I recently read The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker. It's fascinating and valuable how-to book, offering techniques for protecting ourselves from violence. de Becker writes that the primary warning signal of danger ahead is the momentary feeling of fear. Not anxiety or suspicion, but actual fear. Too often we don't pay attention to fear because we're in a constant state of nervousness as it is, or we force the emotion away because it's impolite to take action on the basis of a hunch. This is a mistake. Predictive fear is based on a whole slew of subconscious observations, which we might dismiss if we attribute it to mere "intuition."
There have been a few occasions where I might have been in danger. When I was a college student, I lived in a ratty apartment in downtown Denver. One night I get a knock at my door. I open it. A big man is standing out in the hallway. He holds a Bowie-type knife in his hand. I'm surprised, and a little nervous. Big man. Stranger. Knife. Night. But I don't't feel a jolt of fear. I ask him, "Are you wanting to hurt me?" He says no. He then proceedes to vent about a fellow apartment dweller who was complaining that he'd been playing his Pow Wow music too loud. Afterwards the big man with the big knife goes back home. So why didn't I feel fear? There were plenty of clues that I was not in danger, and my brain was evidently processing them subconsciously. Like: The security system of the apartment pretty much meant he was a neighbor. So not some guy off the street. He was stoking his knife the entire time. My mind must have interpreted this stroking not as a threat, but as an upset guy handling a security blanket. His actions, his body language, the context, his voice, all made me believe he was just a lonely, scared man who was seeking friendly human contact. What didn't count was his answer to my question about if he was going to hurt me.
A few years later, I'm flying to San Jose for a job interview in Northern California. A young woman and I get to talking on the plane. She finds out I'm renting a car to head north. She asks me for a ride to city on the way. I say sure. As we're deplaning, she suddenly informs me she wants me to take on another passenger. She has a friend, a man, also on the plane. I'm surprised and uneasy. I pause to think about this new development, and she smiles at me. Her smile is wide, and meant to be reassuring. The smile says, "Trust me." I now feel true fear. Needless to say, I didn't let her, or her companion, in my rental car. It's possible that this couple wasn't dangerous at all. But I still think they were.
And this close call brings me to the topic of this post: What can The Gift of Fear, full of great advice for the vanilla world, offer a sub in the BDSM world? Clearly the concept of respecting your fear isn't all that relevant in the kink sphere, given that fear is the extra thrill attracting many to BDSM. So how can the knowledge in de Becker's book protect the submissive?
First, by analyzing the concept of "trust" rather than "fear".
de Becker describes, in detail, a group of signals that let you know you may be in danger. These signals are the intellectual (and often subconscious) underpinnings of the fear emotion. The vulnerable sub is going to have to study those signals in the context of trust, rather than fear. I'll write about two of de Becker's signals, but in relation to BDSM play.
Forced Teaming: Translated to the BDSM world, this is a manipulation to "force trust". A sub who responds to such manipulation is in grave danger. Here are a few examples: A Dom is "owed" trust. A Dom "deserves" trust. A Dom has "earned" trust. A Dom is "hurt" because there's not enough trust. A Dom is angry because there isn't enough trust. A Dom demands trust. A Dom claims there's a timetable for trust. Bullshit. To see how ridiculous these claims are, replace trust with the words "romantic love". Is someone owed romantic love? Is romantic love earned? Does romantic love have a timetable?
Trust, rather than love, is often the emotional currency of BDSM. Treat trust with respect, and expect your partner to do the same.
Discounting the word no: This concept obviously doesn't need recasting. I can't tell you how many times I've spoken to subs who played with someone who violated their limits or ignored their safeword. They're hurt and harmed. But after a promise to do better, they play with the same person again. And get into even worse trouble. There's no "three strikes and you're out" in BDSM. The kink game is a lot rougher and potentially more deadly than baseball. One strike is enough. Get outta there.
Unless it's by some mutually agreed-upon, in advance, mind-fuck or role-play scenario, "no means no" in BDSM, too.
Showing posts with label BDSM. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BDSM. Show all posts
To Serve or Not to Serve
The last few years brought a distinct change to this particular blood bank environment. It's a management issue. It starts with the receptionist. Recently, the receptionist glared up at me and asked, "Do you need something?" She acted as if I was a homeless person come to use the bathroom. I explained I was there to donate blood, which evidently she was not expecting. The bank was also not expecting a Bronco fan. I was ushered into another room where the walls were plastered with Steelers paraphernalia. The blood bank had become a mancave. I was stunned by the lack of professionalism.
The person who would do the blood draw was training another phlebotomist. The "experienced" phlebotomist started the training by taking an inkless pen to scratch my skin. "This is where I will take the blood," she told the new one. I was speechless. Who pre-injures like that? Then the "experienced" one started showing the other worker various pieces of equipment on the floor. The new phlebotomist, kneeling on the floor, kept brushing her head on my hand as she examined the equipment. I like to pet dogs and cats--but not strangers. I pulled my hand away, grossed out. The "experienced" phlebotomist then yelled at me for moving. Evidently, my scratched skin no longer acurately reflected the vein she had decided on. Luckily, the blood draw went okay. Except the phlebotomist pair had to go run off to have lunch so I never got the usual survey about my experience to take home. After donating, I sat at a table to drink cranberry juice, have some snacks and read the newspaper. A different worker (the Steeler's fan?) came over to me and said, "Is there something I can help you with?" Again I was a homeless person. This time I'd wandered in the blood bank and was stealing food. I ignored her, seriously annoyed. She grabbed my peanut wrapper from the table and huffed off.
This sequential hostility and lack of professionalism had an impact. I was reluctant to donate again. I stalled for months. I finally convinced myself the world needed my (rather ordinary) blood. I vowed that if at any point I was mistreated I would walk out.
So I returned to the blood bank a few weeks ago. Unfortunately. So I showed the phlebotomist where I normally get a draw. She ignored my suggestion. Instead she said she'd found a vein she liked better. She summarily stuck the needle in the crook of my elbow. I felt a horrible sting travel from my arm all the way down to my hand. I nearly fainted. In all the years of donation, I had never felt anything like that. I told her it really hurt. She did nothing. She didn't reposition the needle at all. She merely asked me if it was feeling better. I went through the donation in pain. I shouldn't have. Because she injured a nerve.
Nerve injuries take a long time to heal. If they ever do. For more than 10 days, my hand alternated between numbness and sparking electrical pain. The weakness in my hand was so profound that I couldn't even grasp a fork to cut meat. I couldn't fold clothes, dance, put away dishes, make beds. I couldn't lift anything. Everything took twice as long.
It's been almost three weeks and the nerve still hasn't grown back completely. My hand strength is back though, making my life easier, but I still have residual pain and numbness in my hand. I won't be donating blood there again.
I think there's an attitude by some organizations that carelessness toward volunteers is just fine. They believe that volunteers have a such a strong need for service that merely satisfying that need is good enough. It's not. It's true that I enjoy service, there are plenty of other ways I can volunteer. My ordinary blood will be appreciated somewhere else.
This holds a lesson for BDSM practitioners. Service and submission may be an intense need, but that desire shouldn't be abused. The sub can easily find somebody else to serve.
BDSM Collars: Definitions
The BDSM collar is a symbol of being owned. Collars are often described as the BDSM analogue of a wedding ring. Certainly, a collar can indicate a strong level of commitment and care, but it doesn't have to. Just like the concept of slavery, ownership means different things to different people.
Sometimes an owner will hold a formal collaring ceremony, with friends and family as witnesses. More often it's private. And once in awhile a collaring is completely virtual. These collaring rituals can be romantic, crude or beyond gross, just like the people involved. Sometimes Master and slave will just spontaneously go off collar shopping.
A catty term that's used frequently by BDSM practitioners is the “Velcro collar”. A Velcro collar snaps off and on quickly. It's a contemptuous phrase describing a collar for folks who don't take the whole relationship thing seriously, and hop from one interaction to the another. A Velcro collar is quite different from a "play collar", which is a fun toy for Master/slave roleplay.
Another sort of collar is the "collar of consideration". This jewelry marks out ownership territory without any ownership commitment. The collar is supposed to scare off other suitors. It has nothing in common with an engagement ring. It's not a promise. It's a plan B, while the potential Master looks for a better slave. I don't respect people who resort to (or consent to) such nonsense.
An acquaintance of mine was looking to be owned, and was speaking to a potential Master in another city. He wanted to temporarily mark her as his, just in case she turned out to be good enough. He ordered her to wear a "collar of consideration" before she went to a BDSM event. And he even demanded that she get her own! She made her collar out of twine and ribbon. She was mighty proud of it. But I thought the guy was rotten and lazy. Needless to say, that relationship didn't progress very far.
A Master who wants the status of a collared slave but doesn't care enough about the symbolism to actually supply a collar, is telling the world loud and clear how well he'll treat her when she's well and truly owned.
The collar pictured above is available online from the Chain Gang.
BDSM Books for Writers
Given the the popularity of the Fifty Shades books, I started to wonder if more romance writers will jump on the BDSM bandwagon. If so, how will these folks do research? Will these authors, like EL James, just use the internet? Or will they buy and read "BDSM for authors who don't know much about BDSM" books?
I've already mentioned Tymber Dalton's book Whip Me, Beat Me, Make Me Write Hot Sex in a previous post. (In related news, Tymber has recently published a marketing book Pimp Yourself: Easy, Painless, and Cheap Self-Promotion for Writers).
BDSM for Writers by Charley Ferrer is also a potential resource. Ferrer tells us "It's imperative to understand that BDSM is a distinct community with its own belief system and even its own psychological make-up." This grand statement is intended to establish her authority in BDSM matters. It's also wildly incorrect. Kink folk don't take a certification class in order to call themselves BDSM practitioners. They are not a mono-culture. BDSMers are just as inhomogenous as the rest of society. I suspect such simplifications may be a general problem with "BDSM for authors who don't know much about BDSM" books. In reality, one person can't explain everything about BDSM. Not the belief system, not the psychology. That usually makes writing BDSM fiction guides pretentious or defensive. Or both.
I was pretty interested when The ABC's of BDSM by Dama deNoche came out. This book is not meant for writers. Officially anyway. It's a sort of dictionary, wherein various BDSM terms are defined. I downloaded a sample--getting all the A's and midway through the Bs.
I don't review BDSM fiction in this blog, because I consider it a conflict of interest. But I'm okay with reviewing non-fiction. So here's a review of the sample. (Is it fair to review just part of a book? Maybe not. But the abc's aren't intrinsically biased, and there's no true climax and resolution in a dictionary. )
The ABC's of BDSM starts out with a forward which refers to the "Lifestyle". Guide books use the lifestyle term all the time. I've blogged about my objections to it. In my opinion, it's an example of pretension: everyone's doing the same thing and lives the same way, and the way BDSMers live is important enough to be capitalized.
Now to the dictionary--at least up until the middle of the b's. There are indeed many relevant entries in the sample: anal play, aftercare, bondage. The emotional content is, unfortunately, missing. The book gives a dry recounting of what's what. Not the whys. Why does the bottom get a charge out of immobility in bondage? What does the Top get out of tying someone up? No answers in this book.
The weirdest thing about deNoche's book (partway through the B's at least) is a rather long explication of Bestiality. She points out that "the human and the dog can be physically harmed during the sex act even if they are trying to be careful and safe." Most of us, Lifestylers included, would not classify bestiality as a part of BDSM. Neither would they think a dog is capable of being "careful and safe." To her credit, she does admit that consensuality is absent in these interactions.
Books on writing BDSM don't sell as well as general writing books like The Elements of Style by Strunk and White, or Stephen King's On Writing. That could mean that most writers unfamiliar with BDSM use the internet as a research partner. That's probably not such a bad thing--if the research includes investigating the emotional aspects of kink. There are many intimate, highly moving blogs by practitioners on the web.
Another option for BDSM writers is to read guide books for BDSMers. I'd recommend books by Jay Wiseman, Dossie Easton, and John and Libby Warren.
I've already mentioned Tymber Dalton's book Whip Me, Beat Me, Make Me Write Hot Sex in a previous post. (In related news, Tymber has recently published a marketing book Pimp Yourself: Easy, Painless, and Cheap Self-Promotion for Writers).
BDSM for Writers by Charley Ferrer is also a potential resource. Ferrer tells us "It's imperative to understand that BDSM is a distinct community with its own belief system and even its own psychological make-up." This grand statement is intended to establish her authority in BDSM matters. It's also wildly incorrect. Kink folk don't take a certification class in order to call themselves BDSM practitioners. They are not a mono-culture. BDSMers are just as inhomogenous as the rest of society. I suspect such simplifications may be a general problem with "BDSM for authors who don't know much about BDSM" books. In reality, one person can't explain everything about BDSM. Not the belief system, not the psychology. That usually makes writing BDSM fiction guides pretentious or defensive. Or both.
I was pretty interested when The ABC's of BDSM by Dama deNoche came out. This book is not meant for writers. Officially anyway. It's a sort of dictionary, wherein various BDSM terms are defined. I downloaded a sample--getting all the A's and midway through the Bs.I don't review BDSM fiction in this blog, because I consider it a conflict of interest. But I'm okay with reviewing non-fiction. So here's a review of the sample. (Is it fair to review just part of a book? Maybe not. But the abc's aren't intrinsically biased, and there's no true climax and resolution in a dictionary. )
The ABC's of BDSM starts out with a forward which refers to the "Lifestyle". Guide books use the lifestyle term all the time. I've blogged about my objections to it. In my opinion, it's an example of pretension: everyone's doing the same thing and lives the same way, and the way BDSMers live is important enough to be capitalized.
Now to the dictionary--at least up until the middle of the b's. There are indeed many relevant entries in the sample: anal play, aftercare, bondage. The emotional content is, unfortunately, missing. The book gives a dry recounting of what's what. Not the whys. Why does the bottom get a charge out of immobility in bondage? What does the Top get out of tying someone up? No answers in this book.
The weirdest thing about deNoche's book (partway through the B's at least) is a rather long explication of Bestiality. She points out that "the human and the dog can be physically harmed during the sex act even if they are trying to be careful and safe." Most of us, Lifestylers included, would not classify bestiality as a part of BDSM. Neither would they think a dog is capable of being "careful and safe." To her credit, she does admit that consensuality is absent in these interactions.
Books on writing BDSM don't sell as well as general writing books like The Elements of Style by Strunk and White, or Stephen King's On Writing. That could mean that most writers unfamiliar with BDSM use the internet as a research partner. That's probably not such a bad thing--if the research includes investigating the emotional aspects of kink. There are many intimate, highly moving blogs by practitioners on the web.
Another option for BDSM writers is to read guide books for BDSMers. I'd recommend books by Jay Wiseman, Dossie Easton, and John and Libby Warren.
Are Safewords Really Safe?
Safewords are a formal way for the bottom to stop BDSM play. They add to the kinky mystique and drama, like contracts or other forms of protocol. Safewords might be used when "Stop, you muthafucka!" isn't considered cool enough. The most commonly used safeword is "red."
However, it's worth noting that a safeword is only as safe as the integrity of the Top. A safeword isn't safe if the Top doesn't respond correctly to it.
A safeword is not a magic incantation. It's not a "Beam me up Scotty, this scene sucks." Too often, bottoms are persuaded to engage in dangerous play because they get a safeword. And too often, the safeword is not honored. (Or the bottom can't use the safeword because the bottom is in subspace or gagged or whatnot.) How does this happen? A bottom can get into this predicament because he or she is expected to show "good faith" by trusting a Top. That's ass backwards. Trust is earned. Always. Anyone can call himself (or herself) a Top (or Master or Dom). That doesn't mean he or she actually has the bottom's best interests at heart.
I think safewords, though glamorous, are superfluous. They add a layer of danger, rather than safety, to BDSM interactions. A Top should know the bottom well enough to figure out when they have had too much. A Top should be able to read expression or sounds. Or a Top could even use ordinary, pedestrian communication.
If your Top is a person you really don't know well, and needs a glitzy form of "stop", you should reconsider playing with that person.
However, it's worth noting that a safeword is only as safe as the integrity of the Top. A safeword isn't safe if the Top doesn't respond correctly to it.
A safeword is not a magic incantation. It's not a "Beam me up Scotty, this scene sucks." Too often, bottoms are persuaded to engage in dangerous play because they get a safeword. And too often, the safeword is not honored. (Or the bottom can't use the safeword because the bottom is in subspace or gagged or whatnot.) How does this happen? A bottom can get into this predicament because he or she is expected to show "good faith" by trusting a Top. That's ass backwards. Trust is earned. Always. Anyone can call himself (or herself) a Top (or Master or Dom). That doesn't mean he or she actually has the bottom's best interests at heart.
I think safewords, though glamorous, are superfluous. They add a layer of danger, rather than safety, to BDSM interactions. A Top should know the bottom well enough to figure out when they have had too much. A Top should be able to read expression or sounds. Or a Top could even use ordinary, pedestrian communication.
If your Top is a person you really don't know well, and needs a glitzy form of "stop", you should reconsider playing with that person.
Fifty Shades of Fanfic
The publication of fan fiction in fantasy and SF is nothing new. There are zillions of Star Trek books and short story collections, for example. Such fanfic stories are published with permission of the copyright owners.
But what about underground fanfic? A striking example would be "slash" fiction. Spock and Kirk become lovers. Seven of Nine hooks up with Captain Janeway. These stories are obviously not part of the Star Trek canon. But the Trek copyright holders will put up with slash fiction because the tales are intended for private, non-commercial purposes.
Fifty Shades of Grey by EL James is an interesting example of non-canonical fanfic being published for profit. This story has its origins in Twilight fanfic. The serial novel was then Master of the Universe, and the characters were named Edward and Bella. The chapters have since been collated and edited, and the names changed. Although the Kindle version is a whopping 9.95, it's selling very well.
I haven't read the Twilight books, nor have I read Fifty Shades, so I can't comment on the originality of the characters or plot. Clearly, fanfic can be so completely removed from the original characters and universe that the base story is merely a jumping off point. It goes without saying that Stephenie Meyer hasn't given permission for EL James to play in her universe. Stephenie never will. Because Fifty Shades is BDSM erotica.
Edward, now called Christian, is not a vampire. He's not a high school kid either, but a powerful business mogul. He's also a Dominant looking for a submissive. The vampire has been supplanted by the sadist. This is a valid replacement. Blood sucking in fiction has a lot in common with BDSM: pain and pleasure are combined, and offering blood can be considered the ultimate service.
Fifty Shades, irrespective of its origins, could well introduce a whole new set of readers to BDSM fiction. One reviewer says it's "an educational introduction to BDSM literature." I hope this book does kink justice.
But what about underground fanfic? A striking example would be "slash" fiction. Spock and Kirk become lovers. Seven of Nine hooks up with Captain Janeway. These stories are obviously not part of the Star Trek canon. But the Trek copyright holders will put up with slash fiction because the tales are intended for private, non-commercial purposes.
Fifty Shades of Grey by EL James is an interesting example of non-canonical fanfic being published for profit. This story has its origins in Twilight fanfic. The serial novel was then Master of the Universe, and the characters were named Edward and Bella. The chapters have since been collated and edited, and the names changed. Although the Kindle version is a whopping 9.95, it's selling very well.
I haven't read the Twilight books, nor have I read Fifty Shades, so I can't comment on the originality of the characters or plot. Clearly, fanfic can be so completely removed from the original characters and universe that the base story is merely a jumping off point. It goes without saying that Stephenie Meyer hasn't given permission for EL James to play in her universe. Stephenie never will. Because Fifty Shades is BDSM erotica.
Edward, now called Christian, is not a vampire. He's not a high school kid either, but a powerful business mogul. He's also a Dominant looking for a submissive. The vampire has been supplanted by the sadist. This is a valid replacement. Blood sucking in fiction has a lot in common with BDSM: pain and pleasure are combined, and offering blood can be considered the ultimate service.
Fifty Shades, irrespective of its origins, could well introduce a whole new set of readers to BDSM fiction. One reviewer says it's "an educational introduction to BDSM literature." I hope this book does kink justice.
What is a Strong Submissive?
I've been thinking a bit about the definition of a "strong submissive", especially when it refers to the female in a D/s relationship. The phrase seems like an oxymoron: how can a submissive be strong?
In some circles, a strong submissive means the woman is long-suffering. She puts up with all manner of indignities. She is durable only in the sense that she survives. This type of strong submissive is pretty much the same thing as a martyr. Or, in more modern terms, she is a doormat.
Another definition of strong submissive is found in the fictional world. The archetype is a cheeky chick who challenges the Dom to "break her". Although resistant at first, this spunky woman is finally convinced by the Dominant to submit. And the D/s couple has way hot sex and they live happily ever after. This is a popular and fun theme. It's not terribly realistic, though. Most men would just find a more compatible submissive.
In idealized real-life BDSM, a strong submissive is an accomplished, secure woman who acknowledges one special man is worthy of being served. She is is not submissive to the outside world, just to him. The Dominant values his extraordinary woman, and supports her continued achievements and growth. This idealized version of BDSM easily allows for feminism.
D/s couples will often romanticize their relationship, claiming that the Dominant adores having a strong submissive. It's been my experience that it's rarely true. Few Dominant men are accomplished and secure enough to value an exceptional woman--even if she cedes her authority to him.
Photo attribution: From the cover of "Gang Girl" by Wenzell Brown.
Sub Frenzy and Non-Con Erotica
Kitty Thomas is an author who writes fiction featuring non-consensual BDSM. She was interviewed on The Forbidden Bookshelf Blog a few months ago. I've been stewing ever since. In this blog post I’m going to respond to Kitty's interview, and discuss what’s wrong with kidnap and rape BDSM stories.
First, Kitty says:
Then Kitty constructs a straw man to justify writing non-con:
When a new submissive discovers the world of BDSM, (often through reading erotica like Kitty's), she can be overcome with excitement. She longs to experience the intense emotions in those stories. She wants more and more, and she wants it now. This vulnerable state of mind, (or lack of mind), is termed “sub frenzy”. A frenzied novice sub will take foolish risks, discarding common sense. She won’t vet who she’ll be playing with, she’ll fall for the “you aren’t a real submissive if…” and she won’t understand that it is her responsibility to insure her own safety. Frenzy, supported by fictional extreme BDSM scenarios, can lead to serious harm to the submissive.
Non-con fiction glamorizes assault and imprisonment in the same way that war stories idealize battle. The real experience is far different than the fantasy. I believe it's negligent to romanticize kidnap and rape as sensible BDSM.
Finally, Kitty asserts:
It's about safety.
First, Kitty says:
The rape fantasy is the number-one female sexual fantasy.The number one female sexual fantasy is to be desired, not raped. Rape and desire are not the same thing--even in fiction. It's a big leap to conclude that readers who enjoy non-con erotica actually fantasize about being raped.
Then Kitty constructs a straw man to justify writing non-con:
A lot of people don't like rape fantasy in fiction because it "sends the wrong message". But I think that's just insane. No rapist is curling up with harlequin novels, bodice rippers, and kinky erotica to "justify" being a monster.Rapists being inspired by rape erotica is not the only possible reason for objecting to non-con. In fact, I don’t believe non-con is dangerous because it arouses men. It's dangerous because it arouses women. Here's why:
When a new submissive discovers the world of BDSM, (often through reading erotica like Kitty's), she can be overcome with excitement. She longs to experience the intense emotions in those stories. She wants more and more, and she wants it now. This vulnerable state of mind, (or lack of mind), is termed “sub frenzy”. A frenzied novice sub will take foolish risks, discarding common sense. She won’t vet who she’ll be playing with, she’ll fall for the “you aren’t a real submissive if…” and she won’t understand that it is her responsibility to insure her own safety. Frenzy, supported by fictional extreme BDSM scenarios, can lead to serious harm to the submissive.
Non-con fiction glamorizes assault and imprisonment in the same way that war stories idealize battle. The real experience is far different than the fantasy. I believe it's negligent to romanticize kidnap and rape as sensible BDSM.
Finally, Kitty asserts:
A lot of the BDSM books being written now are being written by non-kinky authors for a non-kinky audience. So, if you aren't kinky and you find my fiction uncomfortable, please, just read something else. You have plenty of fuzzy handcuffs and safewords books to read. But those of us who like non-con kink fiction have far fewer books to choose from because of all the people who decided to go on a crusade to control what people are allowed to even think about.Offering an opinion about non-con fiction isn’t the same thing as mind control or censorship. Nobody is on a crusade; non-con authors are not being victimized. It's an opinion. And finally, writing fiction with safewords (or fuzzy handcuffs) also doesn’t wipe out the author’s kink cred. Not unless a story with condoms is proof positive that the author is a virgin.
It's about safety.
Is BDSM Really a Lifestyle?
I say no.
A lifestyle is the way you live. It's a thread that runs through every part of your life: You eat it and sleep it. A lifestyle is both an environment and a mindset.
Most people live a life, not a lifestyle. That's true for kinky folk, too. With rare exceptions, BDSM is just a way of interacting, a sensual hobby, a sexual game. But saying "we live the BDSM lifestyle," sounds hipper, more alt, more extreme, than "We enjoy BDSM activities". The expression lends extra drama to a part-time endeavor.
Indeed, the "BDSM lifestyle" phrase is generally overkill; it's also pretentious and "cooler than thou."
Nobody ever says they live a "parenting lifestyle", although life changes drastically when you become a parent.
It's time to drop the "BDSM lifestyle" expression.
A lifestyle is the way you live. It's a thread that runs through every part of your life: You eat it and sleep it. A lifestyle is both an environment and a mindset.
Most people live a life, not a lifestyle. That's true for kinky folk, too. With rare exceptions, BDSM is just a way of interacting, a sensual hobby, a sexual game. But saying "we live the BDSM lifestyle," sounds hipper, more alt, more extreme, than "We enjoy BDSM activities". The expression lends extra drama to a part-time endeavor.
Indeed, the "BDSM lifestyle" phrase is generally overkill; it's also pretentious and "cooler than thou."
Nobody ever says they live a "parenting lifestyle", although life changes drastically when you become a parent.
It's time to drop the "BDSM lifestyle" expression.
Mainstreaming BDSM
How much does a song like Rihanna's S & M help the kink community? Does her art give BDSM greater exposure--and therefore more acceptance? Or is the song nothing but glamorous sleaze wrapped up in fake relevance?
I think it's the latter. It's tough to take this song seriously. A line like "whips and chains excite me," is just plain silly. These words don't describe a relationship, just a masturbatory fantasy. The accompanying S & M video is truly awful. (It's so bad, I refuse to supply a link to it). The production is amateur, with gratuitous strobe effects, and psychedelic camera angles. Even worse, you've got a grinning Perez Hilton on a leash, lifting his leg at a fire hydrant. The rest of this repetitious mess is a collection of cliche fetish images. Rihanna's posing and gyration does not reflect anything substantial about sadomasochism or BDSM.
And it's too bad. Rihanna's Rude Boy lyrics, for example, are actually far more evocative of kink reality:
Happily, there is a development in the popularization of BDSM that is significant. Colter's Daughter, an erotic romance by Maya Banks, is on the NYT e-book bestseller list. This novel has D/s themes. Yay on Maya!
I think it's the latter. It's tough to take this song seriously. A line like "whips and chains excite me," is just plain silly. These words don't describe a relationship, just a masturbatory fantasy. The accompanying S & M video is truly awful. (It's so bad, I refuse to supply a link to it). The production is amateur, with gratuitous strobe effects, and psychedelic camera angles. Even worse, you've got a grinning Perez Hilton on a leash, lifting his leg at a fire hydrant. The rest of this repetitious mess is a collection of cliche fetish images. Rihanna's posing and gyration does not reflect anything substantial about sadomasochism or BDSM.
And it's too bad. Rihanna's Rude Boy lyrics, for example, are actually far more evocative of kink reality:
I like the way you touch me there.I believe the song S & M is intended to court controversy in order to sell songs. There's no social awareness program going on.
I like the way you pull my hair.
Happily, there is a development in the popularization of BDSM that is significant. Colter's Daughter, an erotic romance by Maya Banks, is on the NYT e-book bestseller list. This novel has D/s themes. Yay on Maya!
BDSM Fiction: The Hair of the Dog that Bit You
The “sexual healing” story is a common romance trope. A mistreated heroine leaves her rotten man to find a better one. The new man’s love transforms her. BDSM romances can also follow this plotline. My One sort of does. This story is a kinky twist on Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Briony leaves a cheating man and ends up exploring three new relationships: too hard, too soft and just right. The theme of the novella is the wide range of BDSM interactions. The idea is underscored by sprinkling the tale with introduction letters from suitors.
One of Briony's bears is her old friend Sterling, a glamorous sadist. Many readers are bothered by this relationship. I evidently did not do a good job illustrating that the dalliance between Briony and Sterling was consensual. I also failed to make clear the fulfillment she got from the interaction: subspace, pride in serving, and excitement. Ultimately Sterling wasn’t the right mate for Briony, but she was never a victim. The DM hero’s response to her relationship with Sterling may have prejudiced some folks. But the good DM’s protective reaction was not reliable: he was in love with her.
But what about BDSM stories in which the heroine is truly a victim? Here the “sexual healing” plot has the heroine leaving a bad Master because of BDSM-style abuse. Ultimately she is saved by a “good” Master, who teaches her the true meaning of BDSM. I hate these stories. The line between BDSM and abuse is already tissue thin. Why utterly shred that barrier by bad fiction?
Writers of BDSM sexual healing stories don't care about the subculture they misrepresent. Because, hey, that plot provides plenty of drama, and generates sympathy for the poor victim. Which translates into book sales. But this melodramatic story device is a cheap emotional trick. The plot requires the bad Master’s abuse to be so outrageous that it’s just plain insane. Not only does it portray Masters as crazy and evil, it makes slaves look helpless, without common sense or desire for self-preservation. The underlying message is BDSM is crazy and evil.
Ultimately the new Master and abused slave have to fall in love in these tales. But how? BDSM is bad! Resolution of this paradox involves a magical switcheroo. BDSM must suddenly morph from abusive to romantic. The new Master must be cut from more noble cloth. The damaged slave must trust the new man and give consent. Consent by an abused person is supposed to be possible--and ethical. Finally the reader must not view the Master as a predator--but as a savior. In order to provide the maximum contrast between bad Master and good Master, the new relationship often ends up being sweet, a watered-down, fakey sort of BDSM, with lots of cute protocol and symbolic accoutrements of BDSM, but no true emotion.
These stories do not do real-life BDSM much good.
For a lively and interesting discussion of two BDSM sexual healing stories, see Dear Author.
One of Briony's bears is her old friend Sterling, a glamorous sadist. Many readers are bothered by this relationship. I evidently did not do a good job illustrating that the dalliance between Briony and Sterling was consensual. I also failed to make clear the fulfillment she got from the interaction: subspace, pride in serving, and excitement. Ultimately Sterling wasn’t the right mate for Briony, but she was never a victim. The DM hero’s response to her relationship with Sterling may have prejudiced some folks. But the good DM’s protective reaction was not reliable: he was in love with her.
But what about BDSM stories in which the heroine is truly a victim? Here the “sexual healing” plot has the heroine leaving a bad Master because of BDSM-style abuse. Ultimately she is saved by a “good” Master, who teaches her the true meaning of BDSM. I hate these stories. The line between BDSM and abuse is already tissue thin. Why utterly shred that barrier by bad fiction?
Writers of BDSM sexual healing stories don't care about the subculture they misrepresent. Because, hey, that plot provides plenty of drama, and generates sympathy for the poor victim. Which translates into book sales. But this melodramatic story device is a cheap emotional trick. The plot requires the bad Master’s abuse to be so outrageous that it’s just plain insane. Not only does it portray Masters as crazy and evil, it makes slaves look helpless, without common sense or desire for self-preservation. The underlying message is BDSM is crazy and evil.
Ultimately the new Master and abused slave have to fall in love in these tales. But how? BDSM is bad! Resolution of this paradox involves a magical switcheroo. BDSM must suddenly morph from abusive to romantic. The new Master must be cut from more noble cloth. The damaged slave must trust the new man and give consent. Consent by an abused person is supposed to be possible--and ethical. Finally the reader must not view the Master as a predator--but as a savior. In order to provide the maximum contrast between bad Master and good Master, the new relationship often ends up being sweet, a watered-down, fakey sort of BDSM, with lots of cute protocol and symbolic accoutrements of BDSM, but no true emotion.
These stories do not do real-life BDSM much good.
For a lively and interesting discussion of two BDSM sexual healing stories, see Dear Author.
How Do I Convert My Vanilla Mate?
This question is frequently posted on collarme, a BDSM site I belong to. Asking some strangers on the Internet to provide a road map to kinkify a conventional partner implies there’s a magic bullet. There isn't. It's way hard. Every relationship, be it vanilla or kink, is specific and unique to those particular partners. The answer to the conversion question is as complex as the people involved.
Sometimes I’ll reply to these posts with general suggestions on how to "turn" a partner, because I’ve done it. Here's the difficulty: Success in kinkification takes character attributes nearly as scarce as that mythical magic bullet: patience and empathy and flexibility. And even with those traits, turning may never work. When I offer this advice on collarme, the response is often hostile. Conversion is supposed to be easy.
I also know what not to do. Here are the most common mistakes:
1. Entitlement. (“I want what I want. I’m more important than you.”) Good luck with that approach.
2. Bullying. (“This is what I want. Give it to me”). That’s a sure way to force the end of the relationship, or maybe even get a surprise visit by the cops.
3. Martyrdom. (“If you loved me, you would…”) Manipulation doesn’t work in the long run.
4. Childish tantrums and ultimatums. (“I refuse to live the rest my life as a vanilla.”) Be careful what you wish for.
Initiating "turning" requires small, slow steps. Perhaps your mate is curious about a particular action? Maybe your partner is motivated by your excitement, or the naughty danger? Your mate must be the leader in the first explorations. Offer a multitude of options, be a gentle guide. What fantasies does your partner have? Role-play? Bondage? Indulge them. Make it fun and sexy. And most of all, appreciate his or her efforts.
The Dominant Trainer
One of the stock heroes in BDSM fiction is the male Dominant who has "trained lots of subs." His background is usually a throwaway one, like describing a fictional hero as rich, without actually presenting a tabulation of his true net worth. Training experience is supposed to give the hero kink cred: such a Dom has to be really good at what he does. His Domliness is so overwhelming that he'll show the BDSM virginal heroine (and presumably the BDSM virginal reader) a great time.
Okay. In real life, a Dominant's creativity is usually valued more than his experience, so what does having "trained a lot of subs" really mean?
If a Dominant has had a lot of subs, that's different than having trained a lot of subs. Ethical "training" means private teaching, like conducting workshops on some aspect of BDSM. Here the Dom teacher is a friend of the sub. Being principled, this trainer Dom does not have authority over the sub--or else it is a D/s relationship, not a trainer-trainee relationship. It goes without saying that this interaction cannot involve sex--or even real emotional involvement. The Dom is charged with training a sub, not his sub. Altruism is the ethical trainer's only reward.
But can you really train people? I think not. You train animals. The processes, mechanics, protocols and emotions involved in kink are normally far more complex than commands to sit or roll over. And they are highly specific to the couple. Subs and Doms cannot be interchanged: mixing and matching of people is a crazy concept. What might please the ethical trainer has no bearing on what will float the boat of another Dom.
The idea of a special school where Dominants train submissives or slaves is alluring. The Story of O, by Pauline Reage, and the Marketplace Series by Laura Antoniou are prominent fictional examples. But the dynamic is fantasy. No one can train somebody to be another person's worthy submissive. There is no universal BDSM rule book that can prepare a sub for a different (and future) BDSM relationship.
Unhappily, the fantasy of "sub training" sneaks into real life, ensnaring the innocent. There are plenty of self-described Dominants in the community who offer to "train subs". These men are not interested in training anyone. All they really want is to "get some". A supposed Dom who brags about having "trained a lot of subs" is the BDSM equivalent of a man claiming he's "fucked a lot of women." Suddenly "training" goes from darkly forbidden and dramatic to just plain slimy.
There are better ways for a curious newbie to get some face-to-face individual help. For example, one good choice is to ask an experienced sub or slave to mentor her. Begging a Dominant for private lessons on how to be a sub is asking for trouble; even an ethical Dom has a potential conflict of interest.
There's a clever April Fool's joke on Etsy (a kind of online artist's colony) now. This Etsy shop, called To be Read, is owned by the prestigious Dear Author review site. The shop offers to "sell" handmade, one-of-a-kind book reviews. An A review is way cheaper than an F review. It's especially funny if you're familiar with Etsy. Dear Author Etsy. Since the shop will probably disappear May 1, I offer this link, too: Cached Dear Author Etsy
Okay. In real life, a Dominant's creativity is usually valued more than his experience, so what does having "trained a lot of subs" really mean?
If a Dominant has had a lot of subs, that's different than having trained a lot of subs. Ethical "training" means private teaching, like conducting workshops on some aspect of BDSM. Here the Dom teacher is a friend of the sub. Being principled, this trainer Dom does not have authority over the sub--or else it is a D/s relationship, not a trainer-trainee relationship. It goes without saying that this interaction cannot involve sex--or even real emotional involvement. The Dom is charged with training a sub, not his sub. Altruism is the ethical trainer's only reward.
But can you really train people? I think not. You train animals. The processes, mechanics, protocols and emotions involved in kink are normally far more complex than commands to sit or roll over. And they are highly specific to the couple. Subs and Doms cannot be interchanged: mixing and matching of people is a crazy concept. What might please the ethical trainer has no bearing on what will float the boat of another Dom.
The idea of a special school where Dominants train submissives or slaves is alluring. The Story of O, by Pauline Reage, and the Marketplace Series by Laura Antoniou are prominent fictional examples. But the dynamic is fantasy. No one can train somebody to be another person's worthy submissive. There is no universal BDSM rule book that can prepare a sub for a different (and future) BDSM relationship.
Unhappily, the fantasy of "sub training" sneaks into real life, ensnaring the innocent. There are plenty of self-described Dominants in the community who offer to "train subs". These men are not interested in training anyone. All they really want is to "get some". A supposed Dom who brags about having "trained a lot of subs" is the BDSM equivalent of a man claiming he's "fucked a lot of women." Suddenly "training" goes from darkly forbidden and dramatic to just plain slimy.
There are better ways for a curious newbie to get some face-to-face individual help. For example, one good choice is to ask an experienced sub or slave to mentor her. Begging a Dominant for private lessons on how to be a sub is asking for trouble; even an ethical Dom has a potential conflict of interest.
There's a clever April Fool's joke on Etsy (a kind of online artist's colony) now. This Etsy shop, called To be Read, is owned by the prestigious Dear Author review site. The shop offers to "sell" handmade, one-of-a-kind book reviews. An A review is way cheaper than an F review. It's especially funny if you're familiar with Etsy. Dear Author Etsy. Since the shop will probably disappear May 1, I offer this link, too: Cached Dear Author Etsy
Duty of BDSM Authors?
Do authors of contemporary BDSM fiction have a duty to promote a rational view of BDSM practices?
I say yes.
BDSM practioners are pretty much misunderstood by society, and as a result, are largely underground. The common view of kinksters as dangerous, crazy perverts isn't harmless bias. Such prejudices can have real-life consequences, like loss of child custody and so on. Authors shouldn't promulgate it.
How is a contemporary erotica author, who has little familiarity with BDSM, supposed to write reasonably about kink? Some folks might say, "Don't. Don't write it if you don't understand it." And that would be a short blog entry. Another option is for the author to earnestly attempt to appreciate the term SSC. SSC stands for Safe, Sane and Consensual. It's an ethical framework, a kind of a moral code used by many people involved in BDSM. I'll describe each part in turn.
Safe. That means safe sex. As in condom use. It's not too hard for an author to write a hot sex scene preceded by the sound of a crinkling condom foil. Contemporary romance writers do it all the time. BDSM authors--not so much.
Sane. That means fictional characters don't do things to each other that will kill or permanently injure. Quite a lot of leniency is allowed in BDSM fiction in the name of titillation. After all, it is fiction. But if the author goes to far, it becomes dangerous fantasy.
Consensual. This is one big hot button for me. Consent means characters agree to treat each other in an agreed-upon way. Contemporary BDSM erotica often falls short in this arena. Instead of actually understanding the idea of consent, authors trot out ritualistic formal BDSM negotiations in their stories: "limit sheets" detailing which interactions are and are not allowed; slave "contracts", and safewords to stop the action.
Yes, rituals and forms are real, though they aren't always used. The problem arises when consent is at odds with sane. "Consent" does NOT blot out sane. And there's the rub: Too many authors think it does.
Let's look at the fictional use of the safeword. A safeword is a kind of rolling consent. Withholding consent by uttering the safe word jives with sanity only if a bottom or sub can actually say it. Refined processes like speech are impossible in subspace, for example. The safeword is also useless in other situations, like in ball gag play. Supposed consent, no matter how formal and ritualistic, cannot trump common sense--even in contemporary kink erotica.
Here's another example of consent failure in BDSM fiction: a plot involving play with a "damaged" sub character. A damaged sub cannot give consent! Why? Because the sub is nuts. A Top or Dominant should know that. Too bad so many authors don't. Exploiting a damaged sub for kicks is unethical in real life. It's wrong in fiction, too. Worst of all, the enormously popular "damaged sub" plot device perpetuates the stereotype of only crazies seeking out and enjoying BDSM.
I believe the author of BDSM erotica has a duty to populate stories with healthy characters that have an intimate (but not necessarily explicit) understanding of SSC.
Image credit wikipedia/commons
What is Subspace?
Subspace is the BDSM term for the special state caused by pain and other strong sensations. It's not a feeling of great joy or exhilaration, like a roller coaster ride; it isn't even a traditional high. Subspace is a trance: floating, utter calm, peace and tranquility. Hormones, primarily the natural painkillers called endorphins, are thought to induce it.
BDSM fiction sometimes confuses subspace with a sub's breathless pleasure of yielding, or the gentle contentment of worship. Those feelings are legit and marvelous, but they aren't subspace. A sub can't get subspace-worthy endorphins from being ordered about by a strong Dominant.
Without pain or physical strain, there's no subspace.
There's a good reason for the confusion. The word "subspace" is just plain bad. The word should be "bottomspace". I suppose some punster came up with the word "subspace" as tribute to Star Trek. Subspace is a method of communication in the Star Trek universe. Ironically, subspace in the BDSM world precludes communication. Why? Subspace might be described as a mystical union with the infinite. At that point a sub (or bottom) has no real interest in the person who got them there.
There was some hubbub on the Dear Author and teddypig blogs regarding the correct way to write BDSM--subspace included. One popular BDSM romance author objects to the very concept of the "right" way to write BDSM. She says there are as many types of BDSM as there are kinds of people--so anything goes. As proof, the author tells us she personally has spoken to a sub who experienced "subspace" after one glance from her Dominant.
Her argument is weak.
BDSM has universal definitions. Just because a BDSM practioner describes himself as a "Dominate" (as so many do), rather than a "Dominant", doesn't magically transform "Dominate" into the correct noun. A better excuse for a writer hijacking a BDSM word is artistic license. But I suspect authors often dilute the concept of subspace because the S and M roots of the trance isn't romantic enough. Fine and good. But a creative person should be able to come up with another name for sexual thrills or utter devotion.
For my fictional take on subspace, read My One.
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