Kai Needs to Vent

Yesterday, I did something extremely awkward: I came across the blog of one of DW's former submissives. And, believe it or not, this is the second time I have done this. In both cases, the intent wasn't to snoop or to pry into other people's business; it was more about seeing a name that I recognized or someone that I otherwise knew to be friends with DW, and subsequently clicking on a link because, hey, public blog.

This is how I came to the conclusion that on some days, the internet is really not my friend.

The first time, which happened the better part of a year ago, wasn't a very big deal. Yes, it was a former submissive who was still not at all over him. Yes, it was a person who had trouble dealing with the idea of him having another prospect, and who was trying to get him back while he was actively considering dating me. (I suppose it's important to note that while he and I were pretty committed to being together by that point, it was still long-distance and experimental, and therefore not official.) But the only thing that I actually took issue with was the fact that she still labeled herself online as being owned by him. My main concern that I expressed to him was that I didn't want to have to pretend to share him with someone he wasn't involved with anymore, we discussed it, he talked with her... and the problem was resolved.

This second time was a little different. Because if there's one thing you don't want to see as somebody's girlfriend and/or submissive, it's indications that somebody else has been actively thinking of herself as belonging to your boyfriend and/or Dominant. I'm trying to figure out how to talk about this without being specific, but basically this person made it sound like DW condoned her continuing to act like/talk like his submissive, as well as making it sound like they were playing on the weekend days that he spends with her every now and again. Assertions that she's willing to wait it out until the day they can be together again... that's not so different from Case #1. What's different is seeing indications that this person was willing to actively try to maintain a D/s dynamic with my boyfriend/Dominant WHILE I WAS LIVING WITH HIM.

Obviously, I was upset. What was I supposed to think, seeing these interactions framed as attempts to hold onto the man I've been living with for months? And making it look like he was okay with parts of it, no less. I texted him at work and asked if he was aware of this, and we ended up having a good long talk about it. I was a mess about it for a couple of hours, though. And... it wasn't the general theme of the situation that sucked. It was the specifics.

The really cool thing about blogs is that you get to say whatever you want on them without telling anybody who you are. I think it's awesome for people to have them. I think they're great tools for thinking and examining and venting. But you know... when you've got a public blog and you're writing about specific conversations and interactions with somebody else's SO, I feel like there's some sort of line being crossed. I completely understand not wanting to let go of someone. I nursed a borderline obsessive crush on someone for something like two years, long past the time when I knew that nothing would ever really happen between us, and everyone knew about it. These things happen. We're all people. If all you're doing is talking about how much you miss someone and you wish you were with them etc. and so forth, I get it. It's okay. My problem in the first case was with somebody who was still basically telling people (or at least telling the internet) that DW was still her owner. My problem in the second case was seeing that as of a couple of months ago, somebody (who I've been making an effort to be friends with, incidentally) was somewhat actively trying to maintain a dynamic with my boyfriend that was inappropriate.

And the thing is... at least in Case #2, there honestly isn't any reason for her to not write about that stuff. It's her space. It's her blog. But damnit, it hurt. It made me worry about the safety of my relationship, even though DW has never ever given me a reason not to trust him. But again, it's her space, and there was no reason to expect that I'd see it.

So then we come to another way to look at it: Don't try to maintain inappropriate dynamics with somebody else's SO in the first place.

These are two lessons here that I think can be readily applied to ANYONE who has ever gone through or will ever go through separating from a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a submissive, a Dominant: 1) If they've established a relationship with somebody else, have the grace to respect that fact, and 2) Be aware that if you post something publicly, somebody involved in the situation could very well find it.

And you know... this blog right here? It's public. It's probably not even more difficult to come across than either of the ones I did. So maybe this gets found. Maybe I even take some shit for it. But at the end of the day... this is my venting space.

Maybe Lesson #3 is "Stop clicking links on the internet." >_>

Kai's Journal of Conversational Etiquette

I've been thinking on and off about the appropriateness of asking people about their sex lives. I'm not exactly talking about random people, and I'm not exactly talking about close friends. I'm talking about those people who you've met and talked to before, who you haven't established close ties with, and yet who suddenly jump at you with details about their (and questions/assumptions about your) sex life at the earliest opportunity.

Now, this topic isn't intrinsically kinky; it's something that I'm sure tons of vanilla people end up having to put up with, too. But the situation that *I* was recently involved in was a bit on the kinky side, which is why I figure it can go here.

When I brought this up as a potential entry to DW an hour or so ago, I initially said that while there were some situations in which I was okay talking about my kinks and sexual preferences right off the bat, there were many others wherein I wasn't. He then challenged me to come up with any instances at all in which I'd felt early discussion about such topics was comfortable and acceptable, and I realized that the only ones I could come up with were ones in which it was context-appropriate. For example, I met some good friends of mine through the kink club at my college, and therefore some of the first things I knew about them had to do with things they liked to do in the bedroom. And that was cool, because we were at a meeting for a group that was designed for those sorts of conversations. Similarly, things like invitations to kink events from random people while hanging out at a bar are totally acceptable, because they're not personal. And if a conversation starts out of it... well, there was an evident catalyst, so it's probably all right.

However, if someone who you aren't close to asks out of the blue for advice related to specific sexual situations, it comes off as random at best and creepy at worst. That's the scale for me, at least. And the funny thing is, when I encountered this situation and finally asked the person I was talking to why they thought it was a good idea to ask these things of me, they replied that since we had a mutual friend who was kinky, it was a good bet that I was kinky, too.

Now, this generates a couple of problems. The first problem is that "kinky" is an extremely broad term. Someone who likes getting tied up in bed might not be crazy about humiliation play; someone who likes wax play might be averse to pony play; someone who likes rape play might really hate flogging.... and so on and so forth. Kink is a HUGE category, filled with so many sub-categories that even now I'm coming across kinks and fetishes that I never knew existed. So, even assuming that I *am* kinky, I might very well not be into the same stuff that friend X is into.

This brings me to the second problem, i.e. the fact that I might *not* be kinky at all. If your decision to talk to somebody about your unconventional sex life is based entirely on the fact that you share a "kinky" friend, and said friend usually hangs out with people with similar tastes, you're kind of taking a risk. Although communities do tend to form around common interests, kinks don't exclusively hang out with kinks and vanillas don't exclusively hang out with vanillas. For that matter, as per the previous point, pony play aficionados don't exclusively hang out with other pony play aficionados, etc. etc. etc. So really, it's in your best interest to feel out the situation first and try to gauge whether or not your conversation partner is even interested in talking about sex-related things in the first place; even if they are in fact kinky, they might not want to talk to you about it.

Actually, that last sentence up there is sort of a problem #3. Because, when you get down to it, even if you are in fact talking with someone whose sex-life is outside what is considered "normal," there's no guarantee that they want to share details of that with you (or, for that matter, hear details about yours). Some people are very selective about who they talk to about their preferences, and they probably don't appreciate being pressed for details (e.g. "Do you belong to this kink website?" "Do you know where I can find people who are into X?" "What do you think about Y?"). Likewise, they might not be ready for a conversation beginning with, "I'm really into such-and-so and I can't find anyone else who is."

Again, this all mostly applies to people who aren't close, personal friends, but it can also be applied to situations where maybe you're close friends, but not necessarily the type of friends who talk openly about personal sexual practices. I guess what it all comes down to is: Don't throw this sort of thing at someone who hasn't expressed interest in talking about it. If they're dodging all of your questions or flat-out refusing to answer, chances are they're not comfortable with the conversation.

Kai Under Control

I ended up spending some time yesterday thinking about the control aspect of our relationship. More accurately, I was thinking about the last two entries that DW wrote. For those of you following him, you know that he just posted one entry on scene-building and another on control. For those of you not following him… well, now you know. He spent a good deal of yesterday at work, so while I was home on my own working on whatever it is I work on during the weekends, I was also thinking about some of the things that he said, particularly those which apply to me.

The one that I’m going to talk about now, and one which he and I discussed over dinner yesterday, is the issue of how much control he holds in our relationship. I believe that his characterization of me in his blog is accurate: that I react badly to people trying to control most aspects of my life, and that this is perhaps a defense mechanism. What’s difficult for me is the fact that I want very badly for a D/s relationship between us to work out, yet for whatever reason we are having trouble building it. On my end are the issues of how I perceive attempts to control me. On his end are the issues of time and available energy. It saddens me that he is not always happy with how much control he has, and I want to work on it so that we can get to a point where we can both be happy. Unfortunately, his work keeps him very busy, and there are many days when he just isn’t in the mood to deal with checking up on a submissive to make sure she’s doing what he’s told her to. I understand this, and have no problem with it. But, it does make it harder for me to know what I can do to make it better.

So, when we were at dinner, I gave him a few ideas for aspects of my life that I don’t mind giving over control of. I’m predominantly using my weekdays to work on a novel, as I am still without a real job, so a lot of what I suggested revolved around that. To list:

-Specifically how many hours a day I have to spend writing (I personally shoot for 5-8 under my own supervision)

-What sorts of things it is acceptable to take breaks for (chores? errands? food?)

-How many breaks I can have, and how long they can be

-(I also fielded the possibility that he could give me a certain number of days a week that I would have to wear makeup, though I generally dislike doing so.)

These suggestions are clearly not numerous, but since most of my days are spent writing there aren’t many areas where rules would be applicable. Plus, DW isn’t a fan of arbitrary rules that don’t serve real purposes.

I am still trying to think of other ways I can help, but in the meantime, I hope that he decides to try a couple of my ideas and see how they work. In my experience, you don’t know how something’s going to go until you try… so I guess I just want my opportunity to do that.

Kai10寿司 (kaiten-zushi)

A little while back, I joined an online kink/fetish community. I did so in large part because I have never been part of one, and I wanted to experience an outlet into the wider population of the kink world. DW has had experiences with online communities in the past and has more or less given of on them and put them behind him, but he had no problem with me putting myself out there and checking the scene out for myself.

Thus far, the community has proven to have the same sorts of pros and cons as any community. I love the debate, the variety of viewpoints, the range of subjects to read about… It’s really nice to be able to see what other people think about in the realm of kink. You get the types who have the sort of “my way or the highway” mentality about how BDSM is supposed to work, those who make a point of acknowledging that everyone’s views on/experiences with the “lifestyle” are different, those who are covert with their presences, those who unabashedly porn it up… Just so many people, so many different ways of thinking, so many things that poking around there makes me think about. It’s not quite tantamount to real-life exposure, but it’s something that I’m glad I have access to.

One of the things that I have noticed around there is the prevalence of polyamorous relationships. I had some friends in college who went that route, and others who just went for the “open relationship” model, and out of them I couldn’t have pinpointed many that seemed like they worked. That’s not meant to be a commentary on whether or not polyamory is a good idea… it’s just my personal observation of how it was when I was in school. At any rate, I suppose I was surprised at how many instances of it I saw online, almost like it was the trendy thing in the scene at the time. I have very little idea as to whether or not that’s true, though I would venture to say that there are people who are in legit poly relationships because that’s what does it for them, and those who do it because it seems like what all the “cool kids” are doing. (I mentally compare this a bit to people who are bisexual vs. those who try to be or say they are bisexual because, let’s face it… it did become trendy at some point.)

I further noticed, even before it actually became a discussion topic on a couple of the boards, that there were people on both the polyamorous and monogamous sides of things who seemed to feel very much like their way was “better” than the other. There would be monogamists who argued moral superiority, polyamorists who argued that embracing a wider view made them more evolved, and then everyone in the middle with their many and varied opinions ranging the entire spectrum. At one point, a debate surfaced regarding the possible existence of submissives who agreed to polyamorous relationships simply because if they did not, their Dominants would sleep around anyway… and then lie about it. It was a fascinating discussion, and it made me examine my own feelings on the issue.

Now, it is not my intent here to critique other people’s opinions about whether polyamory is awesome, evil, or whatever else have you. These are just my thoughts about something that I had not, in all honesty, given much thought to before.

• As far as I’m aware, polyamory is a term describing the ability to love more than one person. Also, I was advised way back in the day—courtesy of the kink club I belonged to in college—that in a polyamorous relationship (as opposed to an “open relationship”) all partners should be aware of each other and accept one another as part of the relationship. One friend of mine at the time was quite vocally against what she termed L-shaped relationships, where one person is in a relationship with the other two, but those two have no relationship to each other. I have a feeling that, although I’m sure exceptions exist, an L-shaped relationship—full disclosure or not—would be a large-scale communication mistake waiting to happen.
• Based on the aforementioned definition of what a polyamorous relationship should be, such a relationship should never be used as an excuse or a reason to sleep around. Unless you’re informing your main partner(s) of everyone else you’re having sex with and get their approval, that’s really not a polyamorous relationship. That’s just… well, sleeping around. Or an open relationship, depending on what you and your partner’s parameters are.
• I dislike the idea of a Dominant setting down a ground-rule that, while he or she is allowed to have multiple partners, his or her submissive(s) is/are not. If it comes out of mutual agreement, that’s cool… I can shelve it under the “Your Kink is Not My Kink” heading. But if it’s a demand with no room for debate, I find it kind of tweaky.
• I don’t think that men specifically have more of a “need” to be polyamorous or have multiple sexual partners. Sure, back in the good old days of early humanity the pride of lions model (i.e. one male in charge of many females) was practical and necessary, but modern man (with all of his evolved higher intelligence and social awareness) shouldn’t be allowed to use his genetic ancestry as an excuse. Again, if both primary partners agree that he’s allowed to sleep around, fine, but I don’t really buy into the “But I have to sleep with lots of women because that’s what men are built to do!” defense. It’s kind of like saying, “But I have to be pregnant all the time because that’s what women are built to do!”
• I believe that polyamory can actually work quite well if everyone involved communicates and knows what’s going on. It can’t work, though, if anyone in the relationship isn’t actually poly. It’s like telling everyone you’re a bisexual female until you realize that, try as you might, you’re just not sexually attracted to that girl you’re hooking up with. I suppose the point here is that if you don’t think you’re actually wired for poly, don’t try to convince yourself that you are… you’ll most likely just end up getting hurt, and hurting other people as well.
• Polyamory… is just not for me. I know that I can be attracted to more than one person at a time, but that’s not about love and it’s not about choosing a partner. Do I think that the monogamous route is “better”? No: the “better” configuration is whichever one works best for the person/people in the relationship. I’m quite content with a single partner who has no other partners besides me.
• I don’t think being monogamous means you’re never allowed to have a threesome or do a scene with another play partner. I don’t know how I would handle either of these things—though I try hard not to be, I know I can get jealous—but unless you’re in a relationship with that third person or that play partner I’m pretty sure you can still call yourself monogamous.
• I don’t think that poly is a necessity where kink is concerned. You don’t have to do it just because “everybody else” is.

This has become quite long-winded, so I think it’s time to close it out. In short, polyamory is not for me. It’s really not about who’s right, who’s more evolved, who’s kinkier, or whatever else have you. It’s a preference and a lifestyle… and it honestly just shouldn’t be used as an excuse to have sex with everyone.

As always, comments are welcome.

Kai Clashes With Her Dominant Sometimes... Which is Probably to be Expected

Sometimes it’s difficult to be an emotional submissive with a logic-based Dominant. Not bad, mind you, but difficult. I’ll set myself to writing an entry about something that I feel strongly about—you’ve probably figured out by now that I’m very opinionated at least some of the time—and later have it brought to my attention that instead of “addressing the issue at hand,” I’m standing on a soap-box talking about why I feel a certain way rather than directly examining the subject.

At that point, of course, I get frustrated. I get upset, even though I tell myself that I shouldn’t. And the reason I get upset is that something I feel very strongly about is being taken apart logically in front of me, divorced from emotional content and personal investment.

The other reason I get upset is that he’s most often right about things like that.

There is something that is simultaneously enjoyable and maddening about being partnered to a scientist. Sometimes I love that difference, and sometimes it feels like running up against a brick wall.

Upon reading my entry about gender identity, gender preference, and D/s configuration, DW told me in no uncertain terms that there were, in fact, biological bases for all of these things, and therefore it was erroneous to assume that the fact of me being female has nothing to do with the fact of me being a submissive. He said that within species which contain males and females, the males are dominant… and that humans, despite having developed higher intelligence, don’t get to claim exemption. Biology is full of exceptions, accounting for the existence of male submissives, female Dominants, and whatever other configurations one might come across, but my claim that there is no relationship between the two was found to be faulty because I addressed the whole issue via personal viewpoints and opinions instead of fact.

Gender identity is a very personal issue for me. It isn’t that I want to be a male rather than a female, but… I do feel very strongly about socially-constructed views on how gender should dictate what a person’s role is. So, being as emotionally invested in it as I am, it wasn’t exactly easy to hear that I had invalidated at least part of my argument by failing to take into account the idea that there is a biological basis for things like this.

When conversations like this happen, and I get frustrated by being countered with logic and research, I tell myself after the fact that this is me being pushed to think in different directions and accept things that I did not know or consider before, even when they are at odds with how I feel. It would be easier if I were being countered with another opinion, but oftentimes it isn’t opinion that I come up against. Or it’s opinion bolstered by fact. So I have to consider different angles, different information, different approaches.

Sometimes, it drives me crazy.

On the other hand, I always know that I am safe with him. He knows the limitations of the human body, what can and cannot be “safely” done with it, how much impact is within reasonable parameters and how much will cause permanent damage. He knows that certain types or amplitudes of play will cause the kidneys to fail, and knows the process by which this happens. I trust this man to take care of me, because he understands the technical aspects of what can and can’t, should and shouldn’t be done with a body. After knowing somebody like this, who has the wherewithal to apply science to BDSM, I doubt I would ever feel truly safe in the hands of a Dominant who does not.

I love my logical, scientist Dominant.

Even though sometimes we just don’t see eye to eye.

Kai Under Pressure

I’m not entirely certain what the point of this entry is going to be. I’ve been thinking about it and trying to figure out if there’s something overarching that I can say with it, but even now I’m just not sure. Maybe it’s just a little bit of a story, something that happened in the course of my relationship with DW and which therefore has a place here. It’s probably not even an interesting story… but here we go, all the same.

At some point last week, I ended up spontaneously getting very upset over the prospect (read: fear) that we were going to lose our D/s dynamic and I was going to end up in a relationship that, for whatever reason, just didn’t incorporate it. It started, I suppose, over dinner, with him telling me that sometimes he felt like he didn’t have a lot to work from with me. DW has always based his scenes (and out-of scene play) on things that he knows about his partner, be it things that he has personally observed, things that his partner has directly told him, or things that he has inferred from conversation or action. One specific thing that troubled him with me was that I don’t have specific fantasies about scene-ing or playing, which gives him less material to work from. I got frustrated, in part because the last time that we had a long talk about where we were at with the dynamic, he had reassured me that he was still working on figuring me out and that I didn’t have anything to worry about. Things like this are a process, and he had things that he wanted to be sure of before pushing forward. And then, in the course of talking over dinner, I started feeling like things had just stalled out in that process…. And I felt like the reason for it was something that was my fault.

I didn’t cry in public, which I suppose counts for something, but I ended up breaking down in the car in the apartment parking lot. Maybe it was stupid and maybe it wasn’t, but I just felt like something was going to happen and we were going to discover that we’re too different to make this aspect work. I told him that I was upset because I was giving him everything I knew how to, but because there were still certain things that I just couldn’t provide—like fantasies about potential scenes or progressions that I liked—it was my fault that we couldn’t move forward. He told me that that wasn’t true… The problem was that I work differently from the other submissives he’s had in the past, and the things that worked for them just don’t work as well for me. He said that the fact that he hasn’t found the right patterns and triggers for me is hardly my fault, so I shouldn’t be upset about it. For my part, though, I still don’t like that there are things that I can’t quite give. I can tell him all about things that I like and what I like about them, but I can’t tell him much about my preferences for scene progressions because, let’s face it, I rarely subbed for the same person twice back in college. The scenes were all quite casual, and none of them much resembled each other. So, in the end, anything like a preferred pattern or sequence that I could tell him about would, in essence, be a guess.

It is an unavoidable fact that I am not the same as the women he’s been with before. I am reminded of this whenever I decide to ask him where we stand in the D/s aspect of things. I want to play more, I want to keep this part of us alive, but somehow there’s always something I feel I’m not doing or elsewise not living up to. The day after, I wrote him an email while he was at work, with some speculation about combinations of things that I thought would work for me in scenes. It wasn’t very thorough, and some of it was fairly obvious, but I really felt like I needed to offer something, to do what I could to hold up my end of things.

The biggest thing that I took from our conversation is that his not having me completely figured out is not my fault. I don’t know that I completely believe this, but I’m trying to. And even if it isn’t my fault, I’m sure that there’s some way in which I could be helping. I’ve made a fair amount of progress on the issue of offering versus expecting him to take, which I’m fairly pleased with, so I suppose the next thing to work on is to come up with more definitive information that I can give him to assist in scene-building. I’ve always been wary about helping with scene-building because I don’t want to necessarily know what a scene contains, nor do I want to be in control of it, but his view on it is that I can give a framework that he can then mould and change and build on. So… I have to learn to make things that can be built on.

It’s hard to not feel a little bad about being difficult to figure out, though.

Kai is Female. Kai is Submissive. These Facts are Unrelated.

Sometimes I wish I had more contact with male submissives. This might seem like a strange thing to wish for, but it’s true. I was friends with a couple of them in college, both of whom had enough switch in them to act as my Dominants on the few occasions when we scened together. One of them had his own steady Dominant (he and I almost ended up dating… neither of us really tied BDSM play to relationships, so there was no conflict), and the other had used to be his girlfriend’s sub before they broke up. Both topped me in scenes, true, but they had more submissive in them than Dominant and that was likely the role in which they were more comfortable. One of them is now (as far as I know) living a more vanilla lifestyle, and the other I have no idea about at all… though I imagine he still retains an interest in play.

I suppose my thoughts on this are more related to societal gender roles than anything else. I do not like the fact that this is true, because I keep my BDSM separate from my views on gender and gender-identity. As a bit of background, for those reading this who do not know me personally, I’ve always had a bit of a fluctuating view on gender, and for a long time I’ve been much more comfortable projecting a certain amount of masculine or androgynous mannerisms than I have been projecting feminine mannerisms. This is just me and how I view myself. It is impossible to really concisely explain the tangled web of issues, influences, factors, and finer points of how I perceive myself as a gendered individual, but perhaps I can pare it down to some relevant bullet points for the time being.

-Expressing my feminine side makes me feel weak.

-Expressing my masculine side makes me feel in control and unafraid.

-I still have days (fewer now than when I was in college) that the image I see in the mirror does not quite match up with the self-image that exists in my mind.

-I am against the concrete setting of social gender roles, particularly when doing so is more discriminatory than it is a reflection of what people actually wish to be doing.

I feel like I’m on slightly slippery ground here, because I don’t particularly want to be lumped in with radical feminists or women who hate men or women who think that women are better than men etc. etc. None of these are the case. The issue is more like I hate it when women are told that they have to be a certain way or do a certain thing because they are women. If your thing is to keep house and cook for your partner, cool. You should do that. If your thing is to work as a high-level executive and know all the ins and outs of a business enterprise, you should do that. If your thing is to put three hours into making yourself look pretty every day, right on. If your thing is to wear jeans and t-shirts and spend your days drafting new layouts for parking lots, go to it. The point is that all types of women exist, and one set of standards doesn’t fit all; it should just be about doing what you’re good at and/or what makes you happy, not about, “You’re female, therefore you are supposed to do this thing.” I can even accept it when DW says that women’s bodies are less biologically suited to strenuous physical tasks than men’s bodies. Why? Because it’s true. Sure, you’ve got your female bodybuilders and such, but your average male is always going to be bigger and stronger than your average female. Does this mean that women are weak or that they can’t play sports or have physically demanding jobs? Of course not. It’s simply an issue of BY DEFAULT these are differences which exist physically between men and women.

Make sense so far?

The bit where this gets into my desire to know more male submissives is based around the number of female submissives I have seen around—predominantly on the internet. For me, one’s choice to be/orientation as a submissive has nothing to do with gender or gender expectations. It’s kind of like how sexuality isn’t actually rooted in gender-identity: You’ve got your men who like women, women who like men, men who like men, women who like women, plus all of the non-binary configurations that you find out there. Being female doesn’t automatically equate to being sexually attracted to males. Likewise, being female doesn’t automatically equate to being a submissive. This is evidenced by the existence of female dominants and male submissives. A woman being the submissive of a male Dominant doesn’t indicate that women are naturally submissive to men, and it doesn’t indicate the “natural order of things.” It is a preference and a role that lies outside of the purview of defining what a man or a woman is “supposed to be.”

I have been thinking about this more because lately I’ve seen/heard a couple of female submissives say that they have an easier time submitting to men because men are “naturally dominant.” Personally, I take issue with this idea. I accept that there are specific women who feel this way about their interactions with men, and that’s fine. What I don’t like is this being made as a blanket statement. It’s like when I took issue with the preface to Story of O, in which Jean Paulhan used it to make a sweeping generalization about the nature of women rather than the nature of submissives. Actually, I’m not a fan of sweeping generalizations in any context ( < / end sweeping generalization>), but I suppose what really concerns me is the idea that there could be any number of people out there who think that women choose to be submissives because of some primal instinct to occupy a position inferior to men, to serve men, to cater to men, when really it’s just the desire to put oneself in the hands of a dominant figure, gender aside. One of the people I was most submissive to in my past was another woman, so there is no way to convince me that female submissives do it to occupy their “rightful place” in regards to males.

And so… I want to know more male submissives so that I can feel like this balance exists. I want to talk to people who are submissives who can be so without being concerned that it will be interpreted as something they should inherently do based on their biological form. I want to know if submissive men ever feel the inverse of this: That society would look down on them for wanting to put themselves at the feet of a woman, or at the feet of another man, because this is not what men are “supposed to do.”

I do not think that my being female has anything to do with my being a submissive. I do not think that anyone’s biological sex or gender-identity has anything to do with being a submissive. Or with being a Dominant, for that matter. I do think that there are people out there who think that they are related, though… Perhaps they are even the same people who think that proclaiming their Dominant status grants them the right to tell any submissive they meet to get on their knees, or that a D/s relationship = a sanctioned abusive relationship. Or, perhaps they are people who are established in the “scene,” whose own personal views on BDSM have been formed by their personal views of societal gender roles. I, myself, do not know.

But, being a female submissive, sometimes I feel very much like I want to know males who have taken this position.

Kai Wears Her Concerned Face

I've been thinking a lot today about face-slapping. This is not typically something I think about; it isn't something that I enjoy, and for me it has never been incorporated into S/M play. It also isn't safe... which I guess is why it's been on my mind.

DW did a post on safety a couple of days ago. He talked about the ideas of "Safe, Sane, and Consensual," edge play, and calculated risk, pointing out that everything in BDSM is a calculated risk and therefore not intrinsically safe... no matter how careful you are when you go about it. There are tiny points on this wherein our opinions differ: I don't take issue with the SSC slogan, since I'm all for using one's own personal interpretation of what those words mean rather than some generalized set of standards; and I don't consider everything in BDSM to be risky, since individual elements of sensation play are virtually harmless. But these are really small points that are largely semantic, and for the most part we are in agreement about what "safety" in a BDSM relationship really means.

So... there's this idea of calculated risk, and the accompanying idea of knowing exactly what you're doing with your partner. This is especially important for Dominants, as they will usually be the ones doing the striking, binding, restraining, torturing, and what have you. The one time I played with an inexperienced Domme where striking was involved, she made a mistake in her aim and I caught some wraparound on my collarbone from the ends of a horse-hair flogger. There are worse things that can happen, and wraparound can still happen even with experienced Dominants. At the end of the day, you can't avoid all accidents, but you can at least be prepared for them. But even this Domme, who had topped very few people before me (if any... I can't precisely recall), knew about generally accepted "safe" zones for striking, as well as the no-go areas; her aim might have failed her on that occasion, but it wasn't out of ignorance... just inexperience.

Which brings me to a trend that I've been finding in the online community. It seems to me that I've been reading a ton of posts and accounts by submissives (usually female, but not exclusively) who talk about (and often enjoy) their Dominants slapping them in the face as a punishment or mode of humiliation. I really don't like to judge the way other people choose to conduct themselves within a BDSM context; different people like to play different ways, have different rules, set different parameters. I understand this. But there are also some things that carry more risk than can really be contained in that "calculated risk" category. A few days ago, DW outlined for me all of the locations on and around the face that are dangerous to strike, and why. It takes so little pressure in the right (or wrong) locations to dislocate the jaw, cause damage the eye and the eye socket, cause damage to the skull... cause death, even. I have my doubts that Dominants who routinely utilize face-slapping take the time to aim their blows in a way that specifically avoids these areas, and I imagine that it would be difficult to completely avoid striking your partner at the hinge of the jaw or under the eye socket. The temple is easier to avoid, but like I said earlier... mistakes happen.

Now, obviously these are not things that happen every time a Dominant hits their submissive in the face. If they were, there would probably be a lot more dead/injured submissives and a lot fewer couples utilizing this as a component of play. But... my Dominant has touched my face to show me the ways in which slapping a person there can hurt them. He has told me all of the risks involved, and knowing those risks I don't think I could ever consent to somebody striking me that way. Those risks, to me, are beyond "calculated."

In the end, I hope that the couples who practice this know these risks. I hope that they know them and consent to them, within whatever definition of "safe" they have agreed upon. If they have at least done that, I can more or less comfortably turn away and put it in the category of, "That's fine for you, but it's not my thing." If they haven't, though, I can't help feeling like somebody's going to end up getting hurt because they don't understand all the ways in which that could happen.

I feel very lucky to have a partner who is aware of these things. I think that I am much safer for it.

Kai Under the Hand

A few days ago, DW got a new toy. The new toy is a black leather crop on which the striking portion is shaped like a hand. The first time I saw it, it was inside a long triangular priority mail shipping box which I glanced at briefly while on my way out the door. I asked DW what it was, and he said something along the lines of he wasn't sure... that he was waiting for a package, he just didn't know what the package was going to look like. We were away for a couple of days after that, and by the time we got back I had completely forgotten about the box. The night we got back I went directly to the bedroom and crashed on the bed, completely exhausted. It was after 1am and I was unequivocally ready to commence being dead to the world. When DW followed a short time later, he struck me a few times with what I thought was the paddle he keeps in his toybox. We'd played with the paddle before, and it felt kind of familiar, but I didn't turn around to look. Instead, I'm pretty sure I made a noise that sounded something like, "mraaaaaaaaaaaaakgh," and went back to the business of passing out.

Yeah... I was really tired.

The next day I texted him at work to ask what he'd used. He simply responded that I would find out. Then I turned around and noticed the crop lying next to the bed, tag still attached. I made the bed and put the crop up against the pillows.

I want to say here that--as I believe I've mentioned before--I sometimes contend with the idea of how to ask DW if we can play. I learned a little while ago that I can't flat-out request it; when I make requests, it's just more likely to make him decide to put it off. So more often than not I just have to be patient and willing to wait.

Which... can be difficult. Especially when there are things I want to play with that we haven't tried out yet.

So I decided to see what would happen if I just left the new toy out on the bed where he would notice it. And notice it he did... right before he picked it up and put it down on the floor so he could fold the blanket down. I was disappointed. I projected disappointed.

Me: "You didn't like the place where I put it?"

DW: "You just put it there so I'd notice it!"

Me: "......yeah..........."

DW: "You just wanted to get me to use it on you, huh."

Me: "Well... I'm not allowed to ask, so I thought maybe if I just kind of put it there.... you know.... we could play with it....."

Retrospectively, I'm kind of surprised that this worked; it wouldn't necessarily have been the first time for DW to laugh and kiss me and refuse to give me what I wanted. Instead, he playfully tapped me with the crop while verbally teasing me about my actions, then gradually increased the force behind the blows. He started with my breasts--which lent itself to a bit of joking around since the tip of the crop was, well, a hand--before putting me down on the bed and moving on to my legs and butt. It had been quite some time since I'd had a crop used on me--we're talking on the order of years--and I was surprised at how sharp the pain was. It's a very bite-y toy, whereas I had become used to the duller pain of floggers and bare hands (and, to some extent, paddles). This had me occasionally flinching and rolling to get away, but I never went far and didn't honestly want him to stop. He recognizes this in me, and he tends to be more amused by my struggles and half-assed escape tactics than anything else.

DW has already recognized a couple of problem spots in the design of the crop (the pole extends a bit further into the hand/tip than he'd like, and the wire wrapped around it could potentially come undone and cause damage if not taken care of), and I'm going to need a few sessions to get used to the sting. I know that he could have put a lot more force and speed into it than he did, but even with the way he was using it I found the brand of pain slightly difficult to handle. So... I want more chances to play with it, integrate it with other toys, see how well we can ultimately get along.

In the meantime, I'll have to work on figuring out the right way to request play. Leaving the toy out worked this one time, but I have my doubts that it will always work out that way.

Kai's Wishlist: St. Andrew's Cross

When I was a sophomore in college, I shared a dorm with three other people. We had our own common area with a table and chairs and kitchen appliances, and up against the wall we had a St. Andrew's cross. The St. Andrew's cross did not belong to us so much as it belonged to the resident kink club, of which three of us were members (and the fourth's lack of club membership didn't at all mean he wasn't into the kink scene). I don't remember the exact circumstances involved, but the general long and short of it was that it somehow got decided that instead of leaving the cross in storage it would come and live with us. The biggest reason for this, if I recall correctly, was simply that out of all the current active members of the club, we would almost definitely get the most use out of it.

And so, it came to pass that we were in possession of the club's St. Andrew's cross for the duration of that school year.

Our St. Andrew's cross was a very simple structure; in fact, nothing more than the X-frame, painted black, and a couple of built-in chains. It did not have a base, and so in a way it was more symbolic than functional. I had used it once or twice as a freshman at play parties, and even when anchored to it I couldn't put any of my weight on the chains out of concern for the possibility that it would fall over. In this way, the cross was better as a measure of discipline than an instrument of bondage: place your hands here and do not move them until I tell you that you may do so. So perhaps it was more psychological than physical in nature, but it had a special place in our hearts and we were more than happy to let it stay in our dorm.

As it turned out, we didn't use it often at all. It spent most of the year festooned with Christmas lights, and when our parents came to visit we told them that it was a coat rack (someone put a jacket on it beforehand to lend credence to the claim). We may have put it to use once or twice during personal play parties, but for the most part it was decorative and symbolic and nothing more.

Now it is years later and DW and I have toyed with the idea of getting a cross for ourselves. We haven't discussed it in any degree of seriousness or immediacy, but the desire to one day have one is certainly there. I know that one day I would like to have a cross that I can be anchored to and put my weight on, that I can push on and struggle against and know it is solid. Even with our "symbolic" cross in college, I liked it as a base from which to be flogged. It lent a certain variety of focus that being flogged while lying on a bed or standing in the middle of the floor lacks. One does not need a cross for this; the same effect can be achieved by telling me to keep my hands on the back of a chair, the edge of a table, the support beam that stretches from the floor to the ceiling. It outlines a place for me to put my hands and, by extension, channel a part of my attention that would not otherwise be used. It adds a parameter. It adds an element of D/s--and also discipline--to something that otherwise would be primarily on the S/M side of the scale. In the case of a solid, properly built St. Andrew's cross, the bondage element can come into play as well*, thus allowing for the full range of what is encompassed in BDSM... at least as far as the acronym is concerned.

The St. Andrew's cross, though not strictly a must-have, is a fantastic accessory to play... and I imagine it could be integrated quite easily into non-scenes as well. DW and I have yet to do a third full-blown scene, but play elements surface between us almost every day. I am almost certain that if there were a cross around, we would find a way to integrate it into play and sex, regardless of whether or not there was a scene involved.

*The bondage element may also be played in the event that one is tied or otherwise bound to any of the aforementioned furniture, etc. However, in the case of tables and chairs, a cross might be a better anchor point and support for your weight depending on the extent of the bondage, how much you struggle, and how much you weigh.

Kai Under the Radar

A couple of days ago, DW and I were poking around on Eden Fantasys (yeah... they spell it that way) looking for toys we might want to test/review, and I speculated that it might be fun to do video reviews. This earned me some reproach from DW, in the form of reminding me how not okay that would be for his professional life. Me, I don't really let my speculating be constrained by things like that; imagination for me doesn't necessarily need to be tied down to real-life concerns. But this exchange reminded me that, much as I would like it to be otherwise, there are some aspects in which kink and the "real world" just don't play nice together.

I have mentioned previously in this blog that DW is in a situation where it could be potentially disastrous for him to be outed as a kink, whereas I am more or less free to throw it around however I want. But the fact of the matter is that this could very easily not be true forever; just because I don't have a job in the "professional" world now doesn't mean I never will, and my freedom to be open or closed as I choose could eventually be taken away. I could be a tattoo artist and never have to worry about whether or not people know I enjoy BDSM, or I could be employed by a university or a financial institution where that information could somehow get me in hot water. It's like getting a dragon tattooed on your neck because you think you're gonna spend your life as a rock star... only to find that no one else will employ you because you can't cover it up. Quite simply, the real world--the professional world--restricts one's personal lifestyle choices and modes of expression, sometimes in ways that honestly sadden me. There is nothing that says that someone with a lot of body art can't wear a suit and lead a board meeting, nor is there anything that says a dominant with a rope fetish can't manage a corporation or be responsible for world-changing technological advances. Instances where two things that have nothing to do with each other whatsoever somehow prove effectively incompatible.

I am jealous, in a way, of people who can be active in the community and not worry about where they show their faces. The people who post video reviews for sex toys on the internet, the submissives who show off their dominants' shibari creations in online photo galleries without hiding their faces. The models who showcase bondage as an art form, to be appreciated as something beautiful. I feel that doing any of these things stands to be somehow damaging... and I wish desperately that this were not true. A candid involvement in one thing shouldn't have any bearing on what one does with the rest of their time. If I felt that I could, I would have a photo gallery of shibari ties, a compendium of what my dominant can do to me. I believe that it is beautiful. But I have no way to know whether this is a safe thing, whether it would eventually turn on me and cause damage. I have no way to know if it would somehow damage my dominant. And, ultimately, it would be up to him whether or not I were even able to share something like that in the first place. I do, after all, belong to him, and I would respect his choice whether or not such images could be shared.

I am an idealist. I realize this. Saying that I wish the world didn't work a certain way won't do anything to change the fact that it does. But you know... I don't think one should have to take the whole rest of their life into account when deciding to post a video review or a photo of a new rope corset. I look at someone like Midori, whose professional world is the kink world, and I think... if she were to ever stop doing that, what would happen to her? And I think, she is lucky that she can dedicate her life to her art. But I also think, one can't really be that visible in the scene and be involved in anything else that's at all high-profile.

Overall, my impression is that, in situations where one wants to be "visible," one really has to choose which world to stand in. One can stand in both worlds if they stay below the radar, but otherwise it strikes me as being difficult... if not impossible. This isn't to say that I want to be all out there throwing my face around... but it would be nice in a way to know that if I wanted to, I could.

Kai Learns About Vibrators... And Tries to Decide if They're Kinky

All right… I think this is as good a time as any to write about vibrators. I wasn’t entirely certain I was going to do one, since I’ll say right off the bat that I don’t consider vibrators intrinsically kinky. While I’m sure there are those out there who view any type of sex toy as kinky, my personal definition of what defines “kink” lists more in the direction of BDSM practices. Dictionary.com defines kink (or the slang sense of kink, at any rate) as “bizarre or unconventional sexual preferences or behavior,” and when you get down to it I would never think to classify vibrators as either bizarre or unconventional.

In fact, I would be more likely to define myself as bizarre and unconventional for not having even owned a vibrator until about a year or two ago, when a good friend of mine basically told me, “You need a vibrator. I’m going to order you one from Canada.” This is a paraphrase, but I’m not paraphrasing that much. My friend, who was in the process of getting herself one of those fancy toys that you plug into your mp3 player, took it upon herself to buy me a toy from half a world away and have it delivered to my doorstep in Japan. It looked like this:

Now, the first thing I should probably make clear here is that the reason I have never owned a vibrator has been largely based on a distinct lack of need... and consequently a lack of interest. I had a bit of curiosity about them, but never an accompanying drive to own one. And anyway, I did just fine without one. But it was Spring and I was sexually frustrated and my dear friend decided that she wanted to help me out--which is where the Doc Johnson Flex a Pleasure up there comes in.

All told, this was probably not the best vibrator to start out with. Sure, it's nice and friendly-looking and kind of resembles either a piece of belly jewelry or a phone from the 1970s (I was really tempted to take a photo illustrating the phone resemblance), but it has drawbacks that I wouldn't have thought of upon looking at it. Namely, I ended up using it almost exclusively for external stimulation because it can get... well, "stuck" is sort of the wrong word, but it really isn't far off. The way it's designed to bend is actually pretty cool--and useful!--but if it bends around once it's inside you it can get a little confused on its way out. Once or twice I found that the angle I was removing it at was different from the angle at which it was inserted, and the moments before I was able to successfully maneuver it out were a little bit unnerving. There is a distinct possibility that this makes me stupid, but there is an even more distinct possibility that someone like me who hadn't even handled a standard, non-bendy vibrator should probably have not started out with this one. Additionally, though I used it quite sparingly, the batteries ran out very quickly (apparently, even a few days in the drawer without attention should be grounds for removing them).

And it didn't get me off.

This is actually--as one might expect--the pivotal detail in why, even after I got my vibrator, I continued to be unenthusiastic about them. It isn't that it didn't feel good, or that it didn't do anything... but I just couldn't relate to any of those people who swear by their vibrators.

My first indication that I might be mistaken about the usefulness--or at least, the enjoyability--of vibrators was back when DW and I had our first scene. If you read that entry, you know that he tied me into a simple rope harness and put a vibrator under the rope, sending tremors down to the knot that was tied between my legs. I hadn't put much thought into the vibrator's potential as a partner toy, much less an accessory to BDSM scenes (see my previous separation of kink and sex), and the creative use of it in this one instance made me reevaluate it somewhat.

My second indication didn't come for quite some time afterwards... just a few days ago, in fact, eleven months after that scene. (Wow... eleven months... it's really been that long, since our first BDSM interaction together.) I can't say that DW woke me up with vibrators, exactly... the exchange ran something like this:

Me: "What you thinking about? Thinking about work?"

DW: "No, not work."

Me: "What, then?"

DW: "You'll find out."

At which point he got out of bed to go to work. Or... I assumed that was what he was going to do, since it was roundabout going-to-work time. Instead, he went to his closet for something, came back to the bed, and snuck one of his vibrators under the blanket. I hadn't seen it when he'd grabbed it out of the closet, and I was more than a little surprised by it. He teased me for a few moments, then went back to the closet... but that was just to exchange that vibrator for the one I remembered from the rope scene. After a minute or two he headed off to work, but left me with the vibrator to play with.

Vibrator #1

Vibrator #2

And wouldn't you know it... I finished. And I consider this to be something of a big deal, because it's in the category of Things That Never Worked Before. What I have learned from this very spread out series of events is that vibrators can make good partner toys and scene components, and aren't entirely useless and/or unnecessary. I probably won't opt to use them on my own, but in the right situations they can be a lot of fun. And perhaps this is also, in a way, an argument in favor of vibrators having a kink component; after all, tons of vanilla women use them, but they probably don't use them integrated into rope harnesses or as part of power-exchange scenarios. Are vibrators intrinsically kinky? I still say no. But they can integrate into kink situations very well... and that makes them worth putting in the toybox.

Know what else isn't intrinsically kinky but works well in kink situations? Ice. Which is why I've decided that I want this thing.

Kai's Conundrum of the Day

A long, long time ago, roundabout the time of my entry, I wrote that I was waiting for the day when DW would finally tell me to kneel. A few nights after that… perhaps a week… he held me close and told me that it seemed I was always waiting for him to take something from me. He told me this as he held me, yet refused to take my body as I clearly wanted him to. He told me that I wanted him to take, but hadn’t learned yet how to offer.

DW seems to have become taken with teaching me lessons through sex.

I have to say that it was not a perfect lesson. It was not a perfect lesson because it was, in its own way, contrary to the way that we have sex. I can initiate, but the one who decides when the actual sex happens is nearly always him. I might push for it sometimes, try to push my body down on his, but more often than not he’ll smile and hold me off until he decides it’s time. And so I have learned to wait for him. In this regard, I rely somewhat on him doing the taking. On the opposite side of the coin, the offer I was making to him at the time was unmistakable, and I told him so, but he looked at me and told me that he was using it to illustrate.

I wanted him to make me kneel. For a set of partners who are only in it for that one scene, for the thirty minutes or hour or two hours that make up the power exchange, the command is limited. The command lasts as long as the scene, and if the one on his or her knees decides they don’t like it all that much, they don’t have to do it again. What DW was suggesting to me is that, the way our particular dynamic works, I wouldn’t necessarily have the option of shaking off a command or an expectation once it was put on me. If he made this command for me to kneel, and I decided that it didn’t agree with me, I couldn’t just shake it off and be done with it once the hour was up.

I need to make an admission here that I still don’t fully understand what he was telling me, and that even now as I recount it I might be interpreting it incorrectly. But the gist of it is there: that I expect him to take, but I do not offer. And when you get down to it, I don’t know how to offer. Not really. I don’t know how to make an offer that doesn’t come across as implying that I am telling my dominant to do something. Saying to him, “I want you to do this,” sounds demanding to me. Sometimes I tell him something I would like to do, and he files it away in his brain for whatever time he’s good and ready to do it. Perhaps this is that I should be doing. But even that feels more like a request than an offer, and so I become stuck again with this idea of what exactly an offer is in a BDSM context. How is one meant to approach an offer? How is one meant to indicate wanting something without asking for it?

In a way, I prefer it when DW takes things from me. He knows, at least to a certain extent, what he can take, and he has not yet crossed any lines or boundaries when taking from me. Twice in the span of a week he has woken me with sex, once in the morning, once in the middle of the night. No discussion, no invitation, no words. His body claiming mine, taking his pleasure from me. Taking. There is a certain comfort in this for me, though I couldn’t really tell you why. I don’t entirely understand it myself. There is comfort in the moments when he interrupts my reading by taking the small flogger on the wall to my inner thighs, in a morning when he decides to roll me over and tease me with a vibrator before heading off to work. These are things which come without invitation, but which I always enjoy and which always make me feel loved. But when I request, when I say that there is something that I want… I never know when or if I will get it. If I say that I want to be tied, that I want to be collared, that I want to do a scene… will they ever come to pass? This is something that I can’t know. Have no way of knowing. When something is taken, it is a moment which comes without expectations. And, in its own way, it is a moment which comes unaccompanied by waiting. He says that I wait for something to be taken, but whenever he has taken something it has not been anything that I could have tangibly said I was waiting for. Events that appear when I am not looking for them.

If I request… if indeed I learn how to properly offer… I am looking. I am putting a name to something that I am waiting for. I offer my neck for the collar without knowing if or when he will take up the offer.

Take up the offer.

Take.

[Edit: DW just did a really good post about what he means by offering vs. taking... reading through it helped me a lot with some of the things I wasn't clear on as I was writing this, so I encourage you to check it out over at http://deepthoughtsandjournies.blogspot.com/2010/08/thoughts-on-control-and-submission.html.]

Kai (un)Restrained

Tonight I got stuck trying to define "playing." It went something to the effect of me telling DW I had really wanted to play this weekend--it was approaching the later end for such things, given that it's a work night--and he looked at me and asked, "What would you call earlier, then?"

Earlier. Earlier had been him biting and teasing me. Earlier had been him saying we had to go to the store, then changing his mind by way of rolling me over onto my back and pulling my pants off, burying his face between my legs. Earlier was him pinning my hands out at arm's length so that I couldn't pull away or cover my face or scratch at his arms when it got too intense for me to keep still. He kept me pinned when I thought I would cry. Took me to where I thought I would die... and kept going. The bed has anchor points for rope embedded in it, solid metal rings mounted on the frame. But we didn't use them... his hands were more than sufficient.

He has told me on occasion that one of his favorite things is watching me squirm. And he knows how to make me do that, without fail. Squirm, thrash, scream.... these things, I have no control over.

Earlier was allowing me brief recovery time before bending me over the bed and taking me, just before we left the apartment to get things for dinner.

Earlier... was something that I classified more as sex than play until he asked me how I would define it.

I tried to explain that, to me, "playing" has always involved doing a scene, so my definition defaults to scene-ing.

"Oh, so you want me to formalize it."

This, in short order, turned into me declaring that human beings do not prove ownership of a thing by licking it until it smells like them, and him disagreeing by way of very decisively licking my face.

This is another example, I think, of the bleed between the kink and the "normal." Certainly, most of the components of what we did would just as easily fit into vanilla sex. Going down on a girl isn't kinky, nor is bent-over-the-bed sex. But... add the other things, add the context, and something about what it is changes. Add his total control over what I felt. Add his hands pinning my wrists down. Add his direction of the situation, his maintaining his hold over me, the simple fact that I am his submissive. What it comes down to is that earlier could very easily be thought of as play, even without having a "formal" scene attached. And this is not something that I am very quick to realize. I wonder if other people ever experience this sort of disconnect.

In the end, though, I still very much look forward to the next time he collars me... and to the day when he finally tells me to kneel.

Kai Under Cover of Darkness

Sometimes, to serve me, you have to serve yourself.

There are times when the kink world bleeds into the vanilla world. I recognized this less when I was here last, when I largely measured the amount of kink in our life by how often we scened. There have been occasions when I have seen the bleed-through before: when we went out to dinner with a remote vibrator hidden in my pants, battery case concealed beneath my shirt; when the timbre of his voice changes to tell me that I'm on shaky ground and should watch what I do or say--the small things that come out of our interactions, whether expected or not. We did not play when he visited me at my parents' house, but we looked at toy stores online, talked through a BDSM checklist, and went out to buy me a leash. And the thing is, the small things do count. I didn't really think they did before, which perhaps had a lot to do with the small things being less frequent and less noticeable. Even now I wouldn't call them extremely frequent... but they are frequent enough, and I have come to value them.

Last night, DW held me on top of him, holding my wrists above his head, and gave me my first command. He has been working very hard towards getting me to finish without assistance during sex, and he made me promise to find what feels best to me, what works best for me, and to not hold myself back when I'm close. It isn't that I hold myself back on purpose... I don't even realize that I'm doing it. But we have talked at some length about orgasm control, and that can't even be attempted if I can't learn to let go all the way during sex. And so he told me in no uncertain terms that until the end of the evening, the sex was not about him. I was not allowed to think about it as being about him, was not allowed to see the goal as getting him to finish, was simply to focus on what felt good to me. As it says at the beginning of this entry, he told me that sometimes in order to serve him, I would have to serve myself.

It was strange, in a way. And it was good. And it was scary. And, in a way, it was still about him... because he was the one who told me that it was now my job to focus on and learn something about myself. I found what felt best to me and pushed myself into it, but the fact that he wanted it of me made it somehow more. He commanded me. I served him. I served me. Perhaps this is one of the ways in which dominants and submissives tie themselves together. And he told me about the different sides of me that he had seen: the submissive who takes pleasure in withstanding pain and the much smaller submissive who enjoys the pain itself; the submissive that is desperate to please and will do almost anything in order to do so; the nymphomaniac who will throw everything into sex and get lost in it. There might very well have been others... I might have forgotten. He held my gaze and I saw nothing outside of it while he spoke to me. It was like being in sub space, and I wonder now if maybe it was. It had so many aspects of a scene without actually being one, and, for me, broke down some of the boundary that has always separated play and sex.

I am uncertain as to whether or not I have said anything of significance with this entry... but I felt that it warranted a moment here all the same.

Story of Someone Who is Not Kai

Well... it's been longer than a week since I last posted, so apologies for that. I'm writing now from DW's place, which is now my place as well. I wouldn't say that I've completely moved in--I still have some stuff in boxes, plus a number of boxes that haven't gotten here yet--but I'm settled enough to start writing again... provided I continue to find things to say.

So, I've been saying for a while that I wanted to do an entry on Story of O, and maybe it's time I finally got around to doing that. Every time I think about this entry I get a little bit intimidated, because O deserves genuine critique on both a literary and psychological level and I don't feel this is something I can effectively provide. Or rather, if I treated this as a research paper or serious analysis I could, but what I'd like to do now is just give some of my opinions and impressions about it. Keep in mind that I haven't read any criticism/analysis of O beyond what is included in the Sabine d'Estree translation (preface by Jean Paulhan, "A Note on Story of O" by Andre Pieyre de Mandiargues), so if anything I'm saying has already been said... well, I am unaware of it.

I first read Story of O when I was last staying with DW, probably around this past February. I had heard of it, but not read it; in fact, my only impression of it revolved around one of my friends saying that they had once thought of it as a sort of warm, fuzzy beginners' guide to BDSM, and my other friends reacting in shock and disbelief. So, I figured that the book was centered around some pretty hardcore themes... and that my friend might have had a strange induction into the BDSM world.

Within the first few pages, I knew I was right--at least about the book content. But the degree of right that I was was... shocking? Upsetting? Throughout the book's prefaces, notes, and introductions, it is referred to as "a dangerous book." At least one of the writers who calls it so seems to approach it from the angle of: it is dangerous because it says something true. And perhaps it does say true things. When I told DW how wrong I felt the book was, he said that though the actions taken in the story might be bad, it does provide a certain window into the mind of a submissive. And this I think could be true. O is a submissive. She is one all the way through to her core and out again. She draws power and confidence from the abuse of her body, in a way that seems to make her transcend the world as we see and understand it; the world that she walks through grows farther and farther away from what most people would consider "reality." Even when she is in her apartment or at work, there is a certain element of "underground" that stays with her and separates her from her physical environment. And, in the "alternate ending" of the story, she chooses to die rather than live without her dominant... to which he grants his permission. In the final chapter leading up to that ending, wherein she is the Owl, there seems little of the "real" left in her at all. That, I think, is what I mean when I say that her submission allows her to transcend the world. At any rate, it is an aspect of herself that she carries and owns and so thoroughly embraces that it consumes her. In debasing herself, she becomes stronger.

But... what is done to her is terrible. She is taken to a place where her dominant and lover abandons her to be repeatedly raped and beaten, is reclaimed only to be given away and eventually forgotten about by the man who did the giving, is marked for life with the insignia of her new master who--in aforementioned "alternate ending"--ultimately decides that he no longer wants her. This is a vast paring down of the events of the book, obviously, but her interaction with the events that take place read less like erotica and more like a fascinating study on Stockholm Syndrome. She embraces a life which is forced on her--embraces it thoroughly--but that does not, in my mind, negate the abuse and dehumanization which brought her there. While I saw flashes in her of things that made sense to me on a personal level, I felt little more than revulsion in regards to the world she was brought into and the actions perpetrated on her.

I suppose that one could say that she had a choice. That she could have refused Roissy from the beginning. That she could have simply broken the thrall with the simple action of leaving. One could also say that her natural tendencies were taken advantage of and manipulated to produce desired results. One could say that she wanted it, say she was brainwashed, say she was psychologically abused. Say she was a True Submissive. Say she was insane. But when I was reading, all I could really think was that what was being done to her was monstrous.

So... what aspect is it that makes this book "dangerous"? Is it because it is BDSM erotica? Rape-fantasy erotica? Is it because it encourages an acceptance of taking joy in submission? Because it perpetrates the idea that being a dominant means dehumanizing and exercising complete control over your submissive? Paulhan thinks he knows... but Paulhan makes a mistake in saying that O proves something about women in general, not about submissives:

"At last a woman who admits it! Who admits what? Something that women have always refused till now to admit (and today more than ever before). Something that men have always reproached them with: that they never cease obeying their nature, the call of their blood, that everything in them, even their minds, is sex. That they have constantly to be nourished, constantly washed and made up, constantly beaten. That all they need is a good master, one who is not too lax or kind: for the moment we make any show of tenderness they draw upon it, turning all the zest, joy, and character at their command to make others love them. In short, that we must, when we go to see them, take a whip along."

Actually, I would not even say that this statement is something that O proves about submissives... I would not say that O proves anything about any category of people. The character of O isn't Women, isn't Submissives, isn't Victims. O is O, and even at her most dehumanized there is something that makes her herself.

I don't know how convoluted I have gotten in this entry, or how my thoughts may have contradicted each other, or even if I have said everything I wanted to say. There is one other thing, though, that I think is worth noting... if only for the fact that it does not appear in any of the notes preceding the story: the perfectness of O's name in expressing what she is. Maybe it never needed stating, which is why it wasn't noted, but see... it is open. It is inclusive. It is empty and waiting. And it can never close.

Kai Can't Guard the Chicken Coop... partly because no chickens

I want to apologize for the abrupt stretch of downtime this blog has experienced... in other words, the few days that have gone by without new posts. Shortly after DW went back home, I got my act together and bought a plane ticket. We've been talking for what feels like a very long time about me coming back to live with him, but now it's actually been set and I feel like everything's moving forward again.

The way in which this relates to my lack of recent posting: A couple of days ago I was whacked upside the head with the enormity of actually moving. Not packing a suitcase to live in another country for a few years, not packing a suitcase to stay with a friend for a couple of months, but packing up a very solid portion of my belongings with the intent of being really, truly out of my parents' house. I've been On My Own for around four years (plus living at college for the four before that, whatever that's worth), most of which was spent out of the country. I've made my own money, paid all my living expenses, handled my bank accounts... all that good stuff that goes with being a Responsible Grown-Up. (At least, all the stuff that goes with it in Japan. America is apparently a bit different.) However, during all of that time, most of my things stayed put in the family home. So....... technically I've never done a full-scale Moving Out.

And it's terrifying.

It's not... cripplingly terrifying. But it's daunting and huge and a commitment. And I don't know how much stuff I should leave here and how much of the room I should pack. And I have a four day wedding to go to. And most of the jobs I applied to where DW lives turned me down.

With all of this, I just haven't been able to pull my brain around to writing here. If I can, I'll try for a new entry tonight. If not... well, I imagine the longest I'll be absent here is about a week.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Kai's Compendium of Casual Kink

A couple of posts ago, DW referred to me as a "casual kink." After reading the post, I learned that, though he stood by classifying me that way, he expected me to feel insulted by it. He didn't want me to feel insulted, but figured that I would be. So then I started thinking... why would I be insulted by it? Comparatively speaking, DW has a lot more experience in the kink scene than I do. He's had stable play partners who have lasted on the order of a few months, and tried out actual "kink relationships." And it's very true what he says: that I've had a number of play partners, none of whom did I scene with often. And, as I've said time and again, I've never integrated kink into a relationship.

So... all of these things are true. And yet, there was this idea that I would take the remark about being a "casual kink" badly. So I thought: why would that be? Granted, it's not as though I've never taken anything the wrong way before. I've been getting better over the last several years, but I'd be kidding myself if I said I'd never been affronted by something that wasn't at all meant to offend. But I think, when you get down to it, being a "casual" anything is often perceived in the spheres of the experienced as... well, not worth much. If you read a graphic novel every now and then, you'll probably still be scoffed at by your friend who has shelves of them and can recite entire comic book chronologies to you... not to mention which artists worked on it for what years and which writers were really good versus those who (in their personal opinion) ran whatever series into the ground, etc. If you read a couple of books on neuroscience and try to apply what you know, someone who actually has familiarity with it might commend the effort, but ultimately make it clear that you don't actually know what you're talking about. Go on a study abroad to Thailand and suddenly realize that even though you have now officially spent more time there than most Americans (in the case that you yourself are American... if not, insert nationality here), you've got nothing on the career expats who have been living there for the pasts 10-20 years. This applies to, basically, everything. A "casual" interest in/relationship to something carries around a certain degree of n00b status that can feel really tough to shake... even if that casual interest/relationship has been part of your life for several years.

In the case of me and kink, I personally don't feel as though I deserve n00b status. The "casual" label? Sure. After all, I haven't ever done scenes with the same partner more than twice, and I definitely haven't ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend with whom I shared any sort of kink dynamic. I'm not on any message boards, have never been to a kink club (was offered a membership once, but I didn't have a partner at the time and didn't want to go by myself), and just don't have a foothold anywhere in what could be considered "the scene," online or off. However, I feel that the level of awareness that I have regarding kink should be enough to wipe off the n00b-ness. Or... I would very much hope so. But it's just such a tricky thing, because hey... there's lots of stuff I haven't done. So perhaps at best I can say that I've more or less established myself as a casual kink, but as a non-casual kink I'm still totally n00b-tastic. Then again, if I were to stay involved with kink but never move beyond a casual relationship with the kink world, would I always carry some form of n00b status around with me? Would there be a certain level of acknowledgement that I would simply never attain? And would it really matter to me?

Superficially, I think it would. If there's something I've been doing for a few years, even if just at a surface level, I chafe at being treated like a novice. I'd rather have a reputation and image based on the things that I have done rather than the things that I haven't. Though I wasn't able to hold onto kink in my life after college, having it offered back to me as a prospect has meant a lot to me. It was like having a light switched on after a spell in the dark. Because of the place it holds for me, I know I wouldn't like it if someone more hardcore than me gave me the patronizing, "D'awwwwww, Kai's trying to be kinky... how cute!" It sort of... diminishes what I have and what I'm in the process of building for myself. Perhaps what I am trying to say is that there are some casual kinks to whom their brand of kink isn't a novelty, frivolity, or naughty experiment; rather, the casualness might result from the type of balance they wish to maintain with the rest of what makes up their life, or from personal limits, or from simply the level of interest that they have.

A relevant digression: DW once told me that he'd really like the amount of kink between us to be more than once a weekend or once every other weekend. The last time I stayed with him, I knew that I definitely wanted more than that. It was a mutual bit of misfortune that, on account of long work hours and other factors, he didn't actually feel like playing as often as I did. Hence, we only had one scene together during that time. This was sad for me, because in my mind I was rolling around to the conclusion that I'm more than a weekender. I don't know how much more, because I have not yet been offered a solid opportunity to find out. I can make every mental composite in the world, but until I have the compatible experiences I can't come to a solid conclusion. DW will sometimes ask about how much I want to give to a kink relationship, and the only real answer I can give is, well, I don't know yet because I haven't been able to see what it feels like. I know that I want to play more than once every eight weeks. I know that I like it when his dom personality comes out, even when we're not in a directly sexual context. I know that he has a voice that, when he uses it, comforts me and holds me to him. I know that sometimes I want much more than what I have had the opportunity to experience.

But for all of this rambling on the topic, I can look at my experience to date and say, "Yeah... I'm casual right now." And that's a pretty accurate statement. I'm casual right now. Maybe in some time that isn't "right now," I'll move into a different phase of it. Maybe after I've moved back in with DW we'll be able to explore more possibilities and I'll see how much farther--if at all, though I imagine it will at least be some--I want to take it. Maybe it turns out that I stay around the same level, and if this is what happens then I hope he will still keep me. Or maybe it turns out that I learn to integrate more and more D/s into my life and move closer to where he seems to be. Maybe past that.

This entire entry has been a very fancy way of saying: I don't know... but that's okay.

And if you're someone like me who doesn't totally know yet, either... it's okay for you, too.