Sunday, February 2, 2014

Let's Read Fifty Shades of Grey: Chapter 15!

ANNOUNCEMENT: I will be speaking at the University of Chicago Sex Week again this year!  I'll be talking about "Sex Outside The Lines" at 7pm on Saturday, February 8, on the second floor of the Logan Center (915 E 60th St.)  It's free and open to the public, and last year was a great time, so I highly encourage you to attend if you're in the area.

Well, here we are.  Past the halfway point.  Before I get into this one, I want to tell you a little bit about my weekend.  (Graphic BDSM coming. FYI.)

On Saturday night, I went to a kink party with Rowdy and his girlfriend Artemis*.  We walked around for a bit watching people scening, then I asked if they wanted to do a scene where they both topped me.  They did, so I stripped down to underwear and we talked.  I told them I wanted to be punched and flogged, mostly on the back over the shoulderblades, and we agreed how I would let them know if I was having a good time or a bad one.

And then they started hitting me.  Rowdy and Artemis took turns, first bare-knuckled and then with leaden sap gloves, then with a heavy leather flogger.  It started out slow with a lot of "how's that? harder?" and quickly got more primal.  For a while I was laughing with every blow, then gasping as the pain built up.  While Artemis punched me, Rowdy held me from the front, hugging me to his chest as I alternately giggled and moaned.  Artemis dug her fingers deeply into my back, grabbing the bruised and tender muscles, twisting them.  That's when I started to slip into a trance.  I closed my eyes tightly and stopped laughing and everything turned inward.  The blows stopped being "pain, but good" and started being "good, but good."  Rowdy and Artemis took turns a few more times.  They were holding my hair, kissing each other over my shoulder, biting my skin.  I was less and less aware of time and of what specifically they were doing, and more aware of... flying.  Just flying through endless inner space on a rocket made of endorphins and sweaty leather.

I came back to Earth on a plushy sofa, with Rowdy holding me and kissing me and giving me sips of water.  "That was amazing," we both said.  "I love you," we both said.  "My back feels funny," I said.

*Oh, right.  Rowdy broke up with Sprite like three years ago and he's been dating Artemis for more than a year now and she's pretty awesome.  Probably should've mentioned this at some point.

So that's real BDSM for you.  It's not the only way you can do BDSM, for sure--there's a million ways--but I think it's not a bad example.  I asked for it, and I could have stopped it without fear of retaliation.  My tops asked me--and gave me--what I wanted, not merely what I could tolerate.  The whole thing was full of a spirit of fun and experimentation, not anger or bitterness.  And I loved the hell out of it.  I didn't come away thinking "that wasn't so bad" or "I had that coming." I came away thinking "I feel fucking fantastic."

So you can see why I'm completely appalled and disappointed by the way my beloved kinks are presented in Fifty Shades of Grey.  It's one of the most joyous things in my life, and it's being forced on someone who hates it, and E.L. James is saying this is okay and sexy.  It breaks my damn heart.

Content warnings for this chapter: Emotional abuse, you know the drill. Also rape threats and graphic sex immediately following rape threats.