is a fetish for people with stomas. Like a pornographic subgenre out there. I told them that while I know that there is some crazy out there... that couldn't possibly be true. There is no way in God's green earth that I am even going to think of looking that up. But has anyone ever heard of that? I can't hide the fact that I am curious.

Eew, it's been a question that was asked before. It's damn right dangerous, and anyone who does this is asking for trouble. When you have a stoma done, you get information about it, and it tells you in the advice part that you should not use it for sex.

Oh my good....(as 15 year olds still say in Ireland...grooossss).

I almost spit my coffee all over my muffin (no! Not a sexual reference....that would be my muffin's muffin). There is just weird and then there is downright bizarre and practically speaking, theoretically speaking...there are no muscles in your stomach if you think of it in terms of the butt cavity that we no longer have. So it probably wouldn't be a practical or sensible way to go about the job that our lovely (but very sick and perverted Ms. Cazzzz....could I get your number Caz. We could discuss these issues...in depth, penetrating to the very nub of the issue lol...) . Our normal horny bits are located where they are for very practical reasons. Evolution (a really dirty word to some Luddites) by natural selection over millions of years (or six thousand years if you believe the famous Bishop Usher, a really embarrassing Irishman) has settled on a practical location for our naughty bits and pretty much ruled out other configurations, a male appendage coming out the top of your head (that could have some practical uses, like a unicorn with a horn that gives some indication of the male emotional state from minute to minute lol). Mostly it would be a horrible stinky mess. Yuuuuckkk.

Seriously though it probably has to do with fetishizing of changing the bag or taking care of someone with an ostomy??, something like fetishizing amputees. There is a very strange, quite disturbing but fascinating movie dealing with fetishizing injury, amputation etc called "Crash". It is a quite strange movie with a cast of famous and really good actors, Laura Der, Holly Hunter among the cast. The movie itself is a bit like a car crash actually. It might be disturbing to entertain the thought of people having such an obsession, such bizarre erotic inclinations but you can't look away. Most people would probably not be inclined to watch it to the end.

If you think you might have some odd fascinations or outside the box imaginings then this movie will put your mind at ease...." ...there are more things in heaven and earth Caz, Tiff than are dreamt of in your philosophy...". So I wouldn't rule anything out but the thought of the stoma one is well...beyond the pale.

Look that one up, "Beyond the Pale", it has roots in Dublin and the defensive fortifications that surrounded the city a very, very long time ago.

Well, I have proved it again, drop a subject in my lap and I can ramble on for hours/pages about it. English class in Ireland often meant writing interesting pages about often uninteresting subjects to demonstrate one's creative writing capabilities.

Eamon.

OMG, you make me laugh. See a gentleman with tons of knowledge. A man with compassion, hilarious, and smart. I can see Kitty was a very lucky woman.

Well, not to gross out people further... but I have also heard that anal prolapse is a porn genre. I guess if you could possibly conjure up a horrible thought... someone will turn it into a fetish.

As my mother would say at home when something terrible was mentioned... "..Holy Mary Mother of God!! :" or the male family member might phrase it... "Holy Feckin Jasus",

HOLY Feckin Jasus Tiff... what exactly have you been reading or, God forbid!! Watching!!?? Like being caught with candy in class when we were kiddies... "Aren't you going to share with us LOL... "the source of all this terror-inducing literature Ms. Tiff LOL... on second thought nawww. I'll be in Ireland in a while alone and bored, you never know what kind of weirdness I would get up to!!.

Seriously though, I think if you can imagine it (even if it hurts your brain to contemplate) there is someone who would find an erotic way to use it, do it, etc. A sister-in-law gave me quite the graphic description of her very own vaginal/rectal prolapse. She knew that nothing medically or physically graphic really bothers me and having all my medical painfully personal medical adventures and misadventures made me a good pick for her medical woes.

There was one event that removed any hint of squeamishness from my mind. An ICU nurse had no idea how to properly install a new baggie for me. I was stoned on some really good drugs, Demerol I believe, and had not even seen this new plastic shitbag attached to me, never heard of an ostomy. As I am fairly coherent and very comfortable in my big comfy ICU bed, the nurse is fiddling with my baggie, she says "Do you know the best way to do this" exact words!! I just grinned in silence, "What is that thing?" I managed to say. Anyway, long story short. It leaked into my very fresh and bloody full-length belly incision when they turned me on my left side, flowed right into the wound for hours. My incision slowly turned all colors and then black, like someone drew a 2-inch wide line with a black magic marker, right down the middle!!! Cut to the chase, it had to be opened up again and cleaned and debrided(?).

In an empty room, I was laying on my back, not a stitch on me like Jasus on the Cross. (It was not an OR). A young lady nurse was there. The surgeon told her to get some towels and other items and to arrange the towels along my two sides, freezing cold. I remember the doc standing over me poking my belly with gloved hands. He used his middle finger to poke at the incision after he took the staples out. The line was pitch black from my breastbone right down to "Mister Johnson()"... he was saved, you might be happy to know!! Then came the horror that could compare to one of those slasher, dismembering-filled movies... maybe "Saw" would be close. As he poked the middle of my belly above my belly button... his whole finger just disappeared. Like gripping a very rotten watermelon and the fingers slipping through the gooey mess.

As his finger disappeared, I saw a black streak shoot up to the ceiling. The poor nurse turned whiter than her perfect uniform and wobbled a bit. The doc told her, very calm and quiet, to get the extra towels ready. Then he got around to finishing my very close to disemboweling. He ran his finger from top down to Mister Johnson and as he went, my belly just opened up like a black, bloody earthquake fault. If you ever cut a hot pork sausage down the middle, you can picture my belly opening up like the hot sausage on the pan. The black blood oozed out of the crevasse and overflowed the wound... I was just frozen, mute but in my mind, I was thinking... "Shouldn't I be dead now" as I waited to see my guts popping out and sliding to the floor like a real-life version of the nasty little creature in "Alien" with no Sigourney Weaver to rescue me. I wasn't really afraid... like the car crash, I couldn't stop looking as my guts threatened to exit my belly!! There is a line of stitches deep in such an incision to hold the bottom layer securely... that single line of stitches is what kept my guts inside.

Took nine months of terrifying showers with this gaping canyon, cleaning and wiping away the dead cells twice a day and packing it with gauze... all at home alone. My brother was there but he was in law school so I tried not to interfere with his studies.

The scar healed very well and is a two-inch wide flat scar barely visible... my hairy belly helps!! Now you can see why I'm not squeamish about gory stuff. I starred in my very own horror movie, pity I have no video...

Eamon

How to Get Back to Activity after Ostomy Surgery with Kimberly | Hollister

That officially classifies as the most horrible experience a human has ever told me. I thought my fistula was bad..Holy Mother of God.

I can assure you I have not ventured to check out those scary things I heard about. I am smart enough to know you can't forget things you may stumble on. I prefer to live in my little bubble of lollipops and cat videos. I even put safe search on so I wouldn't stumble upon something my fragile mind couldn't handle.

What is it like in Ireland? I also know you have experience in SF. As you have probably read..I want to desperately visit both places. Did you have those health experiences here or in Ireland? Just wondering how their health system measures against ours.

Jasus, huh?

Strange how women have this curiosity? It harks back to the days in the Garden of Eden and, I reckon, there is more than a passing glance of truth in this assertion.

Quoting 'Hamlet' now, you sly devil.  What's next?  Are you going to claim that Shakespeare was really Irish?  LOL

Thank you Tiff, you're not too shabby yourself. One more thing I meant to mention. You do know that being a Virgin or at least virtually a Virgin is not necessarily a bad thing where men are concerned. Frankly, it would be truly a man's wet dream to be with a virginal young lady like yourself. Not sure if you said whether your Girlie Bits work? I know how complicated these things are for a woman. I really knew very little about women, I mean...the intimate parts of a woman's life until I met Kitty. Kitty wouldn't mind me saying this....after her breast cancer, she got early menopause. It has its advantages in that no condom/birth control was required. It was nice to experience that kind of intimacy and the real love that went with it. I eventually admitted to Kitty how long it had been for me and told her how beautiful it was to lose my virginity all over again.

My first time was so damn romantic...no bullshit....The girl was 19, maybe 18 from London and I was the innocent kid from rural Ireland and we met in France on a one and only school trip (first ever for any school in town). We just gravitated to each other immediately. A kid from my class wore thick glasses and some French kids were giving him a hard time, making fun of him. I stepped in between them and told them to F off. Denise was in the wings watching and we both helped him pick up his study material. Instant Puppy Love.

Pretty soon we were up on a grassy hill behind the school ripping each other's clothes off and getting down to it. I was about 16 so she was very sweet to me. You know... I can still smell that beautiful scent of you know what from you know where lol, she smelled so nice, I could smell her lovely aroma in my nostrils for days after. It was a bit awkward but such a beautiful experience, surrounded by grass and these colorful wildflowers.

Better stop here....might get a bit too X-rated for a delicate flower like yourself Tiff.......Nighty Nite. Eamon.

Well, when someone hears the V word... they think either A) religious freak.

Or B) there is something wrong.

My "lady bits" work just fine. That fistula was repaired three years ago, so it's all back to normal. It really boils down to tragedies of past love experiences. Waaay too long to write. But basically, the first person who I fell in love with was my best guy friend in HS... who ended up being gay. I wanted this boy to take my virginity in the worst way. I even remember telling him how I felt on a warm August night... sitting on my porch swing. He obviously rejected my advances, saying he didn't want to take that from me... that I should wait for the right person. I knew he was gay... I just wanted him any way I could and figured he could forget I was a woman for just one night. Terrible... I know. So it didn't happen then.

The next guy I fell in love with was freshman year of college. He was a skateboarder. I was (and still am) MAJORLY attracted to skateboarders. Something about them and the boards. Like... watching skateboarding videos is porn for me. Anyway, he was from the Bay area (which started my fascination with SF). We were getting to that point... the point where I was fully ready... and he ended up dying in a car accident. After that... dating was the furthest thing from my mind for a few years.

The third guy I ended up getting attached to had just gotten out of a bad marriage and wasn't ready to fully commit yet. I really liked him, but I wasn't going to share "the" moment with someone who wasn't emotionally ready yet to have a relationship.

Fourth guy... ended up finding out he had a criminal record which he hid from me for months. I am all about forgiveness, but he had problems with pain pills and needed to get help and work through that.

After that... I started to get a lot sicker and was in and out of the hospital HUNDREDS of times (as you read some of my backstory) and then eventually got Stella (my stoma). So for a VERY long time, I wasn't even concerned with dating. And then now Stella complicates things.

So... as you see. The right moment never presented itself. And I am SO not the type to have a casual fling or a one-night stand. So... here we are. 40 years old... unmarried... barren... out of my stomach.

I know a man would/should feel lucky to get me. But sometimes those doubts creep in and I feel like a virginal freak. I truly appreciate your comments and stories though. You are one of my top people to talk to. Not to mention those Irish-accented words. Keep the communication coming. I truly value your thoughts and opinions.

Hi Henry, what Henry....you didn't know that The Bard was a Mayo Man like myself!!! I'm sure that some place back there a little drop of Gaelic blood found its way into him!! ....if he was lucky. LOL..

In the Ireland of the old days, the Pen was a whole lot safer and often a better weapon than the Sword....Maybe you shouldn't bring a knife to a Gunfight but sometimes bringing a Pen (quill pen!!) to a Swordfight worked fairly well. Like many ancient societies and cultures, attempts were made to decimate native language and culture over hundreds of years in Ireland. There were "Hedge Schools" (in the Bog under a stick and sod lean-to) or the Bog Mass sites where religious gatherings took place. The Irish/Gaelic language being banned under penalty of death or at minimum, eviction with the little house burned or roof removed.

The history (like many others) was passed along in Stories told by the "Auld ones", Granny or Granda sitting by an open fire with a big pot of Spuds boiling in the big black "Witches Pot" with a hook allowing it to swing in and over the Turf (Peat) fire. Being a good Storyteller requires lots of imagination and creativity, embellishing on the fly to keep the attention of the audience.

Conflicts and battles were recounted as Fairytales which had deep roots in actual history. The reality of history was mixed with a healthy dose of imagination and fantasy populated by Giants and Heroes, Magical Swans and Gigantic Irish Wolfhounds (Really like a small Donkey!!). Every culture must have its hero characters, some real, actual people and some a mixture of Saints and Warriors from history and Pre-history. The culture was kept alive and saved by the Storytellers. On a bit of a tangent, the early Church in the "Dark Ages" became the saviors of the historical records from the fall of Rome onwards. The Monks of "Skellig Michael" off the coast of Kerry/Cork on the Southern Coast were amazing people. This tiny island is just a spike of rock sticking up out of the Atlantic a few miles off the coast. They lived in tiny "Beehive Huts" built without mortar or cement or even Lime, just flat stones cantilevered in a perfect Dome. The Island and the Beehive Huts are featured in the last Star Wars movie, just a magical location. The Monks dedicated their lives to making copies of religious and historical manuscripts from all over Europe. Pics in my Photos page.

Anyway.......lol....rambling again. The storytellers eventually got their hands on pen and paper and Gutenberg supplied their mass marketing. I think this is why we are known for "The Gift of The Gab"!! I used to have Kitty and her Kiddies rolling on the floor with roars of laughter when I would portray an old Irish Farmer giving directions, if your GPS stops working!!

"The place you're looking for is just down there now, over that hill. You know you're on the right road when you pass the cottage on the left that used to be there. Keep going until you see the Cows on the right but they won't be there cause Jimmy Jon McGinty will have them in for milking.......and so it goes for ten minutes, no wiser at the finish than at the start but very entertaining with lots of stories about the Sheep that fell over the 150-foot cliffs while trying to get that one clump of sweet green grass that was just too far out on the ledge. This is a fact actually. There will be a huge field of lovely fresh grass and the Sheep will be right out on the edge of a huge cliff, stretching his neck to reach that one clump of grass he just has to have. I've seen Donkeys and Sheep washed up on the rocks but never Goats!! Smart and agile mountain climbers!!

What was I talking about again.....oh yeah..Dracula had his literary origins in Dublin, the home of Bram Stoker. A quite appropriate description of how the Colonial Powers sucked the blood out of their victims, trying not to actually kill them (usually) but to control their subjects/victims and use them for as long as they were useful. When Estates needed to be consolidated by the local Lord, then the tenants were expendable, worn out by the Bloodsuckers who stole their food, their health, language and culture, and finally the roof over their head, spelling their end. Not sure if this might have been an intended subplot but I find it very interesting to speculate. He attended Trinity College in Dublin which was usually out of bounds for Native Irish people. Trinity could be described as the Protestant University, a Unionist institution which catered to the families of Settled English and Loyal Unionists only.

It is funny sometimes, if a Northern person is perceived as "good, heroic etc etc then both England and Ireland will claim them as a Native Son. If he/she is more a villain than hero then both England and Ireland will vehemently describe them as belonging to the Other side. Soccer was notorious as a gauge of how Unionist or Nationalist a person leaned. In Northern Ireland, a Pub conversation would start by finding out which Soccer Team a person supported. The Scots Celtics meant Irish Nationalist/Catholic....the Scots Rangers meant Unionist/Loyalist/Protestant. Being the Wrong Color meant a quick and quiet exit....without finishing the Pint!!!.

Ok, that's it...

Eamon.

Just to be clear Henry and the crew who might read this far?? The things I write, stories etc are 100% factual unless I say otherwise.

OMG now I've heard everything! So weird, awful. Everyone else has described perfectly. I can't add. UGH

You made me laugh pretty hard, thanks! The part about you not wanting to look it up got me :) I can't even hardly stand myself in that regard, let alone someone else getting off on such an off-putting subject! God bless

Like I said...if you can dream it up...it is probably out there. Like I am sure there is a midget inbred menstruating teenage mom with a stepson with a missing limb, bearded pregnant Asian lactating porn. Now. No offense to anybody who falls in that category or if you are a fan of that kind of stuff. Or to people who enjoy getting the beat out of them, electrocuted with a cattle prod in a dungeon somewhere. Just ain't my bag. Um...hehehe...."ain't my bag" get it?

I am sorry, Liz. I will take full responsibility for any psychological trauma that I may have caused.

No harm! Just one more thing out there!

Now that's a disturbing but creative image you painted there! Funny!

I've heard of enema fetish but not that

Doesn't that just float your boat? Now you can dream about that one

I have enough kinky dreams, I don't need to add that.

"Young innocent lad from the wild west of Eire....be the Holy Jasus and his blessed saints...you're a right bunch of sick puppies on this site...LOL.

True story, I really mean it this time. When I worked with my brothers in New York, there was an older guy who had one really hilarious preference. He was a simple kind of guy, nothing too complicated. He loved nothing better than to have a young or old or whatever lady (or not) fart in his face!!! Not a bit embarrassed to fess up..!!.

That reminds me of something that I find disgusting since I got my ostomy. The noises people make in a public bathroom...it's almost like being in a room with people having sex...embarrassing in that case.

Nighty night y'all.

Mr. Magoo, you're letting all your secrets out, lol. As for the man who had a fetish for ladies tooting in his face, there is something seriously wrong with him. I mean, what if she ate Brussels sprouts, onion, and cabbage and let one rip? Jeez, I think she would probably blow a hole in his face and the wall, lol. Seriously though, there's that bloke on death row who liked his Mrs. to poop over him. Good God, that's a bloody mess to clean up, lol. XX

Hi Caz.. I thought you might have been mad at me since I made a joke. You know I Liv Ya.

Now that was not me with the preference for sniffing smelly butts... Yuck!! What if the fart is one of those watery.."SPLAT...!! Right on the Shnoz.. lol..

I guess we spend very little time in a public bathroom, airport, restaurant, etc. We are in and out very fast, dump and run as I refer to it. Therefore, we're not sitting there having to listen to the grunts and groans, farts, etc., so we wouldn't really hear those noises much anymore! The women's might be a bit quieter in the women's? I guess this is why I find it disgusting to have to listen to!!.

Ok.... Really True Story. San Francisco. My brother is an attorney and in the old days, I would sometimes go into City Hall and file paperwork with the City Clerk. One day it was close to closing time, so I ran into City Hall and just got there as the clerk was closing. I needed to pee but I had to hold it until the thing was filed. I ran to the bathroom holding my peepee... so I wouldn't piss my pants. I finally get in there and let it go, what a relief.... suddenly I hear these guttural grunting noises and they get louder by the second. I figure this guy needs a good cleaning out!! Rotorooter!!

This keeps on for way too long and I think there's something wrong, maybe needs a doctor. As I look under the door, I see two feet but not flat on the floor, the person is sitting or lying on the floor. Then the noise starts up again.

Oops, hit the button...

So as I'm looking, the feet start moving strangely... then I see a second pair of feet! The noises get louder and louder, one of the shoes comes flying out under the door, zipper being undone... noises change... OK... I finally know what's going on here!! As I walk out the door cracking up, the passionate moaning begins.

Whoever it was... they were having a lot of fun in there, it was pretty small but they didn't seem to mind.

Heavy breathing continues... lol....

You see and hear some strange things in San Francisco... just standing around minding your own business or just taking a piss!

Yes, but Mr. Magoo, he might have got his winky stuck in his zip and someone has come to help them. LOL XX

Oh, there are so many out there for you, I promise!! Just keep looking!

WTF! Anyone thinking of going there must be animals or even worse into bestiality!

Probably unhinged, brought up on a farm with plenty of sheep, goats?

Hope it drops off!

Lol!!! ... so that's the other reason for wearing those short Wellies!!! BAAAAAAAaaalol. I get a shiver of horror down my spine when I think about it!!! I'm not going to look it up, but there is a really weird one "Coprophile", something like that.

On the serious side. If the surgical connection of your intestine to the outside is damaged, you will be in Hell!!! A Fistula at the Stoma will wreck your life. A friend online sent a pic of a badly sutured connection and a hole grew beside the Stoma, then another, then flesh-eating bacteria. They scooped out a hole like an ice cream scoop.

If you're lucky enough to have a working Stoma, then leave it alone. Do not ffff it up, be very thankful and take care of it.

My friend's Doc messed up. She did everything right.

Eamon.

Probably only got a tiny winky that's why they have to resort to putting it in a stoma lol XX