Girl on the Net

Inside you there are two wolves. One of the wolves is slutty-as-hell. She wants to get fucked and fucked up: suck dicks, swallow cum, be brutally whipped and beaten by a parade of eager partners. Have someone hold her nose while she chokes on cock, and have someone else slide butt plugs into her ass to make her cunt tighter while she’s pounded. The other wolf wants to be loved.

The loving wolf wonders sometimes if the slutty one only gets let out to play to ensnare the men who might end up falling in love with her.

Inside you there are two wolves, and one is convinced the sluttiness is truth: the person you really are is the one who wants to suck and fuck and get drenched in torrents of jizz. The other is convinced that the only reason the first wolf exists is that it’s been led there by the patriarchy: trained up young to do the dirty tricks – including the dirtiest one of all, of course, which is tricking you into thinking that this is really what you want.

Which of these wolves is the real ‘you’? What is it you actually want? Do you like these things you’re doing, or are they just a distraction to pass the time until the softer, cosier, more loving wolf wins the battle and you end up married with a mortgage and two kids somewhere in suburbia, swapping comedy jumpers with a Nice Man at Christmas and talking to his parents about traffic on the A26?

Inside you there are two wolves, and the slutty one wants to rip the throat out of the other, then use its blood to lube up sex toys and have a big, dirty wank.

While these wolves are busy trying to battle each other, another wolf pops up to point out that in fact it’s actually fine to desire both sluttery and love – that these two are not incompatible, and life does not force a binary where we have to choose between different versions of ourselves just so we present a consistent narrative. We hate this wolf, the Nuance Wolf. It’s always been a bit of a dick.

Inside you there are three wolves, and honestly that’s already quite a lot of wolves to be inside a person. Let’s let the slutty out for a bit of exercise: arrange a hangout with two friends who are creative and kinky, invite them to ruin me, then spend the next four days tingling with whip marks and muscle fatigue and abject, gleeful gratitude.

Is this who I am? When I let the sluttiest wolf out to play, is that the ‘real me’ showing her colours? The other wolves disagree, because the very fact of their existence surely shows that I am not quite the single-minded slut I present myself as sometimes. The heartache I feel at missing my ex – not just ‘a man’, please note, but specifically that man – and the enthusiasm with which I hurled myself into building a life together well… both the other wolves are right that sluttiness isn’t my only characteristic.

Inside you there are three wolves: one slutty, one monogamous, one nuanced. Oh! And now another one’s shown up. A wolf which explains to you (with irritating patience and frankly absurd eloquence given that wolves aren’t meant to know how to speak in the first place) that growing up in this society, as a woman, means ‘what you truly desire’ will always be a nebulous concept. It means you’re constantly battling with the worry that you have never been fully free to choose exactly what you want, because so much of what you’re doing is either influenced by what you’ve told you ‘should’ want, or actively kicking back against what you ‘should’ want in order to make a point about the fact that you don’t have to do it.

While you’re patiently listening to this wolf, another of the cunts appears to point out that it’s not even just society, it’s human nature: no single person is ever going to be consistently one thing or the other, and yet humans like to label each other because it’s far easier to categorise people than it is to truly understand them.

What’s more, no one wolf will ever establish permanent dominance: over time, the slutty wolf might take a back seat to wolves that are focused on friendship or career or family. New wolves you’ve never even conceived of might appear, like ‘Wolf Who Goes Cycling Across Europe’ (we’ll modify the bike) or ‘Wolf Who Is Totally Going To Apply To Be One Of The First People On Mars If Given The Opportunity.’ Who knows what wolves the future will bring?

Meanwhile right now, Serious Discourse Wolf would like you to engage in the ‘am I truly a slut’ discourse in a sensible and considered manner, like Quinn Rhodes did in his fabulous blog post that you should totally read. Dickbag Comedy Wolf reckons it’d be more fun to simply try and skate over the issue in a lighthearted way because sometimes the sheer effort of grinding your own thoughts from rocks into sculptures feels exhausting. Besides, there’s fun to be had and slutting to be done and oh God will anyone ever truly love me?

Sad Societal Expectations wolf wants to bark out a blog post about how I’m not the sort of woman that men marry and I’m sad about that, while Angry Feminist Wolf growls that I don’t even like marriage anyway, it’s a fucking swindle. Another wolf, I forget her name (it’s hard to keep track, you understand) pipes up with something about Cool Girl tropes and Pick-Me behaviour, and asks earnestly if I reckon my eagerness to take it up the ass is purely to do with the ass-fucking or partly to do with wanting to be the kind of woman who’ll say ‘yes.’ Then another wolf remembers the Doxy butt plug I have and is like ‘yeah, seriously butt stuff is great, you aren’t wrong here – and remember how hot it is when someone slides it in and then fucks you in the cunt?’

One wolf likes giving blow jobs, another wolf is extremely envious that the kind of men she gives blow jobs to rarely have to grapple with this bullshit themselves. Another asks whether the reason you don’t like people eating you out is that you cannot stomach the idea of being the one who is done to, when instead you should be the one doing: proving you’re good value, never costing anything.

At the end of Quinn’s blog post he asks: “Am I a slut, or is ‘slut’ a role I force myself to perform because I believe it’s the only way anyone will love me?” One of your wolves says the former, the other says it’s the latter, but you don’t want to have to answer that question right now, because there’s a Very Horny Wolf demanding your attention. And another, the Ramen Wolf, who’s decided it’s time for lunch.

Inside you, it’s just a big old bag of wolves.

One wolf is extremely keen for you to end this blog post on a Life Lesson or moral, because that’s the kind of person you really want to be, even though deep down you don’t think there’s one consistent ‘you’ because your whole life has been this constant internal battle between various different wolves to the point where you’re beginning to wonder if the very idea of a harmonious ‘self’ might be an absolute con.

So for that wolf, I’ll tell you this: I don’t believe there is such a thing as ‘who you are’, there is only ‘what you do.’ There is no One True Wolf that represents all your desires, and in fact it’s not just possible but extremely normal to exist with multiple conflicting desires all at once. Each wolf gets to have their time, if you let them, but there will never be an alpha in the pack.

There is just you, making your way in the world, trying your best to understand what you want and act in a way that feels most honest at the time.

Inside you there’s an army of wolves. One of them is slutty.

And you are in command.