Thursday, June 26, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 14.

Day 14: How would you say real life BDSM/kink varies from fantasy BDSM/kink?  If you haven’t experienced real life BDSM/kink how do you think it might differ?
There's three main differences: consent, commitment, and clumsiness.

Which are all part of one main difference: in fantasy everything works out.  That's what fantasy means.  It may not work out for the best necessarily, but it works out in a way that's satisfying somehow to the fantasizer.  Real life is full of randomness and accidents and disappointments and plot threads that never properly resolve.  Fantasy is the realm where man plans and for once God plays along.

So in fantasy, it's okay to do things without consent, because you can be assured that either the person secretly likes it, they secretly like not liking it, or they don't like it but the author of the fantasy likes it just fine.  Any time you assume consent in fantasy is fine, because you wouldn't be assuming it if the author didn't want you to.  In reality, trying to guess which of someone's "no"s are secretly "yes"s is an excellent way to become a sex offender.

In fantasy, it's easy to make big commitments at the drop of a hat.  Become someones 24/7 live-in servant who never wears clothes and is so high-protocol they can actually pronounce the capital letter in "Master"?  Heck yeah!  Never goes wrong!  In reality... I don't want to say "it always goes wrong," but it requires a lot more thought about financial arrangements and family relationships and what if the servant needs a day off.  And--importantly--how are you going to handle it if either partner decides they don't want to be in this arrangement anymore?  It is possible to do BDSM full-time in real life, but you still have to deal with real life.

In fantasy, nobody ever falls on their ass, slips out of their ropes, or farts at a truly inopportune moment.  In reality, oops.

Finally, one more difference that I didn't list above because it doesn't start with a "C": art design.  Fantasy BDSM often comes with a lot of trappings, a lot of black leather or latex outfits and custom-built toys and lavishly equipped, literally underground dungeons.  And everyone around is either a slinky sex kitten or a muscular sex... lion?  Not sure how that works.  Sex tiger, maybe.  In reality, leather shit is expensive, lots of kinks can be done without any toys, and kinksters have roughly the same distribution of body types you'd see at your local bank office.  We're a motley bunch of scruffy sex alley cats.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 13.

Day 13: Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you?  Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?
I went swimming in the lake today.  The water was cool and clear and I floated away from the children splashing by the shore, away from the noise of the road, drifting alone with the trees and the sky.  Out in the deep water, I swam laps for a good hour before paddling back to shore.  I found a comfortable sitting log among the shade trees by the lake and sat with my toes dangling in the water, resting and communing with nature.  (Nature was mostly spiders.)

My muscles were sore from the effort of swimming.  It was a little achy, but overwhelmingly it was a feeling of comfort, like my muscles were better settled on my bones than usual, better able to relax.  In a way they almost felt virtuous, like they had earned this comfort.

Sometimes being hurt in kink gives me this same feeling.  It's the good hurt, the hurt of strong muscles and days in the sun, a hurt that brings pride as well as comfort.  It's a little pain mixed with a lot of endorphins.

Of course that's all well and good, but there's a whole lot of stuff that "oh yes, endorphins, just like a good hearty workout, totally understandable" doesn't actually explain.  My interests cluster around humiliation and control as much as they do around endorphins, and that's harder to explain with wholesome workout metaphors.

The appeal of those things is... complicated.  But for me, it's often about freedom.  Submission frees me from guilt and uncertainty about how to please others--I just have to do what I'm told, and I will be pleasing.  Humiliation frees me from impossible expectations--nothing is expected of me but to have receptive flesh.  Roleplay frees me from being myself at all.  And a violent scene frees me from thinking about anything but here and now and ow.

When I say "when I'm bound, I feel free" I'm not speaking in baffling contradictions or engaging in willful denial.  I mean it takes a huge freakin' load off my mind.

Monday, June 23, 2014

30 Not Necessarily Consecutive Days of Kink: Day 11 & 12.

Day 11: What are your views on the ethics of kink?
The long answer would require reposting about 75% of everything I've ever written.

The short answer: the ethics of kink are the same as any other ethics.  If something is okay in other contexts (example: hitting someone who's agreed in martial arts practice), then it's okay in kink.  If it's not okay in other contexts (example: hitting someone who didn't agree because you hear that they do martial arts sometimes), then it's not okay in kink.

Kink doesn't happen separately from "real life."  It's not a special case.  There's some kink etiquette that differs from other areas of life, but the fundamental ethics are the same.  The presence or absence of consent can change whether something is ethical, but not the presence or absence of kink.

Day 12: Tell us about a humorous BDSM/kink experience you’ve had.  If you haven’t had one, talk about aspects of kink/BDSM you find funny.
I once had a play partner tie my arms up to my chest with my elbows bent and set me free to wander around the party with my hands stuck up near my chin.  I think he meant it as a "you can walk but you can't use your arms" bondage thing.

I made my hands into two-fingered claws and stomped around making tyrannosaurus noises.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 10.

[Note: due to the nature of the question, this one briefly visits a wide variety of unsettling places.]

Day 10: What are your hard limits?
Not many.

I've got loads and loads of things that don't turn me on, things I don't want to do right now, or things I don't want to do in certain ways, but as far as things that I categorically don't want to do at all, ever?

It mostly comes down to stuff I think is unethical.  I'm not doing anything with animals or with people who don't or can't give informed consent.  I'm not doing stuff with someone behind their (or my) partner's back.  I'm not doing anything where real-life sexism/racism/etc. is part of the play.  Basically, if I don't find something ethically acceptable outside of kink, I'm not going to make an exception for kink.

Other than that, there's not much I find "ethical but too icky to ever consider." I'm an almost-nurse and roadkill-pokingly unsqueamish, so things involving bodily fluids and functions fascinate me more than they disgust me.  Permanent marking doesn't necessarily bother me either--I don't want obscenities tattooed on my face or anything like that, but the idea of picking up some incidental scars suits me fine.

Oh!  Gunplay!  Gunplay is a hard as hell limit, at least in any form that violates the "all guns are loaded, all guns are real, do not point a gun at anything you are not willing to destroy" rules.  Although knifeplay is fine with me--I've had a genuinely sharp knife right up against my neck--so I'm not consistent or anything.

And of course there's a whole pile of things I won't do that don't come up very often in kink, so I'd feel silly enumerating them one-by-one.  I mean, I won't eat a brick?  If anyone ever asks me to erotically eat a brick, I will not do that.

Maybe the ultimate hard limit for me is emotional pain.  I don't ever want play to hurt my heart.  I don't want a scene to ever intentionally make me feel worthless or abandoned or repellent.  I want my play to hurt, but I don't ever want it to truly hurt me.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Let's Read Fifty Shades of Grey: Chapter 19!

Last chapter Our Heroes had an ooky gynecologist appointment and a bunch of sex, and that was about it.  I always feel so indifferent and unaroused by the sex in this book.  It's like trying to read a sex scene starring Ted Bundy--even if the scene itself were great, the outside knowledge I have about these characters spoils any chance of it being erotic.

Content warnings for this chapter: Physical and emotional abuse, as always.  Child molestation, and Ana being a shit about it.  Eating disorders, somehow.  Horror movies, if that's a thing I need to warn for?

30 Days of Kink: Day 9.

Day 9: Post a kink related song or music video you enjoy.
I'm gonna have to go with this one (NSFW, obviously):

I like it because it's so goofy and unpolished and real.  The people and setting are what a lot of BDSM really looks like--a bunch of geeks in a building that looks more like a black box theater than a scary dungeon, mixing a lot of laughter and fun in with what they do.

Monday, June 16, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 8.

Day 8: Post a kinky image you find erotic.
I didn't want to just grab some porn image, so instead I went for the Overachiever Olympics and did an entire photoshoot of self-bondage.  Honestly, it didn't come out all that sexy-hot (to my tastes), but I'm still pleased with the results.

NSFW below.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 7.

Day 7: What's your favorite toy?

Is that cheating?  I feel like I'm trying to out-clever all these questions.  If it asked me my name I'd probably start into "does naming things give us the illusion we understand them?  is a name a real part of a thing?  if I have more than one name, am I still one person?" instead of saying my goddamn name.

A hand really is my favorite toy, though.  There's other toys I like, but this one is an impact toy, a sensation toy, and an insertable.  It's very easy to carry for travel and always ready to use.

I have a pretty formidable collection of floggers and restraints and dildos and evil sticks and whatnot.  They're lovely.  There's a lot of craftsmanship in them, the underground artistry of leather and steel and silicone.  These toys are beautiful and carry a lot of personal meaning and I'm very proud of them.  But when I feel a hand on me, I know it can feel me too.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 6.

Day 6: Describe your weirdest/most interesting sexual fantasy.
I've only ever had two sexual fantasies in my life.

Okay, I've had thousands, but they've all been installments in a long-running series, and I've only had two of those.  I switched around age 21; I don't remember the exact time or why I did.

The first one was softer and sweeter.  It was about a couple, a man and a woman (I can't tell you their names; for some reason that's one the part that feels too personal), who could travel between parallel universes.  They had found a little pocket universe that was all their own.  It was just a house, a big fancy villa with a courtyard and a pool and all the fixin's, and that was the entire universe.  And they fucked their way across the universe.

Their sexual discovery tracked with my own; they started off with just the glee of "we can touch these parts of each other?  that's a thing we can do?  WHOA" and then moved into more elaborate scenarios.  They were kinky, of course (the woman was dominant), but it was always in a soft sort of way.  It was a way they played around, but they were also in love and ended their scenes gently holding each other.

After about seven years of this, I abruptly switched tracks, and things got darker.  The couple in love went away, and instead, I imagined a single character at a time, very alone in their world.  There are several characters like this, male and female, and they're all sort of impersonalized. Their names are just letters of the alphabet.  Jay, Kay, Elle, Em, you get the idea.

They live full-time in a computer simulation created for the purposes of kinky sex.  Basically the Sex Matrix.  It allows them to do anything they want, with outlandish scenarios constructed on command, and without fear of harming their real bodies.  Some of the people they encounter in the simulation are other users, some are NPCs, and it's not always clear which is which.

The sex they have is extreme, ludicrously anal-focused, and... running up against that "somehow this is the part I find too personal" wall again.  But none of it is happening to their real bodies, and they can unplug themselves whenever they want, and... that makes it all okay, right?

Friday, June 13, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 4 and 5.

Day 4: Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks? 
Day 5: What was your first kinky sexual experience?  If you haven’t had one yet, talk about what you hope to have happen.
I'm putting these together because I think I answered Day 4 pretty well in the last entry.

Although I'll add one more: student films.  I got a film degree at a point in my life when I knew about kink, had already had kinky experiences, but at that particular point in my life I was mostly celibate.  (Not out of kink-guilt.  Partly because I'd just had a terrible breakup from a terrible relationship, partly because I didn't turn 18 and "legal" until halfway through my junior year, and partly because I had approximately zero social skills.)

I had no intention to make my final project kinky in any way.  It wasn't about my kinks.  It was just a horror film about a guy who joins a cult to try and raid their ill-gotten riches.  But the cult "initiates" him by torturing him.  A lot.  Creatively.  For most of the film.  There's an entirely excessive number of "wait, we have to initiate you some more" scenes in the film.  I figured I was just ramping up the horror, right?

...Oops.  In retrospect, oops.

(Content warnings for the next bit: Statutory rape, emotional abuse, legal system fuckery.)

Day 5 happened when I was 16 years old.  My boyfriend's parents were out of town for the weekend and we had the whole weekend and the whole house to ourselves, which is whoooa when you're 16.  (Well, I don't know about you.  It was for me.)  We walked around the house naked the entire weekend, which was amazingly sexual at the time, even if nowadays it usually just means I'm feeling lazy as hell.

We had sex a bunch of times, but the last time on Sunday night, I asked him to spank me.  I was all shy and stuff about it.  And he did.  He started out with little tippity-taps.  "No, I want you to spank me," I said.  So he wound up and did it for real, smacking me hard on the ass, over and over.  I went from "um please just a little um you know um" to "FUCK YEAH FUCKING SPANK ME THAT'S FUCKING RIGHT."  It was fantastic.  I didn't want it to end.  But when it did end, I tackled him and fucked the hell out of him.

That was the last time we had sex.*  The next morning the police were there.  My mom had reported me as a missing person, filed a restraining order against my boyfriend, canceled my scholarships and withdrawn me from my school.  (The first two because I hadn't come home when commanded so she told the cops I'd disappeared for a week, the second two because I had a B average.  GOD I LOVE BEING AN ADULT NOW.)  My life utterly fell apart and wouldn't be back together for more than a year, the abuse at home peaked from "bad" to "how did I survive that?", and even though the restraining order was not upheld in court, my boyfriend decided I was not worth this level of trouble.

In retrospect, he wasn't worth my trouble either--he was way too old to be dating a 16-year-old and didn't exactly make up for it by treating me well.  But that spanking.  I don't regret that.  That changed things.  Forever.

*We did have sex one more time a couple years later, but it was thoroughly mediocre and rekindled absolutely nothing. I'd kind of caught on that he wasn't such a spectacular person by that point.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 3.

Day 3: How did you discover you were kinky?
How did you discover you have arms?

I masturbated for a long time before I understood it was masturbation.  I knew that such a thing existed, but it was dirty and sleazy and desperate.  I didn't do anything like that.  All I did was touch myself between my legs and it felt nice, then felt really nice, then I didn't feel like doing it any more that night.

It was the same with kink.  There were things I knew fascinated me far before I could say "that's a sexual feeling."  I was eight years old, maybe six, way pre-puberty, and I would lie on the floor with my action figures making them play erotic games of capture, torture, and submission.

This goes back as far as I can remember.

(The mental image gets much better when I point out that I didn't have any matching sets of action figures.  So this generally involved Commander Data making an off-brand Power Ranger his slave, with the assistance of a Tyrannosaurus and a sentient pickup truck.)

I was about fourteen or fifteen when I started having unrestricted private access to the Internet, and more or less instantaneously I discovered kink and BDSM.  Of course, at the time I thought it was this fascinating but disreputable thing other people, disreputable people, did.  It took about a year for me to realize that my fascination was not academic and my fantasies were not unconnected. So I guess that's when I discovered I was kinky?  But it's really just when I discovered the name.  I already knew.

Let's Read Fifty Shades of Grey: Chapter 18!

It's baaaaaack.

When we last saw our heroes, Stud BeefThud had arranged a really weird gynecologist exam for Ana at his house, because he is rich in the creepiest possible way.

Content warnings for this chapter: Emotional and physical abuse, as always.  Casual misogyny.  Graphic BDSM and sex--I guess I'm pretty inconsistent in warning for that, because that applies to my entire blog and much of my life, but anyway, there's some in here.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 2.

 Day 2: List your kinks.
1. Butts
2. Butts
3. Buttttttsssss

With that out of the way... this one is difficult for me.  I've never really experienced sexuality as an itemized list of fetishes.  I can't say, like, "rope bondage, feet, having my nose tickled with an ostrich feather by a man dressed as my third grade teacher."  There's nothing so specific.

I'm more like "confronting the physicality of my own flesh," and that's great for poetry readings, not so much for actually figuring out what the fuck I'm going to do tonight.

I also say "I don't know yet; I'm still discovering" a lot.  I've been in the scene for, shit, seven years now, and I still feel like a newcomer when I see just how much is out there.  Or a kid in a candy shop, and I'm too caught up in "I want to try one of everything!" to start narrowing myself down.

And secretly, part of the reason I get all "I like almost everything, really I'm just into this for the philosophy" is that I do have some specific kinks, but I feel weirdly embarrassed and shy about them.  Like saying "I like to be dominated" is vague and sanitized enough to feel totally chill, but when I get too close to what really makes me squirm in my pants, saying "I like to get threatened that someone will shove a huge thing up my ass" gets uncomfortable.

Not so uncomfortable that I won't do it, though!  So, in no particular order:

1. Biting, punching, wrestling, and other forms of no-tools SM.  On a physical level I like flogging, but I liiiike skin-to-skin rough body play.

2. Things in my bum.  Like, a lot.  Like, I don't talk about this much because I know that if I get started I'm going to start sounding weird as it progresses from "oh yeah, anal sex, lots of people are into that" to "no, you don't understand, I would put a traffic cone in my ass if I could."

3. Related but not totally overlapping: the general concept of putting way too much phallic object in way too little orifice.  Again, it gets weird fast--I don't just mean "big dicks," I mean "...maybe two traffic cones."

4. Being held down and forced to do things, assuming that the things are exactly what I wanted to do anyway.  Inclusive of when I feel like doing them and who I want to do them with.  This all hinges on a very generous interpretation of the word "forced," obviously, but once we've established what exactly I want to be forced to do, the scene can get plenty rough.

5. Humiliation, but only in a specific way.  I don't want to be told that I'm useless; I want to be told that I'm useful, and the top will be using me now.  I like the feeling of being used.

It's weird how shy I felt about saying those things, and how "oh, is that all? that's not so bad at all" I feel having actually said them now.  Kind of a huge relief actually.

Next up: I'm finally getting back to Fifty Shades of Grey!

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

30 Days of Kink: Day 1.

I live!  I live!  I graduated nursing school, am still waiting for a test date for my boards, and I live!

I live, and I want to write again.  I've been writing every day on my tumblr, but that's not the same.  It's a big mishmash of puppy pictures and askboxes and stuff.  The Pervocracy is my real home on the Internet.

So, to get back in the swing of long-form non-puppy blogging, I'm doing a 30 Days of Kink challenge.  You can read all the questions here.

Day 1: Dom, sub, switch?  What parts of BDSM interest you?  Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.
I'm a bottom, an occasional switch, and harbor a deeply guarded but deeply treasured capacity for submission.

The kinky thing I do most often is get hit.  I like getting hit.  It’s such an OOMPH of a feeling, a sharp snap into the physical reality of my body, the tough meatiness of my muscles and fine-grained sensitivity of my nerves.

It’s also a challenge.  Because although I like getting hit, I don’t have much pain tolerance.  Sometimes that means we keep it light, more of a manhandling than a real beating, only hitting me hard enough to make a little noise but not enough to cause serious pain.  (This kind of play usually involves a lot of giggling.)

Other times I go into a subspace trance and enter an ecstatic altered state where pain don’t hurt.  This requires a lot of trust, because once I’m in that state my communication gets either garbled or absent, and I don’t have much sense of my own limits.  Feels so good though.

And other times, more rarely… I go past my pain tolerance.  I get to a level of pain that makes me think “I can’t possibly deal with this” and I deal with it.  I look at the pain head-on and transform its image in my mind into heat, into cold, into red, into simply nerves firing.  I find a moment when I can tolerate intolerable pain and I hold myself in that moment.  It’s not as sexy-fun as the other two ways of dealing with pain, but when I’ve done it, man, I feel good about myself.  Tolerating the intolerable, even for half a second, makes me feel like the champion of the goddamn world.

I know how to hit, too, and I get a little thrill, but it’s usually much less visceral.  The best times have been when I’ve been comfortable getting really physically into the bottom’s space—hitting someone while we were skin-to-skin, pressed together so close that I could feel every gasp and flinch, every time their muscles tensed or relaxed, every deep or shallow or ragged draw of breath.

As for submission… there lurk the things that still feel wrong.  Gloriously, tantalizingly wrong.  These are the kinks, that for me, still hold the delicious flavor of taboo.  The flavor, so hard to find as an adult, of sneaking out through the woods at night, of dirty comics under the mattress, of awkwardly sincere love poems hastily passed and quickly concealed.  These are the things that don’t make me feel like “you know, it’s just another way of experiencing pleasure…”; they make me feel like a god damn pervert.  I love them.