Returning to Sexyland.

So this blog has been dark for a few weeks.  That's partly just because I'm a pathological procrastinator and I had a lot of schoolwork.  But it's also because my conflicted feelings about the sex and kink communities were coming to a critical point.



Over the last year (as some people may have noticed), I've been gradually withdrawing from public/communal sexiness.  Haven't been playing with new people, haven't been going to parties, haven't wanted to even write about my personal sex life as much.  I still have sex and play with Rowdy--my sexuality itself didn't go anywhere--but I've been less and less involved with Sexyland.

This is not something I planned or wanted.  I miss being able to have that kind of fun.  I miss the thrills and the camaraderie.  I miss the "I'm telling this one to the grandchildren" stories and the "I'm so turned on it feels like flying" highs.  I miss the M&Ms.

There's a few reasons I've been MIA.  The first is that there's been a lot of revelations of abusers and generally bad people in Sexyland, including people I've played with.  Knowing that I've played with people who've beaten their partners, who were using me to cheat, who've committed rape--it grosses me out and makes me question my ability to read people.  (It's also caused a lot of angst in the local scene that makes social events less fun.)

Coming out as genderqueer has been a factor too.  I was used to being in the role of "straight girl" in Sexyland, and I don't think I fully appreciated how much I would have to adapt to a new one.  Presenting masculine at events and having people not react the same way as when I looked femme shouldn't be a surprise, but it somehow was. (Maybe because, shit, I didn't feel any different.) For a long time, I didn't take that change in attitudes as a response to a change in my presentation, but as an "...is it my breath?" awkwardness.

But the biggest one has been the uncomfortable realization that I have done things for the wrong reasons.  I've let my boundaries be pushed so I could be "cool" and I've pushed my own boundaries so I could be "sexy."  Or I've done things that were entirely within my boundaries, but I've done them for validation instead of for pleasure.  Don't get me wrong--this is not my declaration that I was only kinky and poly for the attention and my true self was "normal" all along.  A lot of the validation I sought wasn't just "coolness," but validation of my kinks; I felt like I had to jump into the Sexyland deep end without a life vest to prove to myself that I really was a pervert.

At first this felt awesome--oh my god, I really am a pervert! I really can go to a party and get beaten and fucked by three guys! This is real life and it is amazing!  But then the ooky feelings started creeping up on me.  The regrets for times when I didn't say "no" and the resentment (mostly undeserved) at the people who kept going when I wish I'd said "no."  That's when I started fading out of the scene.



I've been feeling that regret and resentment for a while, but last night was the first time I worked it out in words.  (WORDS: THEY ARE FUCKING AMAZING.)  It was also the first time I started thinking about a solution.

I need to recognize that I am, in many ways, a newcomer to Sexyland.  I need to go to parties with the intent to dip my toe in the shallow end.  I need to tell partners "go slow with me, I'm still figuring out what I like."  I need to start learning what I want and what I need.  Because although I have been Officially Kinky since I was eighteen, although I have a goddamn kink blog, although I have read umpteen kink books and been to a gazillion and a half classes... in some ways, I'm kinda new here.

As a genderqueer person, as a cautious and risk-aware person, as a person still seeking her own desires and finding her own limits... I'm new here.

I'd like to start exploring.

Green flags.

There's a lot of articles out there about "red flags" to watch out for when you're dating someone.  My favorite is the discussion of "Darth Vaders" in the comments to this post by Captain Awkward. The concept can certainly be used for victim-blaming--saying "why didn't you spot all the red flags?" is a great way to kick someone when they're down--but it's a good tool for someone facing the dating world.

A couple years back, I went on a date with a guy, jokingly disagreed with him about some silly thing I don't even remember, and he hit me.  Straight-up slapped me on the arm, hard enough to hurt, not hard enough to bruise.  He wasn't my boyfriend or anything; this was our second date.  I yelled "Hey!" and he started laughing and told me it was a joke and it's not like he really hit hit me, and I was probably taking everything so seriously because I was an uptight feminist, but he was willing to forgive me for that so long as I went ahead and laughed with him at this wonderful joke he'd made.

He called me for a third date and I did not call back.  I was closer than I'd like to admit to being sucked into the "it was a joke! horseplay! are you really going to hold that against him?" thing, but then I thought in terms of red flags.  Physically striking someone on a date is one of the reddest flags there is.  Even though I couldn't quite convince myself that the hitting itself was wrong, I could understand that it was a sign of wrong things coming.  I think that understanding saved me a lot of pain.



But the mere absence of red flags doesn't really say anything good about a person, does it?  "I went on a date with the most wonderful guy!  I don't think he'll emotionally or physically abuse me!  What a catch!"

So let's talk about green flags.  (Um.  White flags?  ...Cyan flags?)  Signs that someone is mature enough for a relationship, that they have a healthy attitude toward relationships, and that they have the potential to be a caring and responsible partner.  This isn't about compatibility--maybe they're a lovely person but you like Kirk and they like Picard--but signs that they'll be a good partner to someone.

 Here are a few.  I bet there'll be better ones in the comments.

• They communicate, early and often, about what they're thinking and feeling, and they give you chances to do the same.
• They introduce you to their friends and want to meet your friends.
• They have a rich life outside of you. It can be many different things--job, hobby, friends, family--but they have something that makes them engaged and energized and has nothing to do with you.
• They're excited by the things that make you different, not just the things that make you conventionally attractive.
• They ask you for your opinion and advice as often as they offer theirs. 
• They're willing to do un-fun, un-sexy stuff with you; when you need someone to hold your hand in the ER or take you to the airport at rush hour, they're there for you.
• When talking about previous relationships that didn't work out, they admit fault and regret.
• They always ask you before making a decision that affects you, whether it's trivial like "where to sit in the theater" or major like "whether to have sex tonight."
• They respect your decisions and emotions even when you can't "logically" explain them.
• You feel safe disagreeing with them, calling them out when they screw up, or telling them you don't want to do something with them.
• They set boundaries with you sometimes, and they do it in a matter-of-fact, respectful way.

Your mileage may vary, some bad people will have a few green flags, some good people will be missing a few, all opinions given are only opinions, et cetera.  But when you're considering making a new person a major part of your life, I think it's important to think not just about "are there no bad signs?" but about "are there any good signs?"


P.S. While I was in the middle of writing this post, Captain Awkward put up a post on the exact same subject!  Curse you, synchronicity!  But if you don't mind reinforcing my terrible case of Blog Envy, I highly recommend you check her post out too.

Cosmocking Special Edition: Fifty Shades of Cosmocking!

Light pink cover!  Light pink invisi-pants! ...Hang on here.  "Wow Your Man With These Moves Inspired by Fifty Shades of Grey"?  Oh boy.  I'm going straight there.

...Oh boy.  This is gonna be a whole post.

Thanks to Fifty Shades of Grey, everyone and their mother is buzzing about BDSM (short for this laundry list of naughty turn-ons: bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism).

Hey!  They actually got our goofy acronym right!  Maybe this article will be well-researched and created with input from actual kinksters!  Maybe it will discuss how BDSM exists as a community, how it encompasses a broad range of activities and motivations, and above all else, how crucial enthusiastic consent and explicit communication are in BDSM!

Suprise-attack him with a few of these tonight... and that's an order.

...Maybe not.

Use the back of a brush to swat his thighs when he steps out of the shower--wet skin is more sensitive.

That's not a sexy surprise, Cosmo.  That's battery.

God damn it. Consent is not some advanced detail that you can skip over because you're writing for a casual audience.  Consent is fundamental.  Whether you hit someone wet or dry--that's a fucking detail.

The ridiculous part is that it might turn out your boyfriend was secretly kinky all along. It might turn out that he is a bottom and does like hitting and does like being taken by surprise--but he hates being hit on the thighs.  Hitting him on the thighs gives him the bad pain and makes him shut down sexually.  He wanted to be hit on the butt.

Having sex without negotiating isn't a great idea, but you might be able to guess what your partner likes if you stick to the cultural standards.  When you do BDSM, you can't guess.  Kinks are too complicated for that and the stakes are way too high.

Make him watch a porno--from the pizza being delivered to the pizza boy getting his "tip"--without touching you or himself. If he tries, slap his hand away.

Careful.  There's a fine line between "oh, release me from this torturous sexual deprivation, Mistress" and "hm, I wonder if they're shooting this on a XL-2?"

Press a fork (firmly, but don't break the skin or anything) into different parts of his body--his butt cheeks, his pecs, his thighs.

My roommate and I tried this--for Science! Result: jabbing a fork at me at random just feels silly and uncomfortable.  It only got interesting because he knew how to use the fork on pressure points.

...oh yeah, and because I'm a god damn masochist.  That's kind of an important part of the equation here.

Get him to wrap your wrist and ankles in toilet paper for a lighter restraint. While you are bound, he should tease you to the point where you're so turned on, you have to rip free of your shackles.

Toilet paper bondage. Oh my god.  TOILET PAPER BONDAGE.

I love Cosmo so much.

TOILET PAPER BONDAGE.

...how much frenzied thrashing does it take to rip toilet paper, anyway?

In your meanest schoolteacher voice, tell him to go stand in a corner facing the wall and not to move. After a few minutes, demand that he get in bed and ravage you.

It's like someone told Cosmo what roleplaying is, but didn't give any examples, so they had to kinda wing it.  "And next, maybe you could play cop and naughty party boy, and you could, um, write him a citation and then tell him to have sex with you."

It's also exponentially funnier when you remember you're supposed to be doing all this stuff as a surprise.

Let him write "Property of [his name]" on your underwear before you leave for work. It's an all-day-long reminder that he is your "master," which is awesomely kinky.

That's just going to make for confusing laundry.

It also raises questions like "What does 'master' mean for us? Does it connote real authority in our relationship?  In what ways will the 'master' exert control and in what ways can the 'slave' express her needs and problems to him?  A master/slave relationship is a very serious commitment--is this what we really want?  Or is this simply a short-term roleplay for us, and we happen to find the concept of 'master' hot?  Even then, does the roleplay extend to any activities or dynamics beyond underwear-labeling?"

Then it throws all those questions out the window, because who needs clarity when you've got a Sharpie?

As you're riding him, clamp down on his earlobes with your fingers, and pull on them to rock yourself forward and backward.

Oh Cosmo.

TOILET

PAPER

BONDAGE!!!

(Dear million billion people who've written in about it--no, I haven't read Fifty Shades of Grey. Yes, I'm going to. Yes, I'll blog about it.)

Just one ally.

When I worked on an ambulance (this is my personal "one time in band camp"), we were at a nursing home, dropping a patient off after a routine transport, when we saw something disturbing.  A nurse was giving liquid medication to another patient who was clearly choking on it.  The patient was gagging horribly, the nurse was holding his head in place and forcing the oral syringe down his throat even as he was thrashing and making drowning noises, and after she finished she walked away even though he was coughing up medication all over his pillow.

My work partner and I saw this, and, with that creeped out feeling of "did I just see what I think I saw?" and "something's not right," we... left and took another call and went off to the hospital.  Then we grabbed some lunch.  Then one of us--I don't even remember which one--blurted it out.

"That thing at the nursing home... you saw that too, right?  That was kind of fucked up, right?"

Those two sentences started the chain of events that lead to us filing a formal elder abuse report.



When we see something going on that's Not Right, often we face ourselves with a false dichotomy--either do The Right Thing, confront them or call the cops or blow a whistle... or do nothing because you blew it.  And doing The Right Thing can be hard if you're not sure that what you saw was wrong, or real, or any of your business.

It's easy to judge people for seeing something horrible and not responding, but I think most of us have been there.  We've been in that nail-biting state of being horribly distressed by what we saw, but unable to act in the moment--more afraid of making a fuss over nothing than about letting someone get away with something horrible.  Sounds stupid when you spell it out.  But it's a real state that humans are really subject to, and saying "well, don't do that" doesn't fix it.  I wrote about one of my experiences here.

Here's another one: I went to a Jewish summer camp one year when I was a preteen.  On the bus ride back, I heard the administrators telling all the boys from the eight-year-olds' cabin not to tell anyone about Counselor X.  Especially don't tell anyone about how he touched your butts.  Otherwise we won't be able to have camp next year and it'll be all your fault!  You'll ruin it for everyone!  You don't want that!

I was young, but I was not so young that I didn't know exactly what they were talking about.  But I didn't tell anyone.  Mostly because I had this sense of "it couldn't be."  I thought it couldn't really be molestation because molestation is a big serious deal and this was just some confused boys and a counselor who looked like an ordinary guy and everything seemed really quiet and normal except for those few sentences I overheard.  I managed to convince myself that the counselor had done some things that might sound like molestation, but obviously weren't, but if the boys told anyone then the camp might be shut down because of a misunderstanding.

I know how fucking stupid that sounds.



But calling it stupid doesn't help.  Giving me speeches about "enabling" and "all evil needs is for good people to stand by" and so forth doesn't help.  What would've helped?  Just one ally.  Just one person who turned to me and said "they're trying to get us to cover up for a molester, right?" would've made all the difference.  Just one person who let me know my concerns weren't all in my head.  Just one person to check myself against, and I might have been able to say "we're telling about this."

So I don't wish that I'd called the cops, or told my parents, or CPS or anything.  Not directly. I wish that I'd turned to one of the kids sitting next to me on the bus and gone "did they just say what I think they said?"



Next time you see something that seems wrong, but "oh my gosh maybe not really maybe I shouldn't say anything I don't know," you don't have to go right to the cops or the boss or run into the situation with your fists up.  What you do have to do--this is a goddamn order--is tell someone about it.  Someone as confused and powerless as you are.  Just check in.  "This seemed off to me, does it seem off to you?"

Sometimes it isn't even about how the other person reacts.  Sometimes it's just about putting it into words.  You hear yourself describe the situation and you realize what you're describing.

Sometimes it's just about taking a step, even if it isn't the perfectly right step, that makes you realize you are allowed to act on this; now that you've done something you can do more.

And sometimes they look back at you and say "yeah, that was fucked up. I was thinking the same thing but didn't want to say anything.  You think we should go tell someone about it?"

And that, two people realizing they're not the only one in the universe who has a problem with what's happening, much more often than any spectacular act of lone-hero courage, is how evil gets dragged into the light.






[Wow, I've been writing a lot of dark shit lately. Which is partly a reflection of things that have been going on in my life--working in an ER and dealing with ugly scene politics doesn't always prime you to see the good in everyone--but nonetheless, it's not all I want the blog to be.  I'll try to write something positive about sex next.]

The missing stair.

Flickr user BadSwan

Have you ever been in a house that had something just egregiously wrong with it?  Something massively unsafe and uncomfortable and against code, but everyone in the house had been there a long time and was used to it?  "Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you, there's a missing step on the unlit staircase with no railings.  But it's okay because we all just remember to jump over it."

Some people are like that missing stair.

When I posted about a rapist in a community I belonged to, although I gave almost no details about the guy except "he's a rapist," I immediately got several emails from other members of that community saying "oh, you must mean X."  Everyone knew who he was!  Tons of people, including several in the leadership, instantly knew who I meant.  The reaction wasn't "there's a rapist among us!?!" but "oh hey, I bet you're talking about our local rapist."  Several of them expressed regret that I hadn't been warned about him beforehand, because they tried to discreetly tell new people about this guy.  Others talked about how they tried to make sure there was someone keeping an eye on him at parties, because he was fine so long as someone remembered to assign him a Rape Babysitter.

People had gotten so used to working around this guy, to accommodating his "special requirements," that they didn't feel like there was an urgent problem in their community.  They did eventually expel him, but it was after months of it being widely shared knowledge that he was a rapist and had done other unethical sexual things as well.

I think there were some people in the community who were intentionally protecting him, but there were more who were de facto protecting him by treating him like a missing stair.  Like something you're so used to working around, you never stop to ask "what if we actually fixed this?"  Eventually you take it for granted that working around this guy is just a fact of life, and if he hurts someone, that's the fault of whoever didn't apply the workarounds correctly.

"Fixing" doesn't always mean throwing someone out. (Although in the case of sex groups I think people are way too timid about that.  Being invited to sex parties should be a positive show of confidence in your character, not some sort of default human right.)  Sometimes a person can be "fixed" by talking with them bluntly about their behavior, giving them specific rules to follow, or putting them on notice that they have one strike left.  You don't always have to get rid of "missing stair" people, but you do have to work with the person, not around them.



This isn't just about sex.  Just about every workplace has that one person who doesn't do their job, but everyone's grown accustomed to picking up their slack.  A lot of social groups and families have that one person.  The person whose tip you quietly add a couple bucks to.  (Maybe more than a couple, after how they talked to the server.)  The person you don't bother arguing with when they get off on one of their rants.  The person you try really, really hard not to make angry, because they're perfectly nice so long as no one makes them angry.

I know not all these people can be fixed, and sometimes they can't be escaped either.  But the least you can do is recognize them, and that they are the problem.  Stop thinking that your inability to accomodate them is the problem.



This isn't just about individuals, either.  Everyone who says "I don't want to be a victim-blamer, but girls should know frat parties aren't safe places" is treating rape culture like a missing stair.  Everyone who says "it's an ugly fact, but only women who don't make trouble make it in this business" is treating sexual harassment like a missing stair.  Everyone who says "I don't like it either, but that's the way things are," and makes no move to question the way things are, is jumping over a missing stair somewhere.

Fixing staircases is a long and difficult and uncertain process.  But let's at least stop blaming each other for not jumping well enough.

Not just for kids anymore.

On our vacation, Rowdy and I stayed with his family.  His parents made us sleep in separate beds because we weren't married.  Gotta keep those frisky kids from having premarital sex, right?

Thing is: I'm 26.  Rowdy's 28.  We have jobs and apartments and sometimes we go to Home Depot and have long conversations about paint chips.  Using "not til you're married" as a lazy replacement for "not til you're ready" is getting a little ridiculous as we head toward our thirties.

This attitude isn't just a family thing, though.  It's coming from all over.  When I was a teenager, I felt like everyone--doctors, teachers, politicians, police, pundits--was trying to control and repress my sexuality.  Now that I'm older... I feel like everyone is trying to control and repress teenage sexuality, and I'm collateral damage.

So much of the discourse about birth control, about abortion, about sexually explicit media, about STIs, even about sex ed, assumes that everyone who has sex is a teenager.  Should we have subsidized birth control because it'll prevent teenage pregnancy, or ban it to discourage teenage promiscuity?  I don't know... let me ask my 40-year-old married aunt who uses birth control!  Should we allow abortion so girls don't become teenage mothers?  Yo, I can't afford to become an adult mother!

The other day I got a message from a reader whose ISP blocked her access to my site because she couldn't provide adequate "proof of adulthood" necessary to view "adult" sites.  She's in her 20s.



I know why this is happening.  Hell.  I know three reasons!  And they're all terrible!

1) Making things about kids makes it more shocking and gives it more emotional appeal.  It's easier to get people fluffed up about "teenage mothers ruining their lives" than about "women who can't or don't want to have a child for various, sometimes complicated reasons."  Or on the other side of the aisle, "teenagers having irresponsible, promiscuous sex" strikes a certain emotional chord that "people having sex" doesn't quite reach.  Either way, your politics sound so much more urgent if they're about the children.


2) A lot of adults don't fit the traditional narrative of how a person's sex life is supposed to evolve.  The narrative is along the lines of: attempt to be chaste until marriage, get married in your early 20s, start trying to conceive immediately after marriage, and stop having sex once you have enough children.

(It's a little silly to call it the "traditional narrative" when there have always been tons of people who didn't live that way, but tradition and actual history often diverge.)

Adults who have unmarried sex, adults who have sex but don't want kids, and older adults who still have sex, are sequence breakers.  It's beyond mere "bad behavior"--a teenager having unmarried sex is bad behavior, but a middle-aged woman having unmarried sex is unexpected behavior.  They just don't exist in the narrow sexual-life-history narrative that we use for political dialogue.


3) We take it for granted that we have the right to control teenagers.  Sure, telling a couple to sleep in separate beds is absurd when they're in their late 20s--but is it really going to help anything if they're teenagers?  I'm all for teenagers not having sex until they're emotionally ready and they've talked about safety and consent and expectations--but I don't think adults should have sex if they don't meet those conditions either.  It's important that adults don't sexually exploit teenagers*--but it's important that adults don't sexually exploit other adults.  I don't think teenagers should see porn without context and perspective on how it compares to reality--you know how this sentence is going to end.

It's probably true that it's harder for teenagers to follow the rules of good sexual conduct, because of their age and inexperience (although having to do everything clandestinely and with no support system can't help), but the rules aren't fundamentally different for them.

The way society tries to simultaneously micromanage and deny teenage sexuality, it's no wonder there's  collateral damage onto adults.  But the real damage is right where it was intended to be--and it is damage.




*Horrible fact: the majority of "teenage pregnancies" do not have a teenage father.

Is it possible for an adult to have a truly fair and consensual relationship with a teenager?  I want to say "theoretically, yes," but in practice, all the couples I've seen do it have been trainwrecks of exploitation, innocence-fetishizing, the teenager's unrealistic expectations being strung along, the adult's inability to behave in a manner acceptable to other adults, and straight-up abuse.  So I'm not super keen on finding that theoretical perfect adult-teenager couple.

Cosmocking: June '12!

[This time I have a really good excuse for not posting!  Namely that I was very busy lying in the sun by the shore of a beautiful lake in the woods, and one simply cannot blog when one is vacationing that hard.  And before that I helped Rowdy move into and paint a new apartment.  So. Been busy. But also been a bad, bad blogger. I have a lot to say by now so I'll try to get back on track.]

Orange cover! Demi Lovato! Wearing an always-fashionable Zippered Cutout Unitard/Dress/Swimsuit... Object!  Her interview is about her struggle with eating disorders, which makes it totally appropriate and respectful that Cosmo has Photoshopped her to be skinnier!  "A Bonus Section So Hot, They Made Us Seal It"!  Who exactly is "they"?  There's no central magazine censorship organization!  Some retailers might reject certain content, but if they rejected explicit sex discussion I'm pretty sure they wouldn't carry any issues of Cosmo!  It's almost like this is a goofily dishonest gimmick!

But maybe there's something super scandalous in there, right?  So let's rip off the little seal on the "A Guide To His Package" section, and we get...

Guys have strong feelings when it comes to what you call their junk, and they tend to fall into one of two categories: They either like the word that rhymes with stick... or the one that rhymes with sock.

Oh for fuck's sake. This super duper secret sexymicious section can't even say "dick."  (And no, of course, there are no pictures of any interest.  There's a picture of a Sharpie marker, though, along with a claim it represents the size of the average erect penis.  I hope they mean lengthwise.)  I know this magazine is largely aimed at teenagers--which makes their terrible view of relationships more harmful, not less--but I'm guessing they don't go to a public high school if they're shocked by words that rhyme with bad words.

Men feel about their penises, I imagine, the same way you feel about your breasts.

No, actually, I have this thing called a vagina, thanks.

Breasts are important erogenous zones for lots of people (including me!), but equating breasts with penises is depressingly common, and seems to stem from two wrong-headed ideas:

1) Things that stick out are the important bits!  Vaginas are all hidden away and mysterious, and thus couldn't possibly be an important part of a person's sensuality or body image.
2) The stereotypical heterosexual man finds breasts more attractive than vaginas.  Therefore, women must find their own breasts absolutely fascinating.

Kinky sex is being sensationalized right now, but there's nothing new about dominant/submissive scenarios in women's fiction or in real-life women's fantasies.  Here's why: Submission is a primal urge, likely linked to our need to function in groups. It helps us accept authority. However, we also possess instinctive dominant urges, which allow us to take leadership roles.

And that's why every woman on Earth is a BDSM switch!

...Wait, no.

Also: SEX.  This stuff is (largely) about SEX.  It is not just about how I want a man to boss me around.  It is about how I want a SEXY man to boss me around in a SEXY way because that will stimulate me SEXUALLY.  Don't subtract that from the equation.  "I want to be sexually submissive because that's my fetish" is a very very different thing from "I want to be submissive because I don't like making decisions or having power."

Sexy: Skating with your pup [picture of a man on a skateboard walking a dog]  

Skanky: Showing your pups while walking your dogs [picture of a woman with large breasts wearing a tank top and walking two dogs]

They're not removable, Cosmo.  Maybe she would've very much liked to leave her breasts at home when she walked her dogs, but, y'know, not really an option for most people.

It's bad enough to declare behavior "skanky," but saying someone's body (and, I guess, the fact that she dressed in a way that made her body visible) is skanky--that's fucking... skeevy.

Let him initiate [asking you for your number]--it makes him feel manly to be the one picking you up. But make it easy for him by giving a few hints that you'd willingly offer up your digits. [...] If you're chatting about, say, bowling, tell him, "I love to bowl, but none of my friends ever want to go."

Here's the problem with this:
She: "I love to bowl, but none of my friends ever want to go."
He: "Gosh, that sucks. I hope you find some good bowling buddies!"
She: Thinks he's just given her a stinging rejection.
He: Not knowing that he was playing a secret game all along, thinks he's just politely expressed sympathy that she can't pursue her interest in bowling.

I did that for a while.  It sucked.  Now I (try to) do this:
She: "I love to bowl, but none of my friends ever want to go. Hey, maybe we could go bowling sometime?"
He: "YOU BRAZEN HUSSY, YOU HAVE DESTROYED MY MANHOOD!  NOW I HAVE TO BE A WOMAN!  THAT'S VERY INCONVENIENT!"

Why He Should Love You This Much More Than You Love Him

This is a big article on finding your "10% guy", the idea being that you should choose a guy who likes you 10% more than you like him, so you'll have all the power in the relationship.  So that's kind of creepy.  But it goes from creepy to sad when all the examples sound less like a guy who's smitten with you, and more like a guy who cares about you at all.  He calls when he says he'll call? He doesn't play games with your affection?  He treats you like he likes you?

That's not a 10% guy.  That's a >0% guy.

The article's also full of "this will be hard for you because you're not hard-wired to like Nice Guys" bullshit about how women are naturally programmed to go for guys who don't give a shit about us, but we need to break that programming!  Oh for fuck's sake. I don't even want to deal with this bullshit.

If something makes a man feel insulted, controlled, criticized, or backed into a corner, it shifts him into thinking emotionally, which isn't his strong suit--data transmits less quickly between the right and left hemispheres of the male brain, making it harder for men to process reason and emotion simultaneously.

...And that's why men can't move their left and right hands at the same time!

No, ha ha, of course I'm only kidding by implying that "brain hemispheres" are actual body parts with non-fuzzy-wuzzy functions.  Really, that's why you should never subject a man to anything so cruel as disagreement or boundaries.

I think I've figured out the Cosmo view of masculinity: Masculinity means being strong and resilient, but men's sense of their own masculinity is weak and fragile!  So it's women's job to carefully coddle and prop up men's feeling of strongness at all times.  Women's reward for going along with this charade is... er... um... I'll get back to you on that.

Invite your best girls over for a music video-worthy carwash. Put on your sexiest cutoffs, grab some sudsy water, and give your wheels a washing.

"Hey ladies, want to come over and wash my car for free?  It'll be a blast!"

Nice scam if you can make it work, I guess? I don't know why it has to be sexy carwashing, though. I think this is like the breast thing, where guys assume that if it's hot to look at a woman washing a car in skimpy clothes, it must be hot to be a woman washing a car in skimpy clothes.  They never seem to understand that, you know, those girls in the music videos?  They get paid for that.

About an hour before you get dressed, pop your panties in the freezer. Then slip them on just before you head out the door--you'll have the right kind of shivers in all the right places.

Oh Cosmo.

Kinky philosophy for vanilla sex.

Via tumblr happybdsm, which is awesome

[Oh jeez it's been too long. I don't even have a good excuse this time.  The dog ate my blogging schedule? Bad dog.]


For all the problems in the reality of kink, I love the ideals.  Kinksters may not practice perfect consent and communication (or, sometimes, any), but at least we know we're supposed to.  We talk about these things, we have classes and workshops on them, we even pass out little flyers about consent and communication.  I wish everyone did that.  I wish everyone, in this way, had sex the way kinksters do.


You can't avoid communication in kink, because the category of "kink" is too wide open for there to be any "default" script for play.  "Wanna hmm-hmm y'know? [meaningful eyebrow wiggle]" is just not ever going to convey "wanna tie me to a chair and verbally humiliate and lightly beat me?"  You've got to come out and say it, because there's just no other way your partner will have a clue what you're thinking.

You can't be fuzzy about consent in kink, because what you're doing would be literally torture if it weren't for consent.  You can't beat a person black and blue with a cane because they seem like they want you to.  You really have to reconsider your life choices if you start tying a person immobile because they didn't tell you to stop.  I mean, that doesn't make you a little insensitive or "bad at communicating," that makes you a few steps shy of being the goddamn Jigsaw killer.

Is either of these things really unique to kink?  I don't think so.  There's certainly a cultural "default" script for heterosexual vanilla intercourse, but is that the only sex you want to have your whole life?  And there's certainly more tolerance in society for "I kissed him so he should've known I wanted to have sex" than there is for "I kissed him so he should've known to handcuff my wrists to my ankles," but I'm not sure the first is any less absurd or dangerous.



Sex is a scene.  Even if there's not a bit of kink to it, if it's entirely gentle and egalitarian and "normal," it's a scene.  It's an intense manipulation of another person's body purely (or hopefully at least partly) for the purpose of pleasure.

So what are the rules for a scene?
-You have to negotiate, whether you find negotiation sexy in itself or not.
-You have to be honest with your partner what you're looking for, and expect them to be honest with you.
-You have to take safety precautions, and consciously accept the risks that exist even with precautions.
-You have to respect safewords. ("No," "stop," "wait," and such are safewords unless otherwise negotiated.)
-You have to be aware of your partner's responses and check in with them if things seem off.
-You have to be able to distinguish--and doublethink a little bit--between the fantasy that makes it hot and the reality that makes it ethical.

That's a lot of concepts but not necessarily a ton of work.  In an established relationship you can do it with one sentence sometimes.  Zero sentences if you have pre-negotiated understandings.  What really matters is the mindset--that sex is not a thing that just happens.  Sex is a thing you do, and it's worth doing deliberately.


As with most of my "Cliff's Super Confident Sounding Guide To Life" posts, this is something I'm still working on myself.  I'm guilty of asking for sex with "mmhm y'know" when I really had a lot more to say, and I wish I hadn't, but I still do it sometimes.  Learning to have sex deliberately is a process and not an easy one.  But the rewards (amazing orgasms, snugglywugglies, no "does he really like this" doubts, no "that coulda been better" regrets) are so worth it.  And kink has helped me tremendously on this journey.

I don't think the specific activities of kink are any use to vanilla people.  If you're not wired for this stuff then you're not wired for it.  But I think everyone, kinky or vanilla, should learn how to practice Risk Aware Consensual Fuckin'.

Cosmocking: June '12!

Blue cover!  Pink!  I mean... er, you know what I mean, there's a picture!  "Where to Meet a Guy in June!" Thanks, Cosmo, for tracking the migration of the flocks of men as they enter their northern nesting grounds!  "When Your Period Makes You Cra-a-zy!" I hate the "ladies be crazy on their periods" meme because I get depressed during my period and I don't like having my efforts to act normal and responsible despite crushing sadness described as "cra-a-zy!"  "Wild Sex Stories! You'll Die When You Read What These 'Normal' Guys Wanted Once Their Pants Hit the Floor!" Ha ha, pervs, serves you right for trusting your sexual partner with your sexual desires!

Order a cheeseburger: There are times when you've just got to order a Quarter Pounder, and that's really attractive.  It shows a girl is laid-back.

I'm all for this!  Except that it's in the same magazine with pages and pages of tummy-firming tips and diet recipes and "eat this not that."  Apparently women are supposed to look to men like they're laid-back about their eating, but God, not actually be laid-back.   Also, have you ever been on a restrictive diet and then suddenly eaten a huge cheeseburger?  It's... well, it's not always glamorous what happens after that.

Experts we spoke to say that you should say no when he asks you to do something you won't enjoy more often than you say yes.

Wow, those must be some really fancy experts.  Somehow Cosmo manages to make a page-long "The One Time to Never Tell Him Yes" article out of "when you don't want to do a thing, tell your boyfriend you don't want to do it."  I mean, I totally agree, it's just... does it have to be justified in terms of love experts and secretly strengthening your bond?  You goddamn well don't want to do it. That's all you need.  You're a person and you get to choose things.

["8 Ways To Send Him Away Screaming"] Use baby talk... in public.  Guys love being verbally castrated in front of other guys--it brings out their feminine side. While you're at it, ask him to pick up some tampons and diet iced tea for you.

Guys.  Real talk.  If you identify as a man, then you're a man.  That's not something you can accidentally lose by doing the wrong thing.  It's not something someone else can take away.  It will not be revoked if you forget to man around like a manly man at all times.  Your manhood is safe.  Fuckin' relax.


Also, I have nothing but the highest respect for a cis guy with tampons in his bathroom.  That doesn't say to me that he's feminized.  It says he expects visitors with uteruses and he thinks things through.

Q. My guy and I have attended lots of weddings, and he won't dance. I know he's self-conscious, but how can I get him to loosen up? 

A. [after dumb "get him drunk" joke"] Many guys feel unmanly on the dance floor, so you'll need to start slow--literally.  Get him to slow-dance with you one night at home, where he won't worry about a crowd watching.  Put on music when you're making dinner one night. Then give him a lingering hug, start swaying, and tell him, "Hey look--you're dancing!"

This is like how you teach a toddler to swim.  Unfortunately, this is not how you teach an adult that it matters to you when they say "I don't want to do this."  Say the guy never dances at a wedding in his entire life--what then?  He's not telling you not to dance. He's not making a scene out of not-dancing.  Why not just let him be his undancing self?  Unfortunately, the secret theme of this month's Cosmo is "people don't get to make choices just because they choose to."

Q. How do I let a new guy who I'm seeing know up front that I am looking for a relationship without freaking him out? 

A. Well, if you say, "I'm looking for something serious" on the first date (or even the second), you'll probably never set eyes on him again, because even men who are looking for a committed relationship will think you're superclingy. [...] If you usually sleep with men after just one or two dates, stop.  [...] Generally men put you in the just-a-hookup category if you give it up early.

So... the way to tell a guy that I want a serious relationship with him and I want to sleep with him is to tell him exactly the opposite at every opportunity.  Boy, that's a solid foundation for a long-term relationship.  You know, once you're past the "I have to have her, she misrepresents herself like a lady" stage, eventually you're going to have to start having relationship negotiations in forward-language, and  isn't it sort of scary to commit to a relationship with no idea whether the two of you are capable of that?

And there's a deep sadness in the message, "You have to hide your true intentions from your date, because he'd be disgusted if he knew how needy and horny you really are on the inside.  Your pathetic human needs are secret shames to bury deeply."

...For some reason I can't stop reading that in the voice of Pinhead.

"My ex was really into having me wear his clothes in bed--button-downs, tee shirts, boxers, that kind of thing. But one evening, he rolled over and said he had always fantasized about me wearing his jockstrap.  Yeah, we didn't last much longer after that."

There's nothing wrong with breaking up with someone because you're uncomfortable with their fetishes.  But the smug, forgone-conclusion tone of this story (like all the other ones in this article--it's full of guys with harmless fetishes and girls going "ewww freeeak") makes me sad.  Like he should've known better than to even ask, because obviously no woman would wear a jockstrap for him.

I would.  I wear men's clothes pretty much exclusively these days, and although boxer-briefs are more my style, I'd totally wear a jockstrap in bed.  Women who are able and willing to indulge various fetishes, who have fetishes of our own, exist.  Telling guys that they're gross for ever asking anyone to play along with their fetishes isn't just cruel, it's flat-out wrong.



It also encourages guys to not ask at all.  If all women are sure to laugh you out of town if you ask "can I lick your armpit?" (another one in the article), and you don't want to live your whole life without ever tasting armpit, the only apparent solution is to pressure, trick, or outright force a woman to go along with it.

One of my core beliefs is that spreading the word that women sometimes do want sex is crucial to explaining why it's important to respect when women don't want sex.  If you think women always just tolerate sex, then forcing them to tolerate it doesn't seem like such a big deal.  And if you think women never really want to indulge fetishes, why would "no, I don't want to indulge your fetishes" slow you down?

[When you go skinny-dipping with a guy] "Forget" to bring a towel for him.  He'll just have to stay naked a little longer.

That'll be one awkward walk back to the parking lot.

Real consent.

tumblr user laceandcombatboots

EDIT: Okay, some people are linking to this with the wrong intentions. I need to clarify.  This is NOT NOT NOT saying that any time the word "yes" comes out of a person's mouth under any conditions, that counts as consent.  Consent that's ambivalent or reluctant or resigned isn't "not enthusiastic," it's not consent.  All I wanted to say with this post is that there are multiple ways consent can be valid--not that everything remotely consent-ish is valid.

 There are also multiple ways a "yes" can be not-consent, and until you know someone really well and have communicated with them really openly about their motivations and convinced them really thoroughly that everything will be 100% fine if they say "no"--you need to hold out for the "YES FUCK ME NOW" consent.

So if you're linking this post to prove a point about "but they said yes, so is it really rape?" ...Fuck off.



I'm starting to have a problem with the phrase "enthusiastic consent."  It's well-meant, certainly: it's supposed to connote consent where the person consenting really means it, as opposed to situations where someone says "yes" out of fear or obligation or confusion or some other crappy reason that isn't "actually wanting to have sex."  I'm all for that, obviously, but the phrase sucks.  The phrase implies that you have to be horny to consent to sex, that the only real consent is consent given when not just agreeing to sex but craving it.

The problem is that this doesn't respect the agency of the person consenting.  It ignores the ability of a sober adult to say "I don't want this with my crotch, but I'm agreeing to it with my brain."  It tells people "You say you're consenting, but I know better, you poor dear."  And that's pretty shitty.  As someone who consents to things most people would consider gross or unpleasant (I've heard way too many times a woman can't really want to be punched black and blue) I'm in no position to tell someone else their consent isn't real. If you're unsure if your partner wants it or is just going along with it, lack of enthusiasm definitely means you need to stop and clarify--but it doesn't mean they can't clarify "yes, actually I do want this."

Which is not to say "yes" is a magic word that always makes everything okay.  But what matters isn't "enthusiastic consent" but simply "real consent"--consent that's given freely and sincerely.  Consent that someone gives because they're afraid they'll be physically or emotionally attacked if they don't isn't real consent.  Consent that's given when someone is incapable of understanding what they're agreeing to (because they're drugged, or they're a child, or they're saying "yes" to a different thing than will actually be done to them) isn't real consent.  And obviously consent that's withdrawn or never given at all isn't real consent.



But here are some examples of consent that can be very real, yet not enthusiastic:

• Consent to sex in order to conceive a child.

• Consent to sex or play to make a partner happy.  This is a tricky one, because the line between "I wanted to make them happy" and "I was afraid to make them unhappy" can get messy.  But consent to "I don't think I'll get pleasure from this, but I still want to give pleasure" definitely can be real.

• Consent to sex work. Sex work can be coercive, but it's not inherently, and drawing that line at "sex work is coercive if the sex worker isn't horny" is absurd.

• Consent to sex or play for curiosity's sake, despite a lack of physical desire.

• Consent to sex in a D/s relationship where the submissive agrees to sex they don't want as sex, but do want as an act of submission.



Grown-ups can decide why they want to have sex, and judging those reasons and whether they're "enthusiastic" enough is, frankly, none of my damn business.  All that matters is that they get to decide.

Asking.

I've mentioned a couple times that Rowdy and I, despite being together almost two years now, always ask for consent before sex.  I feel like sometimes that comes off a little pious, a little bit like this unsexy ritual we go through (or claim to go through) so we can achieve ISO 9000 Consent Compliance or something.

The truth is, though, that it's an incredibly simple and casual thing.  I mean, I ask "honey, do you want to go for a walk?" too; I don't just grab him by the arm and start dragging him down the street.  It's natural to ask someone before involving them in an activity.

We ask in different ways, too.

Sometimes we ask casual, and the answer is "well alright, sounds like a good time to me."
Sometimes we ask sexy, and the answer is "oohh God yes please now."
Sometimes we ask silly, and the answer is "yes, but without the ferret, okay?"
Sometimes we ask in whispers, and the answer is "...uh huh."
Sometimes we ask through kisses, and the answer is "mmmfffyesmmmfff"
Sometimes we ask pervy, and the answer is "yes Sir."

Sometimes we ask and the answer is "no."  Most of the time we're okay with that and cheerfully go on to other things.  Other times we're not okay with that and we feel unwanted or deprived or frustrated. But those feelings are still better than the way I'd feel if I realized I'd forced my beloved into something he didn't want.

I don't think I've ever made someone stop desiring me by asking.  I've only found out that they didn't desire me.  And holy shit, am I glad I did!  Whether as serious as keeping me from becoming a rapist or as bittersweet as turning sexual tension into "at least I know now," only good things have ever come from finding out someone doesn't desire me.



I've heard people say it's not sexy to ask.  I can't think of anything sexier than knowing my lover wants me.

I've heard people say it's not romantic to ask.  I can't think of anything less romantic than making your lover decide whether they're going to to yell "stop" at you or push you away or tolerate sex they didn't want.



I've heard people say "consent is sexy," but say it in that resigned sort of way, like "safety is sexy," that doesn't really mean it's boner sexy, just it's something they're sort of trying to promote.  I think they're doing it a goddamn disservice.

For me, consent isn't just sexy.  Consent is the only sexy thing.  My partner's desire, the fact that he wants me and wants this, is the only reason sex is better than masturbation.  I've got dildos, you know? I've got dildos in multiple sizes that vibrate and never go soft.  So my partner's body isn't a big deal to me.  The ego rush, the head rush, the racing heart and the throbbing crotch I get from sex all come from his enthusiastic participation--from the joy and the umf of knowing he wants me and the things he does because he wants me.

So fuck yeah Rowdy and I ask every time.  That's not a chore.  That's when I start getting wet.

Fairly unfair.

Rowdy and I are not officially a mono/poly couple, but we're pretty close these days.  I've only had sex with other people a handful of times this year (so, uh, super monogamous) and no real dates, whereas he's seeing several other people on a regular basis.  More than once he's gone to a sex party while I've stayed home; many, many times he's been on a date with someone else while I've hung out with friends or watched DVDs.

This is awkward, because I used to disapprove of mono/poly relationships.  They struck me as unfair and kind of icky, especially when they were between a polyamorous man and a monogamous woman--"boys will be boys, stand by your man" has all kinds of really nasty sexist implications.  I always worry there's a coercive element, that the man is too jealous to let the woman spread her wings and have her own fun, or that the woman wants monogamy but is too powerless to negotiate for it.  ...And now it's my life.

But here's the choice I was faced with:

A) Run out and date people just to be dating them, so I could go "ha! I'm polyamorous too! our relationship is symmetrical!"  Crappy for me, double crappy for the people I'd be using just to keep my Poly Enlightenment Cred.

or

B) Embrace the asymmetry as something that, despite looking the same as some really shitty unfair situations, works for me.  I don't want other partners right now, I'm happy for my partner that he does, and that's good enough.

So screw fair.  I'll settle for happy.



Our favorite stupid joke to make before sex is "Dude!  I just had an idea how we can both get laid!"  And then we fistbump and go "score, bro!"

That's what being partners really means to me.  It's about beating the system, the ugly sexist system that tries to pit us against each other, and working together to build our own system.  Sometimes it's a messy and patched-together system, the way homebuilt things tend to be, and it takes constant tinkering, but it's custom-fit to us and our weird contradictory ways.  And when it works, god damn do I feel like I'm getting away with something.

Name change.

I'm changing my name!  Yep!  I shall henceforth be known as Cliff Pervocracy.

Details:
a) I'm still going primarily by "Holly" in real life, but I'll answer to "Cliff."
b) My pronoun is still "she."
c) No big deal if you call me "Holly" from time to time. I realize this is an abrupt change, that not everybody reads every post, and I won't be upset or anything.  I expect to be "Holly/Cliff" for a while and that's okay.


Reasons:
a) Anonymity.  "Holly Pervocracy" is too close to my real name (my real name is "Hailey Bervocracy") and I've had some privacy scares recently.  A new name will help maintain the division between my real life and my work/school/family life.

b) Gender, part 1: Holly is a rather unambiguously feminine name, and I am a rather ambiguously feminine person.  I'm more comfortable with a masculine/neutral name.

c) Gender, part 2: I'm curious if my treatment on the Internet will change what I appear male to the casual viewer.  I've heard a lot of stories about women being engaged in discussion when they posted as "X" but treated with condescension or cynicism when they posted as "LadyX," and I'm curious if I'll have experiences mirroring that.

d) Maybe it'll stop skeevy dudes from thinking this blog is a personal ad.  NO I DO NOT WISH TO SEE YOUR PENIS SIR NO THANK YOU.

e) I like the idea of a chosen name.  In my despotic utopian fantasies, everyone would have to change their name (or consciously and explicitly choose to keep their birth name) upon reaching adulthood.  (Or better yet, every ten years.  This would result in a lot of middle-schoolers named Rocketship Dinosaur McExplosion and that's awesome.)  It's such a big and important part of your identity, it seems odd to just go with whatever you were handed.

Especially with what you were handed as a baby, when your parents couldn't know the sort of person you'd grow up to be.  Certain names fit certain sorts of people, and it's hard to predict that fit from a newborn.  "Cliff" is a name that's tough but dorky, macho-outdoorsy until you remember it's short for "Clifford," and that seems to fit me far better than "Holly."



f) The big one: I want to.

I've been having issues with wanting things lately.  Something in my brain, part from my family and part from society and maybe part just me, tells me that simply wanting a thing isn't a good enough reason to do it.  It tells me that wanting is inherently selfish and unbecoming, that wants must always be placed below all other considerations.  I can do a thing because it's healthy, because it's feminist, because it makes other people happy, because it's educational.  I can't do it just because I want to.

(This has not made me a beautifully selfless and giving person.  More "neurotic and passive.")

Honoring our own desires is not something we're taught to do.  It's assumed that kids are balls of cheerfully self-indulgent id already, that all you have to be taught is how not to eat everything and hump everything and name yourself Rocketship.  The lesson on "actually, indulging yourself in safe and considerate ways is not just okay but necessary" never really comes.

So it's something I'm learning as an adult.  I'm learning that eating delicious things makes me healthier than diet-and-shameful-binge cycles.  I'm learning that asking for sex doesn't always get me laid but it has a much better track record than not asking for sex.  I'm learning that when I have the time and money I'm allowed to go out and do silly things.  (Did you know Boston has a trampoline park?!)  I'm learning that well-considered self-indulgence is not half as annoying or gross or immature as allowing yourself to turn into a big bitter ball of frustrated desires.

I've wanted for months to start using this new name, and my "Wanting Isn't Good Enough" brain kept digging up objections.  It'll be inconvenient for people!  It'll be confusing!  It'd be okay to change to a masculine name if you were trans but since you're not then you're not allowed! It's frivolous!  It's self-indulgent.

Damn skippy it's self-indulgent.  It brings me happiness and does nothing else for the world, and that's okay, because bringing me happiness is something real and important.

So call me Cliff.  It'll make me happy. :)

Cosmocking: May '12!

Man, I wish I could write more often. :(
But Cosmo's here, and Cosmocking stops for nothing!

Pink... um, tomato?... er, salmon? ...reddish cover!  Some sort of Kardashian!  Featureless black dress presumably pitched as "slimming" but coming off more like "black hole"!  It's the Sex Issue, although it doesn't have particularly more or different sex than any other issue!  "Feel Great Naked--9 Foods That Burn Fat While You Eat!"  I feel great naked just as fat as I am, thanks!  Also I don't think you will burn fat by eating unless maybe you're eating a lot of ice but I really don't recommend that!

The one word a majority of dudes wish you'd say more during sex: "Harder."

I used to have this problem.  When I was a teenager, I watched too much porn, and I got the idea that "harder" was this generic expression of enthusiasm.  So I'd be having sex and moaning "harder, ohhh, harder," until the poor guy was dripping sweat and crying "for God's sake I can't go any harder."  Took me a while to figure that one out.

Anyway, their poll says 45% wanted to hear "harder," so Cosmo could use a little help with the concept of "majority."  I guess they weren't sure delicate ladybrains could handle "plurality."



There's an article in here by Sandra Fluke about "Why Do Women Need to Speak Up About Birth Control?"  It's awesome and I'm not going to make fun of it.

...And shortly afterwards there's an article about how if your boyfriend is having a bad day you should ask him to open a jar of pickles for you.  Oh Cosmo.

I guess if I don't have a pickle jar around I can just come up and hug him and say "Hey, I know you're feeling sad right now, but your triceps are statistically likely to be slightly stronger than mine."  That'd cheer anyone up.

Make a Hottie Hit on You
[The steps to making a hottie hit on you:]
Rock bold earrings or a shirt with an eye-catching graphic
Do the Cosmo heel dangle
Give him sexy eyes... twice

This issue does have a theme, as it turns out, and it's not sex.  The theme is "the alternate universe where men are incapable of hearing women's voices."

...Wait, that's the theme of every issue.  Shit, they even made it explicit in the last one.  But the "don't meet guys, present yourself for them" thing is really bad here.  Bad to the point where they suggest standing in front of the bar's men's room, because all the guys walk there at some point, therefore you're sure to get picked up.

This isn't socializing advice.  This is product display advice.

How should semen taste and smell? 

Slightly sweet and a bit chlorine-ish.

I think Cosmo's just fucking with us now.

Is there a move I can do to get him extra hard? 

Grab the base of his penis and give it a few firm pumps while talking dirty to him.

Isn't this just the time-honored method of getting a guy regular hard?

And you know, there's nothing wrong with that.  Nobody's born knowing how to work a penis.  A lot of Cosmo readers are pretty young, and learning some basic "works for most people" sex tips might not be the worst thing for them.  (Kinda breaks my heart to think of them getting the "stand outside the bathroom and your Mr. Right will find you" advice, though.)  But why package it as ultra-super-duper-mega-kinky secret sex secrets?

Maybe if Cosmo could admit to their readers (and themselves) that a lot of what they do is actually basic sex ed, they could do it more responsibly than this.

If I don't want to kiss my BF right after he performs oral sex on me, what should I do? 

Kiss other parts of his body--his neck, lower stomach.

In The Terrible Universe Where People Ruin Everything By Talking: "I don't want to kiss on the mouth right now, 'kay? But I'll kiss you here... mm, and here..."

In The Cosmoverse: [turns head away from kiss] [turns head away from other kiss] [tries to kiss boyfriend's neck while he's trying to kiss her, bashes their faces together] [ends up holding boyfriend by the face to try to muscle away from him] [finger accidentally goes up his nose]

I will never understand people who think that talking isn't suave.  Shit, you should see the stuff that happens when you don't.

Why does he always tell me he loves me during sex? 

Chemicals released in his brain make him feel attached.

This is the saddest thing Cosmo has ever printed.

I mean, okay, technically it's correct, although it's also a valid answer to "why does he tell me he loves me during a long serious discussion?"  But I don't think Cosmo meant it like that.  I think they meant it like... God, Cosmo.  That's fucking terrible.

How can I get him to slow the pace when he's on top?
Press your hand against his butt to slow him down.

He's not a horse, Cosmo.

The scene is not safe.

[Trigger warning for rape and BDSM abuse.]

I went to a sex party not long ago.  I talked to a bunch of the members and organizers of the group, and heard all around that they really value consent and they're super aware of feminist issues and the danger of abuse in sex-positive spaces.  I had a pretty good time, met a lot of people, hooked up with a dude, fit a humorous number of naked people people in a bathtub at the same time.

Days later I found out, almost incidentally, that one of the guys at the party had been ostracized from another scene for "some problems."  Some problems with boundaries.  I was a little ticked that no one had identified this guy to me.

Later still, I found out that the guy had raped a woman.

Oh, but, like, she only said he raped her and no one was there to see it and it was really confusing and stuff and anyway what do you want us to do, like, treat the guy like a leper?  He got kicked out of one scene already and that was like a couple years ago and we're trying to help him change and now he's okay as long as someone keeps an eye on him at parties.



Originally I had written a rant here.  I'm angry about this, is the short version.  I'm quite angry.  I'm angry because this isn't the first time I've been around a known abuser and nobody told me; I'm angry because I've been abused under the aegis of BDSM; I'm angry because so damn many of my friends have been abused in the scene; and I'm angry because if I used the guy's name in that story above, I'd be kicked out of the scene.

If you want the long version, Yes Means Yes spells it out here, in a post I think everyone in the BDSM/swinger/sex-positive communities should be reading.

The first step is admitting we have a problem.  And we do have a problem.  I’ll skip to the end: there’s no shortage of stories that start “I was abused” and end “when I tried to say something the community closed ranks around the abuser and I was frozen out.”  It’s happened to friends of mine.  It’s happened in communities where people insist that the community isn’t like that.  And almost always, you have to actually know the participants to know what happened because nobody talks about it.  It’s all secret, there’s no sunlight and no transparency.  You, you out there on the internet, can search blogs until you’re blue in the face for a record of some of these stories, or some indication that you shouldn’t play with some of these people, and you’ll never find it.  Even when “everybody knows,” the “everybody” is very narrow.

And much more.  Go read it.



In the meantime, I like the BDSM scene.  I like the sex-positive scene.  I love that spaces exist where I can be myself and spend time with people like me.  I don't want to leave.  I especially don't want to leave and let the abusers have it.

I also don't know how to fix it. I find the efforts to do so alternately inspiring and utterly frustrating.  I understand the problems that "expose and expel anyone with any accusation against them" would create and yet I hate the default solution of "therefore, keep all abuse secret and consequence-free."  And I also understand that anything framed in terms of accusations is only cleanup after abuse has already happened--a real "fix" would cut down how much it happens in the first place.



I have a few small suggestions that don't require involvement in the question of accusations*:

1. Let new people know the scene is dangerous.  Newcomers shouldn't be hearing "BDSM is all about consent."  Newcomers should be hearing "BDSM should be all about consent, but there are a few people here who won't respect that, and we don't know who they are."  We shouldn't be teaching new people to relax and take it all in stride; we should be teaching them to be wary as hell.  I'd rather feel like I'm scaring people off than feel like I'm luring them in.

2. But don't assume all newcomers are only potential victims; newbie education should also include teaching people how not to become perpetrators.  (I'm going to hopefully write my own thoughts on this soon.)  For three reasons:
a) It may, in fact, prevent some of them from becoming abusers.
b) Seeing things from the other side may make them better at recognizing abuse.
c) It takes away the "I didn't know that was a problem" excuse in a hurry.

3. Make audience-visible consent a part of BDSM classes and demonstrations.  I've seen this done right a few times and wrong a lot more.  Right is when the presenter negotiates with their demo-partner right there in public, or makes it explicit to the audience that they've negotiated privately.  Wrong is when the presenter just jumps right into throwing rope (or whatnot) on their demo-partner, and as far as the audience can perceive, the "consent" is that the demo-partner doesn't safeword or run away.  Wronger than wrong, and not at all rare: the presenter gets "playful" with their demo-partners (or audience members!) in ways that clearly weren't pre-negotiated even in secret.

Taking thirty seconds to make it clear that you always ask, you don't skip it because "it's just a demo" any more than you skip it because "I know they'll like it," would make a big difference in BDSM education.

4. Most parties have special rules that you have to talk to the host about before doing fireplay and bloodplay--the host will direct you to a location where you won't set the house on fire or ruin the carpet, or simply say "no, we don't have facilities for that, this is a no-fireplay party."  We need to have these same rules about resistance and "consensual nonconsent" scenes.  If you're going to do something that looks just the same as abuse, you should be required to run it by the host first.

That way, if a host sees something that looks just the same as abuse, even if they're afraid/unable to shut it down with a "hey, is that consensual?", they have an excuse to shut it down with "hey, you didn't get clearance to do that!"

5. Get survivors to real resources.  I don't think we should be creating internal, informal resources in our community for this.  The "we'll handle everything internally and informally" mindset is how we got in this mess in the first place.  What I do think we should be doing, however, is making a concentrated effort to connect abuse survivors with resources like the following:
The Boston Area Rape Crisis Center
The Network/La Red (GLBTQ- and kink-friendly organization against partner abuse)
The National Leather Association Domestic Violence Project
The National Domestic Violence Hotline
 The National Sexual Assault Online Hotline

And, frankly (although I know damn well the barriers there can be):
The Fucking Police

When people report abuse, we should be referring them to outside, professionally run organizations with trained specialists who can help them through the painfully complex process of decision-making and escape and recovery.  We should not be encouraging them to keep it in the community.  We see everywhere from churches to colleges to the military what happens when abuse survivors are told "we'll handle that internally," and it's always crap.  Let's handle this shit externally for once.



The first step is to admit we have a problem.  So in a way I'm glad to see my community doing that.  Even though it's upsetting and causes a lot of strife in the short term, I'm really happy to see all these conversations about the dark side of the BDSM community coming out in the open.  I just hope we can go from conversations to actual change.



*I really fucking hate saying "accusations," by the way, when I think it's "reports," and I fucking hate acting like it's a big tough question.  As far as I'm concerned I know the vast majority of these accusations are true and that not inviting someone to sex parties is such a mild goddamn punishment we should just fucking do it when we know damn well someone is a fucking rapist.  But I'm never going to sell that opinion to the community.

What am I?

I've gotten a whole bunch of emails lately that read like the following (with various combinations of gender/orientation/activity):

"Hi Holly, 

I'm a man who considers himself straight, but sometimes I imagine being tied up and sucking other men's dicks.  I don't want to date them or have sex with them; I just want to get tied up and suck dick and that's all.  Does this make me gay? Does it make me bi?  Does it make me kinky? Does it make me submissive?

Help me, Holly: what am I?"

So I'm going to answer these questions in one fell swoop here:
You are what you are.

You're a straight man who fantasizes about being tied up and sucking men's dicks.  What else is there to say?  What would a label add, what would it clarify?  Whether you'd like this in reality or leave it in the realm of fantasy, or whether you'd like to do other things with men or with BDSM, can't be answered with a label.

I'm not just telling you that I can't extrapolate from a letter.  (Although, seriously, I can't.)  I'm telling you that most likely you can't extrapolate.  Sexuality isn't symptoms that give you clues to your syndrome; sexuality is the symptoms.

I don't think words like "straight" and "gay" and such are completely useless.  But they're only descriptions.  If you're a man and everyone you've felt attracted to has been female, eh, you might as well call yourself "straight"?  But that doesn't "make" you straight.  It doesn't tell you anything about which women you'll be attracted to, or give you a guarantee you'll never be attracted to any men, and it sure as hell doesn't mean that you "should" be attracted to women.

The people who write me these letters seem very aware of what their fantasies, desires, and actions actually are--much more acutely aware, it seems, than most people who simply have a label.  Frankly, I'd hate to see them trade in this awareness for "I'm a kinky bi man."

---

I don't mean to just give this as advice from on high; it's something I'm wrestling with myself right now.  I've been trying very hard lately to hold the lines of:

-I play because I want to, and this makes me kinky; I don't make myself play because "I'm supposed to be kinky, better live up to it."

-I play with people besides Rowdy sometimes, and this makes me non-monogamous; I don't make myself play with other people because "what kind of crappy non-monogamist am I if I don't fuck this dude?"

Both of these have been struggles. Once you establish the persona as this kinky poly super sexy sex person, it's hard as hell to violate that and say "you know what, I'm just not feelin' it."  The pressure to live up to your labels is both internal and external.  There are times when I really want to relabel myself "kinkyfluid" and "polyfluid" or something, just to emphasize that these are things I do sometimes in some ways; they're not things I've made some sort of commitment to doing.

Fixing the label isn't the real solution, though.  The real solution is to fix the expectation that the label can ever speak for me.



I'm a person who sometimes likes some kinds of kinky play (list available on request) and sometimes likes to play with certain people who aren't my boyfriend (now accepting applications).  That's what I am, and trying to figure out what that "makes me" isn't a recipe for happiness; it's a tragic oversimplification.

Boiling Frogs and Family.

flickr user DonkeyHotey

I spent the weekend with my family.  It was not a pleasant experience.  It was an experience that made me wonder: "How did I ever live with these people for twenty years?"

Because I thought it was normal, of course.

The "boiling frog" experiment goes like this: throw a frog into a pot of boiling water, and of course it'll panic and immediately jump out.  Put a frog in a pot of cold water and slowly raise the temperature, and the frog will boil to death while never noticing anything's wrong.  (This isn't actually true, by the way.  Frogs in real life will jump out when the water gets hot, no matter how slow you go, because frogs are sensible like that.  But it makes a great metaphor.)

And the "boiling family" experiment goes like this: visit a family where every mundane conversation is an emotionally charged battle of wills and passive-aggressive posturing is the only way to express emotions, and you'll think "these people are fucked up!"  Grow up in a family like that, and you'll think "I'm fucked up!"

For a long time, I thought I would never have any social skills.  I just wasn't good at people.  Couldn't make friends, couldn't figure out when or how to talk, kept creeping out or annoying people without understanding why.  Then this weekend I had a little mini-revelation: I was bad at social skills because I never learned any at home.  (I am naturally awkward, but nowhere near as much as I thought I was.)  I had to learn things like "how to make small talk that isn't grossly inappropriate references to suicide" and "how to say what you want instead of giving bizarre hints and then screaming when people don't read your mind" starting at about age eighteen.  No wonder I was in my twenties before I could have such a thing as a casual conversation.



When you're immersed in an environment, especially when you're immersed in it from childhood, it takes a lot of time and distance to realize it was an environment, and not "just life."

It sounds like a sad or angry discovery, but it's kind of a wonderful one, because when you're in the frog-boiler you honestly believe that you're never going to be any happier.  That every relationship you'll have as an adult will be like the ones you grew up with.  That every time, in your entire life, that you knock over a glass of water, you will be screamed at and sometimes slapped for it, and this is right and normal and the only way to avoid it is to never be clumsy ever.

Finding out that this isn't so, that in the real world most people just go "oh darn, I'll get a towel," is one of the giant ongoing joys in my life.  And reorienting myself so that I expect people to go "oh darn, I'll get a towel" is one of the giant challenges in my life.

It's work, and work I definitely have not finished, to shake the habits and ways of coping I learned growing up.  (I still have way too much of the "conflict means violence so hide or cower at the first hint of conflict" stuck in my head, and a little bit of "people only tell you what they want via secret signals so constantly evaluate everything as a signal.")  It's also a tremendous source of power and confidence when I get it right.



...Yeah, I can't really connect this post to sex.  I mean, it's got lots to do with sex, considering how much the shift from "people communicate by incomprehensible hints followed by hissyfits" to "people communicate with goddamn words" has improved my sex life.  But I don't think I can work "vagina" into this one.

My next post will be all about vagina.

Orientation speech.

[Oh God it's been too long since I last posted.  I meant to!  But then I moved into a new house!  It's not far from the old one but it's much nicer and it's also a kink-friendly space.

Which is something I didn't want to be important to me--hey, I'm not "a kinkster," I'm just a person who is kinky!--but it turns out to be huge.  The feeling of having nothing to hide, of being able to tell my roommate honestly about my weekend, of not needing to censor the contents of my room before opening the door, of not needing to constrain the way I interact with my boyfriend in the house... turns out that's not a silly whim.  It's something that takes a gigantic weight off my shoulders.  I feel safe in my home, and I'm just now realizing I didn't before.

...I also didn't feel safe in the old home because apparently my roommate was letting random people shoot up in the house.  I found that out as I was leaving.  Lovely. But not my problem anymore.

Anyway. I only just now got Internet in the new house.  So I've got some posting to do this week!]

This started as a joke.

"Welcome to Holly's vagina!  Please stay seated for this important briefing.

"Very little foreplay is required, but in the event that insufficient moisture is available, artificial lubrication is available in your seat pocket or beneath the seat ahead of you. Make ample use of this lubrication, as it greatly enhances the experience and reflects in no way on your performance or her enthusiasm, and can be used as a floatation device. 

"Roughly one inch above your seat you'll note the clitoris, illuminated with red and white indicator lights.  Tampering with the clitoris is a federal offense and may result in a fine or jail time.  Unauthorized clitoral stimulation will result in delay of our trip, and continuing to manhandle the clitoris and claiming 'but girls like this' may result in cancellation of your ticket. 

"Directly inside the vagina, on the front side, you will find our exclusive The Happy Place™ facility.  Feel free to enjoy The Happy Place™ throughout your trip, but please bear in mind that this facility is designated primarily for rubbing and massaging, and extensive or forceful thrusting in this area may not produce the desired effect.  If at any time during your trip you wish to thrust forcefully, please activate your call light for assistance and we will direct you to the most comfortable positions to do so. 

"In the event of an emergency orgasm, please assist those around you with their orgasms before securing your own, bearing in mind that the plastic bag may not inflate. 

"Enjoy your trip!  You may use approved electronic devices at this time."

Truth is, though, having an orientation spiel for my vagina is damn useful.  Simply sitting down and writing that, airplane jokes and all, clarified things.  To have good sex, it helps to know what you like--and to know what you like, it helps a whole lot to actually put it down in words.

Giving a little speech on The Care And Feeding Of My Vagina is one of those things that seems awkward, until you realize how awkward the alternative is.  Getting someone up to speed on my physical quirks makes the difference between constantly interrupting sex with "whoa no not that" (or worse, politely enduring "whoa no not that" things) and having things just flow.  It's not just about catering to my own needs, either; letting my partner know what's up with my body gives them an idea of where to start and relieves some of their performance anxiety, and it gives them an opening to tell me what's up with their body.

Obviously I wouldn't really do it flight-attendant style?  (Or I might.  Mixing "sexy" and "hilarious" is underrated.  This weekend I watched a couple have a pillowfight while having sex.  It was adorabawesomesexy.)  But I really would make a little speech out of it.  A breathy speech right in my partner's ear, given between deep kisses, with my hand running through their hair, maybe.  Or a cheery, matter-of-fact one over dinner.

...Or one posted on my blog, under the clever guise of talking about how to clarify sexual needs.



Sex for me is a three-step process.
1. Find out what you want.
2. Make sure your partner knows what you want, and you know what they want.
3. Dirty sweaty monkey love.

Step 3 gets all the glamor.  But it's rare chemistry indeed that makes Step 3 just work out without any planning.  The awkward, talky, using-the-word-clitoris-without-giggling process of the first two steps is where the real magic happens.