Like I’ve said before, I rather think that my streak of S&M has been the reason, or one of the reasons, for my previous non-consensual experiences and abusive relationships. See, if I’d only been able to fully understand and communicate, let alone accept, my inclination to be hurt, bound and degraded, I wouldn’t have had to try to manipulate myself into situations and relationships that played out those exact themes, just without the safety of intended, negotiated play. It was real alright, just like I hinted on my last post about the safeword I didn’t even realize I had.
Clarisse Thorn has written – for once! – how she’s full of the stigma concerning BDSM and the supposed abusive past all of us kinksters share. She’s made it a point to flip the tables and describe kinksters as someone who have the gene for superpowers. She describes, how kinksters are more aware of people’s emotions, their physical and psychological responses, they are better at communicating and understanding limits, also honouring said limits, and kink also seems to create intimacy in a way nothing else will. (This has also come up in research, so it’s not all just hearsay.)
She makes a good point in showing what we’re missing, when we only concentrate on the acts and how violent or non-violent we see them as. In my opinion every sexual act would probably seem violent and gross to us, if we didn’t have the cultural backgroung for interpreting them. I we didn’t understand that those people wanted to be touched that way.
I agree wit Clariesse that we should start speaking up. Would I have gone the way I did, getting myself in trouble time after time, if I’d been able to recognice the desire I had? If it hadn’t been so stigmatized that I mostly thought I was somehow broken and deserved to be treated like shit on top of everything else. (Deserved, not wanted.)
And talk about being stigmatized. Kinksters all over the globe are trying to force into people’s heads that the difference between BDSM and abuse is (not just) consent. But just like you don’t have to enjoy or have penetrative sex, you can’t categorically rule out certain physical acts from healthy sexuality just because some people (even most) don’t have the inclination to act them out.
Well, throw in some 24/7 power exchange and even feminist kinksters have trouble facing it. We’ve just come to terms with the consensuality thang. Don’t overdo it.
You can even hit someone, if they consent to it – enthusiasticly. But what about consenting to not having a say on what’s going down, and not even in the bedroom, but most of your life? Kinda scary, ain’t it?
Lori Adorable goes on to address the certainly bothering arrangament of consensual non-consent in a 24/7 power exchange, which I also find truly bothersom. She manages to keep her cool even in a discussion with Mae, who is in such a relationship with her master. Mae seems intelligent, self-aware and emotionally healthy. She really makes me question my iffy feelings on consensual non-consent (CNC).
And why should it be so hard for me to understand or accept? I play with CNC almost every time I have sex with my wonderful Wonderboy and it’s nothing if not caring, loving and exactly what I want.
I guess, what makes me uncomfortable is the question of not being able to negotiate. Sometimes Wonderboy pushes me over the edge and it makes me uncomfortable. I need to know, that in a few minutes or hours we’ll be out of it and can have a rational discussion and he’ll show me how it was really all meant for my benefit as well as his.
For example, he hit me today in the face while making love, too many times for my liking. I got a bit agitated, a bit hurt, when he did it. But when he kept on slapping I felt my pussy subjugate to his power. It throbbed. It clenched around his penis locking it in. No matter how I felt, my body had its own response. He listened to my body. He kept going.
After sex, though, I was a little fragile. I enjoyed everything thoroughly, but sometimes it’s hard to keep the emotional mess at bay, when he’s hurt me a lot. It doesn’t matter that I wanted it, that I needed it (in order to come even). It is also something that we’re used to see as a insult, a threat. Wonderboy cuddled with me, kissing me and hugging me and listening to my worry and taming my building tears. Then he decided to offer to lick me. It wasn’t imperative, because I’d come, but he felt that giving me something only meant for my pleasure would probably most effectively erase the ambivalent feelings I had lingering in my brain.
He was right.
When he started, I could feel his tongue so forceful on my still hurting pussy lips. I told him, Could you please tease me. He did it so eagerly, made me suffer, not letting me come, when I was already so close, clinging with my legs to his body, trying tu push my pelvis up into his mouth. I came, because he played the game so well, teased me like I wasn’t supposed to come.
But that’s just it. How would he have known how to make me feel better, if I wasn’t allowed to show my discontent? If I had to take whatever he planned for me. If he wouldn’t raise me up again, with him, safely.
That would be abuse. Right?
But the point I’m trying to make, in my own never ending way, is that it’s not the abuse that built my sexuality. It was my sexuality that built my abuse – and that happened because there was no way for me to reconcile love and a healthy relationship with the things I wanted done to me. Because the society at large was jumping the gun with these sic pervs, who torture each other with sex games that cause even deaths. No tour guide on egalitarianism ever taught me that I can also love pain, degradation, submitting. That as a feminist woman my sexuality is as a matter of fact entirely up to my deep rooted desires, and no one can judge them.
Here Lori speaks about trying to change her ways from a submissive woman to probably something more vanilla. I guess I did too, and look where it got me. 30 years worth of life and play and only now do I come to terms with the quality of my desires. Only now do I finally not feel threatened by them. Only now do I finally want to stay with just one person, feel connected, deeply loved and cared for, deeply desired. This could’ve been an easier road, you know. I could’ve done without a lot of the hurt.
If kink was just a sexual preference like any other.