REDIRECTED TO MAYBEMAIMED.COM: Maybe Maimed but Never Harmed

I cycle a lot. (Not a surprise, really, for many reasons, but moving on….) Sometimes I'm all submissive and hurt-me-use-me and sometimes I'm not.

I haven't felt very submissive lately. Not "not submissive" in the sense that now I'm a top or a dominant, not like "oh, see, you're a guy so you're not really submissive anyway." I fucking hate that crap, which is the same thing as "you're a woman so you're really a submissive, at least a little bit."

I feel like anyone, anyone who's expecting me to get down on my knees for them is going to get smacked upside the head. Get me on my knees? Hah. Laughable. Because secretly, you see, I am actually the incredible hulk and when I am irritable or angry—or not feeling submissive—I become the emotional equivalent of a raging juggernaught. Only way you'll see me on my knees is in seven-inch thick steel, because I could break anything thinner and I would actually take a bullet before I voluntarily unlock my knee.

I don't like that I don't really understand why or where this comes from. I probably would enjoy the seven-inch thick steel, but I'm probably too ornery to actually make it a good scene.

Maybe it's been all the tech geekery that's turned me off from the submission for now (temporarily, I assure you; this has happened before). I spend all my time "being productive" and then when I'm feeling this way playing just feels like a waste of time. Like I could be doing something better with my time, as stupid as that sounds.

I am very picky about who and what gets access to my time. My time is very valuable to me. I only have so much of it. I've already used up 23 years of it. I loathe the idea of wasting anything.

I typically don't spend time thinking about things I don't care about. I get angry at people who I need to interact with when they are slow, physically or mentally. Of course, sexual playtime is hardly what most would call a waste of time, but I digress.

Naturally, this is sometimes problematic relationship-wise. Eileen calls it "not being in sync" (or something like that?) which sounds an awful lot like biorhythms, something I'm skeptical about at best. Still, there's no denying the cyclic nature of everything about me, which itself would be a complete summation if I were willing to accept it as such. (I'm not, of course.)

When "not in sync," however, what happens? One of us gets frustrated, in the bad way, about not getting to do what we want. "It's been a long time since you've wanted to get hurt," Eileen tells me a lot. "You used to get all moany when I pulled your hair, now you just say 'ow.'" I had to remind her: "I was all moany at the fact that there was a beautiful and sexy dominant woman paying attention to me. The hair pulling always made me go ow." (Yes, Eileen's attentions were my first that count. Being pissy about that is another rant entirely.)

Relationships cycle just like I do. Or maybe my relationships cycle because I do. Whatever it is, it's pissing me off. But don't try to put me on my knees because I will hurt you.

Tech geekery in both my professional and personal life has kept me away from this blog for a short while, but it was relationship angst that initiated the suspension of my time here. I got upset with Eileen for one reason or another (it doesn't really matter for this entry).

When you're in a relationship—any relationship—it can be hard to express being upset. When you're in a relationship that's specifically structured around power imbalances and the notion that things are unfair, it's that much harder to express being upset. Being actually angry doesn't always even present itself as an option.

Something somewhat astonishing to me is the fact that a lot of people who are enticed by the "things are unfair" idea seem to think this kind of emotional repression is actually the way such relationships are supposed to work, and that there's nothing wrong with that. Some people even use phrases like "Master/slave relationship" or "protocols" or other intelligent-sounding words to codify this behavior into a full-fledged system or "lifestyle."

Ultimately, this is not actually so hard to understand. Like so many other things, this behavior is an example of people structuring their relationships around their fantasies instead of structuring their fantasies around their relationships. The trap is in a particularly persistent blind spot most people have: their sexual desires.

Kink in Exile articulates one manifestation of this so clearly that I simply have to quote her:

I have seen more than one d/s relationship that seemed to be founded on at least one of the partner’s fear of being an adult and having to make decisions. Explain to me again how you willingly give power to your master or mistress if you don’t have that power to begin with? Submitting has to come from a place of power and control over your life, otherwise what’s the point? Otherwise you are not handing control of your life or even your evening over to your dominant, you are seeking out a caretaker.

Of course, doing anything like this is what we tech geeks call a Bad Thing. When people do this, they consistently fail to identify distinctions between different components of their relationship to one another and in doing so they often fail to address even the most basic of relationship concerns. In other words, a slave in a "Master/slave relationship" is still a person in a relationship first, and a slave second.

There's this concept of layers, or more technically a stack, that is fundamental to the construction of many things in our world today. The basic idea is that one layer builds upon the things it receives from the layer beneath it and provides things to build upon to the layer above it. In this way, a robust and reliable system can be developed—and maintained—by segmenting different pieces of the system.

I think that a D/s relationship could benefit from a construction similar to this. It's the way I think about my relationship with Eileen. I am at once her friend, her lover, her boyfriend, and her slave. Indeed, I am her slave because I am her boyfriend, and I am her boyfriend because I am her lover, and I am her lover because I am her friend.

Our relationship developed in a decidedly organic way; right place, right time, right person. I'd been playing for long before I met her, and I'd been looking for submission in a number of venues. When I didn't find fertile ground, I thought maybe submission wasn't for me. That's why I was a self-described bottom and not "a submissive." Of course, I'm submissive now to Eileen but this is because submission is the top (or last) layer that rests upon quite a few other things.

It turns out that, at least for me, any meaningful submission requires a foundation of both friendship and sexual attraction. Only once these things are established does the opportunity for submission seem to be present.

Being aware of this construction helps in many ways. One of the first questions I ask myself these days when confronting some kind of emotional obstacle (or novelty) is: "In which layer does this interaction belong?"

For instance, it's clear that asking for her permission before I allow myself the pleasure of an orgasm is an interaction that belongs in the D/s dynamic we've engaged in. Thus, it's a higher-layer interaction, and it relies on the well-being of lower layers. Contrastingly, cleaning the bathtub because it's dirty and we don't want our drain to clog is probably something that belongs in the friendship layer; I'd do that for any roommate, not just one that sexually dominates me. As Tom puts it, doing nice things for each other is one of the lubricants of a good relationship.

For the first time in over a year, I asked Eileen for a break from orgasm denial that weekend when I was feeling upset. I had already accidentally had two orgasms, felt terrible about them, and was in an emotional state in which I couldn't deal with maintaining that explicit D/s dynamic because the boyfriend dynamic was having trouble. Of course, this was an extreme case, but it serves as a useful illustrative example of this concept in action.

This entire concept is, of course, a drastic simplification of emotional interactions. Obviously, I clean the tub sometimes because I am submissive, and I'll ask for an orgasm because I'm Eileen's lover and my own sexual gratification is served by the asking. The difference between theory and practice, is, of course, that in theory practice is the same as theory whereas in practice they are different.

That said, the point still stands. When there are problems, you need to address them at the layer or with an approach that actually confronts the issue, instead of sidestepping it. That's what Eileen and I do when we have issues to work out. She never pulls the "but I'm your Mistress" card when we're not dealing with an issue that's a part of the D/s layer. It would be harmful to do so.

This image has been removed. The new photo is still available at the current mirror blog site.

This Kink on Tap is kind of an extended addendum to our previous episode where we talk about and introduce the topic of sexual teasing and denial and chastity play. If you haven't listened to that episode already, I strongly urge you to do so.

The best part, however, is that Tom Allen from the Edge of Vanilla joined Eileen and I to talk about his personal experiences. Of course, the advantage of having someone on the phone is that you can ask personal qusetions and get immediate, personal responses.

There's no shortage of that in this converastion, where Tom shares a lot about his own reasons for enjoying chastity, the way in which this kind of sexual power play developed in the relationship with his (very blessed) wife, and of course why this kink in particular is often thought of as being very "vanilla." I couldn't help but share some of my own opinions and experiences as well, and Eileen does the same.

Lest you think that Tom's always this cerebral, however, don't forget about his super-hot chastity porn. My own fantasies tend to drift towards slightly more painful tastes, but that doesn't stop me from being the first to admit that I've sprung more than my fair share of hard-ons looking at Tom's stuff.

As always, I hope you enjoy this episode of Kink on Tap and invite your feedback of any kind (though especially regarding audio engineering) either as comments here or by emailing kinkontap+feedback@gmail.com. Have something you want to hear talked about or a story you want to share? Write to me at kinkontap+viewermail@gmail.com (and don't question why it's called viewer mail, 'cuz I wouldn't know what to tell you).

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I've never been a manly man. When I was younger, I watched quite a bit of television. I remember lots of the imagery I was presented with quite vividly. In almost every case, I wanted to be the girls. Growing up, I quickly learned that wanting to be more like the girls was a desire frowned upon by pretty much everybody else—not least of all, by the girls.

These days, the same things still come up in daily conversation as they did in years past. "I wish I could lose ten more pounds—I don't feel pretty," I hear women say all the time. In response, everyone simultaneously begins talking about the oppressive nature of our culture's media campaigns. "Oh, come on. You don't have to look like every model in the magazines. You're smart, you're kind; of course you're hot," they'll say to her in an effort to comfort and sympathize.

Most of the time, I think women's self-image issues are physically, though not emotionally, unfounded. All but one of my girlfriends were, to use the obvious example, heavier than the BMI charts would have them feel comfortable about. My femdom fantasies have always been tilted toward larger girls. Hula dancers were an ironic motif, but I attribute this mostly to the healthier, more attractive weight Hawaiian girls tend to carry. I'll never understand the fetish for stick-figure girls. That can be sexy but I think women are sexier if they're shapely.

Issues men may have with their body image, however, are almost never even recognized. If they are, they discuss how unmanly boys feel and offer ways to feel more manly. Nothing we see in our culture tells boys that it's okay to want to feel pretty, to want to be treated in ways similar to the way we see people treating girls. If a boy, like me, wanted that, they call him a sissy and expect him to want to feel bad about it. I find this fact, an association often cited between cross-dressing and humiliation, nothing less than repulsive.

Furthermore, every time I've ever hinted at having body image issues of any kind at all, a very strange thing happens. Rather than address these issues, people turn to my girlfriend and give her a once-over. Then, they turn back to me. "How can you think of yourself as not attractive?" They ask, puzzled. "Your girlfriend is so hot."

Granted, my girlfriend is hot. But what, pray tell, does that have to do with my own self-image? You've just told me that my own self-image should be measured by how hot my girlfriend is. Call me crazy, but my girlfriend's attractiveness should not be the scale by which I measure my own.

Is that what you'd say to a fat girl, by the way? Oh, you're totally sexy because your boyfriend is super skinny. What kind of logic is that? It's not only completely missing the point, it doesn't make her feel better. In fact, it often makes her feel worse. And that's exactly what doing that does to me: it makes me feel worse.

Why is it a taboo to discuss men on the basis of their looks? Even in romance novels, where the gallant and obligatorily handsome man plays center stage, most descriptions about his looks center on his other attributes. His strong muscles. His virile penis. His healthy hair. It's not about the way he looks, it's about what he can offer in every other realm; wealth, health, or power. Even here, men's sexual attractiveness is being judged on everything except their looks. This is crazy.

To top it off, even the pretty men, who were called the derogatory term "twinks" in gay slang for quite a while, are usually portrayed in as decidedly not delicate a manner as possible; sweating profusely, working out, doing some manly chore, or otherwise being rough and tumble. The message? Be ruggedly handsome, sure, but don't be pretty.

By this culture's dogma, being pretty is a woman's job. Women are the ones who are "supposed to" do the attracting; men are supposed to be attracted. But this is insulting, and unfair. Wanting to feel pretty often goes hand-in-hand with wanting to be pursued. The emotions are the same: love me, I'm precious. But being pursued is the woman's job, as if they are the only ones allowed to feel as though they are precious and worthy of loving attentions.

This whole fucked-up mess does a lot of things for men. It makes us get paid more at work. It makes it easier for us to attract people into old age (where, I'm sorry, looks are just not going to follow). It makes it harder to objectify us in ways we don't want. And, unfortunately, it makes it a lot harder for us to talk about body image issues—especially if you're like me and you don't even want to have the traditional Vin-Diesel-the-body-builder look and instead want to look like the lithe, nubile, pretty young things you only see cast in the gender role of supreme femininity.

Well, I have a confession to make. I like dressing up as a girl because, in part, it makes me feel pretty. It does this because putting on frilly panties is the only time I feel the culture in which I live is telling me that I might actually get away with being pretty.

This confession, low and behold, is not uncommon. Men who want to feel pretty end up wanting to emulate women because we have no other choice. Why can men, secure in their masculinity, not also be pretty? Even the dictionary is stupendously unhelpful here. Defining "pretty" results in this definition from Princeton's web dictionary:

pleasing by delicacy or grace; not imposing; "pretty girl"; "pretty song"; "pretty room"

(Emphasis added by yours truly.)

I have been called graceful. I have also been called delicate. I've been called pleasing a bunch more times than these other two things combined.

People I don't know ask me if I dye my hair when they look at its color in the sun (I don't). They ask me if I've ever played the piano when they notice the way my fingers curl around cups as I drink (I haven't). They have remarked on how carefully I treat all my belongings, and how thoughtful I am when I am hosting a guest. But they have never called me pretty.

It may surprise some of you to hear this, but Eileen is actually the first person I have known that has called me pretty. She is fond of my ass and these days I might call it one of the prettiest parts of me, but it was not always this way.

One night many years ago, well before I even consciously thought about why I kept wanting to feel pretty, I was lounging with my then-girlfriend in the bedroom I shared with my brother. I remember only a single sentence from the conversation we had that night. It was this sentence that my girlfriend said to me that cued six years of body image issues centered around my butt: "I would like it if your ass was firmer."

What did firmer mean, anyway? It meant that I should have more of a boy's body. I didn't have a muscular gluteus maximus; I didn't have the body of a strong, rugged, self-respecting man. But you know what, I didn't want that body, either. And that should've been okay.


Addendum: For those interested in a bit more academic self-education (the best kind, if you ask me), I would highly suggest reading the Wikipedia articles on sissyphobia and effeminacy, for a start.

A particular passage of interest is cited below, and serves as a wonderful example of the fact that cultural ideals change with time. My message in this post, if you are to take one from it that I did not actually intend when I started, would be to stay aware of this constantly changing cultural stereotype—in all cultures and in all situations—and to avoid letting cultural noncompliance result in prejudiced or oppressive actions of any kind.

Pre-Stonewall "closet" culture accepted homosexuality as effeminate behaviour, and thus emphasized camp, drag, and swish including an interest in fashion (Henry, 1955; West, 1977) and decorating (Fischer 1972; White 1980; Henry 1955, 304). Masculine gay men did exist but were marginalised (Warren 1972, 1974; Helmer 1963) and formed their own communities, such as leather and Western (Goldstein, 1975), and/or donned working class outfits (Fischer, 1972) such as sailor uniforms (Cory and LeRoy, 1963). (Levine, 1998, p.21-23, 56)

Post-Stonewall, "clone culture" became dominant and effeminacy is now marginalised. One indicator of this is a definite preference shown in personal ads for masculine-behaving men (Bailey et al 1997).

My personal experiences written above are likely the result of my interaction with New York City's leather subculture, as that community is my primary social outlet (for now).

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This morning a friend asked me to give her an image that turns me on, followed by an image that is iconic of a "top" or a "domme" and then to determine whether the answers to those two questions share any key visual elements. Yes, this friend's really smart, by the way.

In response, I told her that the first thing that popped into my mind of an image that turns me on was Eileen's lips and tongue during the blowjob she unexpectedly gave me last night, but that's only because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for the past twelve hours or so. In fact, if my friend had asked me for an image that turns me on another day, I probably wouldn't have said blowjobs at all.

The last significant mouth-on-penis action I've received hasn't been for more than two and a half years. Before that I wasn't even that excited about blowjobs. Handjobs always felt better to me anyway, so I wasn't very interested in getting them, though I don't think I ever turned down the opportunity. All my partners were far more skilled with their hands than their mouths anyway but more interestingly—and more to the point—I liked handjobs more because it was easier to bottom to them.

Few men can deny the fact that having someone else's hands around your genitals can be a vulnerable position. Of course, it isn't always intended that way (unless you're me, in which case it probably is) but our culture is saturated with images and stories of men's genitals being vulnerable in the hands of women. It's even in our slang: "She has got me by the balls" means that I am well and truly dominated by her control of the situation. I'm not sure why this is supposed to be a bad thing (</sarcasm>), but it is.

Contrast this with any imagery of blowjobs displayed by popular culture and the exact reverse is true. For some reason, people seem to think that putting your penis in someone else's mouth gives you some kind of control over the situation and makes the person whose mouth is around your genitals submissive. This has always been somewhat baffling to me, because it is far easier to hurt my penis with your teeth than it is to hurt it with your hands. Is my penis somehow more vulnerable to teeth than a so-called "Alpha Male"'s is? I'd love to know if it is, as I've unfortunately had no experience putting real live penises in my mouth.

(As an aside: if you want me to feel submissive while you make me go down on your cock then you should use something along the lines of a ring gag (NSFW) while you do it. Not that there aren't other ways to make fellatio into a submissive act—you could close my nose so I have trouble breathing, or hold a knife at my neck, or you could just whisper in my ear that you know how badly I want to drown the back of my throat in ejaculate, but the point is that it's all about how you do what you're doing.)

I think blowjobs are so riddled with unnecessary connotations of submission that whenever my previous partners went down on me they were, in effect, submitting. (As another aside, these particular past partners were for the most part submissive women, which I'm sure had something to do with it. Why my dating history has a 3-to-1 ratio of submissive women to dominant women is, however, another frustrating post entirely.) While I enjoy sexual stimulation from a talented mouth as much as the next man, girls who go down on me with a disposition that is solely intended to please are just not as sexy as the ones who do it with a mind for taking control of me.

There are two times in life when people will show you their true emotions. The first is during a round of poker. The second is during sex.

It should probably be obvious, but maybe it's not: submissive men like assertive blowjobs, not amiable ones. In fact, in case one thing doesn't lead you to the other, submissive men like assertiveness and control in general. We like assertive handjobs and masturbation, fucking (of many varieties), kissing, and pussy-licking. In other words, we enjoy all the very same sexual acts anyone else does, but what we enjoy most about them is the assertiveness and control of our dominant partners.

So when Eileen took hold of my wrist and placed it behind my back as she enveloped my penis with her throat, I nearly shuddered from the hotness. There was the key visual element that combined one of the sexiest things I have ever seen with my iconic image of female dominance: assertive and control, wanting me and taking me. She took me, this time, with her mouth.

She licked my cock from base to head and from head to base, not in worship to me but in her own indulgence. Whereas before I was used to blowjobs being a rather piston-like up and down motion or a stationary sucking sensation (penises aren't straws, by the way), Eileen's mouth slowly travelled all over my shaft. When she combined a powerful suction on my penis' corona with vertical strokes from her tongue I had to say it out loud: "I'm going to orgasm if you keep doing that." And in response, she eased up just enough to make it possible for me not to come.

In response to my friend's second question asking for an iconic image of a "top" or "domme," I responded that to come up with one is actually pretty difficult. After all, there are so many different looks that I associate with dominance. Does the so-called iconic female dominant have long hair or short hair? Is she dressed in tight clothing or is she lounging in bathrobes? It can all be hot.

So my answer was that an image iconic of a female top or domme for me, at that moment when she asked, was a tall woman wearing jeans that shows off her ass nicely and some kind of tank-top-like shirt, probably black. It's comfortable yet sexy—sexy because she's comfortable. And in my fantasies, she's holding something, like a knife in her right hand and a coiled rope in her left, not to be too specific about it. (I realized later that I was actually just describing Eileen in one of her more playful moods, but that's besides the point right now.)

Clearly I have a thing for the outdoorsy look, but what I really have a thing for is the confident type. This should be no secret (and if it is, I pity you and would like to invite you to listen especially close right now), but confidence is always sexy. Always. It's sexy to me when you look into my eye and feel confident enough to know you can make me hard just by licking your lips.

Confidence is about being sexy, regardless of orientation or activity. Assertiveness and control is about taking that confidence and applying it to a particular sexual power dynamic. Like, you know, leaving me literally laughing on our bed from desperate arousal after giving me the most dominant blowjob I've ever felt and then smiling as you tell me there's not a chance you'll let me orgasm tonight.

I've been thinking about this all day, intending to satiate myself with my own musings, however I think that the firestorm of outrage could use a little level-headedness. Not that the outrage is misguided, unexpected, or even inappropriate. I'm pretty outraged myself, but outrage does very little to ease my own need for understanding. Only rational thought can fan those flames.

Smart people are very good at rationalizing things, by the way. History is full of examples of smart people doing lots of things with lots of reasons. Reasons are one of the things humans are best at manufacturing, even though we are not as good at reasoning about them. We construct meaning for our own purposes very much in the same way that we eat or drink or breathe or sleep. We are built to do it even though it can be pretty difficult to accomplish at times. We can't help ourselves, and it's rather a helpful thing that we can't, too! It would be pretty horrible to live a life without any meaning, wouldn't you say?

Understanding that is the first step towards rationalizing your reasoning, whether you are trying to reason through thought, action, or emotion. (The latter is particularly difficult due to our particular neurological evolution, but possible nonetheless.) In other words, know that your reasons are meaningful only because you have given them meaning. If it were not for that, your life would be meaningless. It should not be a disheartening insight if you understand the empowering nature of such a statement.

But I digress. This is about the idea of supremacy, that one person, place, or thing (we'll call these options a noun, collectively) is superior to another, different noun. Here are a few examples of nouns that I've heard many people compare with one another throughout my lifetime:

• Apples and oranges.


• Glasses and contact lenses.


• City dwellers and suburban dwellers.


• Democrats and Republicans.


• Americans and foreigners to Americans.


• Men and women.


• Heterosexual people and people who are not heterosexual.


• Light-skinned people and dark-skinned people.


• Jewish people and Christian people (and Muslim people and Hindu people and on and on and on).

Here's one funny thing about such comparisons, in case it wasn't clear to you from the list above: each set of nouns contains members which share an enormous number of characteristics. In my experience encountering comparisons intended to determine superiority, this rule of likeness has never been broken. Actually, I am eager for the day when it will be. On that day I will have met someone "truly" deranged.

Apples and oranges are both fruits, glasses and contact lenses are both corrective eye-wear, and (I did focus on the human comparisons purposefully) the rest are all humans. I have never heard an apple compared to a Jewish person, for example, nor have I heard a woman compared to a pair of glasses. Why? Well, naturally, it's because the comparison to determine superiority in a way people can get emotionally invested in requires the act of measuring both nouns against the perceived value of a common property.

That is to say, in order to determine that one thing is superior to the other and have people care about it, your measurement must measure a characterstic that both things have. If you instead measure a characteristic that only one of your member things have then no half-thinking or half-feeling person would give your comparison any meaningful meaning. (See what I did there? I went back to the meaning thing from the beginning of the entry. Remember that. It'll come up again, I promise.) What does it mean to make something meaningful? It means to give that opinion weight, to use it as the basis for your reasoning and the motivation behind your actions, whatever they may be.

There are some very smart people who use this argument to try and prove the idea of absolute superiority of one form or another, citing nuance or complexity to hide their absolutism. The previous link, in particular, leads to a man named Alexis's writings, who believes in the potential superiority of all women over men.

Alexis (who is very clearly superior in his intelligence when measured for such things by means of analyzing his grammar, punctuation, vocabulary, and the like), says the following—after a very long-winded but informational digression about the merits of apples over oranges or vice versa—about making such comparisons:

My point: accepting any measure as a guideline means that one option will not rate as high as the other option. And it is the measure that is argued, not the superiority of the two options. Statistically, by changing the measure you change the results.

Preceeded immediately by this (in my opinion very accurate) statement:

If we could ever get two people to agree on the subject of what measure could be used as a guideline.

This is, unfortunately and unsurprisingly, a circular argument. A measure of superiority without defining superiority of or in a specific something is not a persuasive argument because it is statistically (and otherwise) meaningless. (Oh, there it is again! Did you see it?)

To combat that very simple point, reasons are concocted. For example, the argument changes from an absolute statement "Women are superior to men" to a qualified statement "Women are potentially superior to men" to a theory "Women are potentially superior to men if they can be shown to be smarter/stronger/better/whatever" to a belief "Women who have been proven to be smarter/stronger/better/whatever are superior to men." Is it just me, or is it smelling a little One True Way® in here all of a sudden?

God bless our puny mortal souls and our meaningless lives. (Sorry, I couldn't help myself. The opportunity for satire is rather irresistable.)

The problem with all this is, I dearly hope, obvious by now (especially since the really smart female supremacists said it first, even if they may have missed the point a little): you're not going to get everyone to agree. The disagreements aren't about measures to use for determining one gender or sex's superiority over the other. They are about the idea that any one measure or collection of specific measures are an accurate depiction of unqualified superiority whether it is applied to gender, race, religion, or anything else.

I can disprove absolutist remarks stated as fact. I can't (and won't try to) disprove belief. Neither can they.

Wow. How anti-climactic. I know, I'm almost disappointed, too.

I have this lovely little buddy icon of this pretty boy on the floor, leaning back wearing a sweater jacket that reads, "Protect me from the things I want." I love that icon because the boy looks so sultry and so vulnerable and so seductive and so helpless all at the same time. I want to be that boy. (I also want that boy, but that's another entry entirely.)

Why is it that I want the things I don't want to actually happen to me. And do I really want them to happen to me for real or do I just like the threat of them happening?

Mean things. (Backhand me.) Deadly things. (Suffocate me.) Bloody things. (Stab me.) Things I just don't like. (Bite me.) I fantasize about having all of these things done to me. In some cases there's a part of me that really wants it to happen because I think I'd enjoy it. I've had too many fond experiences with pain to feel bad about liking that so much.

And then there are the things I'm not really eager to have happen, but I'm so nervous or frightened about them happening that a part of me wants them to happen just to get them over with. And hell, being nervous and frightened is kind of fun too. And there are the things I just don't get off to, but I know my top likes so what the hell. I like getting my top off—doesn't quite matter how they like as much as I like doing it.

But then there are the things that, no, I really don't want them to happen and if you do them to me I'll fight and scream and cry and beg you to stop. And those are the things I want to have happen because I love the fighting, the screaming, the crying, the begging, but most of all the very fact that I'm not enjoying myself. I won't like it when you do it, but I'll love that you did it. It probably won't turn me on while it's happening (though it might), but I'll masturbate to the memories of it later. And oh, it'll be good.

I do want to be tortured. I don't want to be tortured, but I want it. I have no idea how to explain that in simpler terms because everything else about this fact in my head is just circular logic. But y'know, a lot of things about submissiveness and masochism is pretty paradoxical.

Take orgasm denial, for instance. A classic example to be sure, but an appropriate example nonetheless. The wanting to orgasm is what gets me all hot and bothered. Once I've come, well sure I'm enjoying it, but all the goodness of wanting that orgasm is sated and the replacement satisfaction just isn't the same. It's the same with the death fantasy. Dying is pretty awful but, for me, it's only awful because once I'm dead I can't be bothered to care about the dying anymore. It's like, "Oh look. Here's death. Well, the dying was fun while it lasted. So…what's the weather like in hell these days?" See? Not hot.

I want what I don't want because I don't want it, but I also want my top to want it. It's similarly not hot if I'm being pierced by someone who doesn't enjoy piercing me. The reason I do it with Eileen, despite my preference not to actually be poked with sharp things more than necessary, is because she has a great time with it. Back to the getting my top off bit again. Yes, I know I'm a total whore.

Is this service? If so, then could I conceptually extend the service theory to the point of torture, or death? And now that I'm thinking about it, doesn't that sound a lot like some very well-known cultural and religious imagery? How many times have I been reffered to as Jesus on the cross when I've been whipped in a public setting? (I bet my hair doesn't help avoid the analogy, but still.) Martyrdom is hot for tops, I guess. It's not the martyrdom that turns me on though, it's the suffering. Martyrs who don't want to be martyrs.

Make me suffer. Please.

Playing with other people in a sexual way has been a new experience. I'm a gigantic slut in my fantasies, but in reality I've only ever been with about as many people as I can count on one hand. For some reason, while I feel perfectly okay doing "crazy kinky shit" with people I've just met, like letting them beat me with whips, letting them tie me up in very strenuos positions with rope, shackles, handcuffs, and whatever else is lieing about, and more things, I feel far more self-conscious and uncomfortable with the thought of kissing, groping, or fucking people that I don't know very well.

When Eileen and I were talking about our positive weekend experiences with others, one thing that has stuck in my head that she's mentioned is that she said she felt good about the experiences in part because she, "felt like [she] was giving [our friends] a new toy -- you." This struck a chord because that was so much the feeling I got that I was glad she felt it too. In fact, our friends felt similarly!

To make the feeling even more blunt, a week before we had purchased a little gold dog tag at Petco (ahh, one of the many pervertible stores in the city) and placed it on my collar. The collar reads, appropriately enough, "Property of Eileen" and makes a lovely little jingling noise when I shake my head. This thing feeds directly into my human pet fantasies and I've been crushing hard on it ever since we got it. (Note to kinksters on a budget: for God's sake, go visit Petco! Not to mention the fact that this tag really enhances puppy play scenarios!)

I liked feeling as though I were being given to our friends for the night. Eileen went so far as to give them the option of letting me orgasm (or not) once and once only that night. The combination of these things had put me deep into a headspace of feeling owned. The funny thing about it all was that this feeling was around even while spending the night and, wonderfully, it didn't impede or hamper the activities at all. I was still EIleen's, but I was there with our friends. I think this worked so well, at least in part, because they not only understood, but enjoyed the dynamic as well.

This experience makes me want to dig deeper into exploring feelings of ownership and, beyond that, of being shared.

A lot of people think BDSM is an all-or-nothing sort of arrangement. Either you are my slave and do everything I ask of you, or you are not and shouldn't be wasting my time. Either I am always, absolutely forever and constantly at your feet and abiding by protocols or whatever, or I am not, and I never play that way. Either you are a pain slut and there's nothing you can't take, or pain's just not your thing and don't ever want to be really hurt.

All of these things are pointedly untrue, though this misconception is popular not only with the mainstream vanilla folks, but with many BDSM players and kinky people as well (which is endlessly frustrating). It certainly offers some explanation of why kink can be so scary for people who don't understand it and who are not at least intrigued by the acitivities. The fact that extended play time such as the extremes described above is actually a common, lustful fantasy offers, I think, a very plausible explanation to why so many people even of the kinky inclination think such a thing is true. And perhaps, though I have reason to doubt some of the claims I have heard, there really are people for whom "24/7" literally means every second of every day.

In the realities of day-to-day life, play time that lasts more than a couple of hours is very, very hard to come by. Beside from the fact that we all have "Real Jobs" and a life to lead outside of the bedroom, it's hard to stay in, for instance, slave headspace when you are constantly surrounded by your personal belongings at home or even at a friend's house. This was not something I ever anticipated being problematic for certain scenes such as longer-term ones, though it is. It's also particularly problematic for other certain kinds of scenes, namely singletail whipping. Again, not something I'd have guessed.

Another point of note regarding the length of a scene is the definition of what precisely a scene is. Two weekends ago, when Eileen and I were at a friend's house for a party (a vanilla party--not all the parties I go to are beat me, whip me affairs) we do as we always do, and I was ordered rather plainly to fetch her drinks from time to time. This was not a dramatic event, but it was not subtle either. It was only after our friend pointed out how strange it must seem for those in attendance who did not already understand our dynamic that we even noticed that it seemed like anything remotely like play at all. Was that a scene? Not for us. It might have been for some of our friends, though.

It's the fact that our dynamic is that way at all that makes it appear as though we do the kind of 24/7 play that you hear people talking about with awed tones, but I think this is actually kind of silly. I don't really consider myself a 24/7 slave with any of the weight people seem to place upon that phrase, I just find the juxtaposition of day-to-day life and servitude enjoyable, both erotically and otherwise. That makes the line between scene spaces and vanilla spaces very, very blurry sometimes, though that is a side effect rather than a direct effect of how Eileen and I interact.

There are, however, certain things we have done expressly for creating play headspaces for longer periods of time. Some of these things are play-specific, and others are again blurry, as above. For instance, a little over a year ago, Eileen bought me a rather heavy locking leather and metal collar. When it goes on me, I know she wants to play. The collar usually stays on a lot longer than the scenes last, and this helps keep some of those slavish emotions around after the beating is through. When we play at night, sometimes she uses the collar and some of our lengths of chain to secure me to the bed for the night to the same effect.

Being leashed or hitched is also a way to actively induce a desired headspace, and is also something that often can last quite a while.

Aside from that collar, I also wear 5 lengths of small jewelry chain all the time. They are placed around my neck, each wrist, and each ankle, and they are have no clasp with which I can remove them (so I don't). They're my "everyday collars". Recently, Eileen's been very turned on by the "harem slave" idea, and so she's added a sixth length of chain around my waist that she calls "utterly decadent."

All this decoration does not leave me unaffected. It's very much like wearing the heavier, locking leather collar, only with a different twist. Rather than being her pain toy, the whipping boy, I'm her cherished posession, and quite often her sex toy. There's something intensely erotically humbling about being equated in some way to a favored vibrator.

If you're tired of this topic, too bad. In fact, blame Calico this time, since she rekindled it. :P

She's been musing over pro-domming again and, as usual, generously shares a lot of her thoughts.

I happen to think my style of sex work is a fantastic deal for all involved, the best bargain (marked down from Invaluable! and Priceless!) there is, but I am biased.

I have to admit that, on a visceral level, the idea of sex being a "fantastic deal" is instantly unappealing to me. If I feel as though I am offering something invaluable, I would feel badly about providing it for a marked-down price at an hourly rate. This has nothing to do with pro-dommes specifically and everything to do with the nature of my interaction with the world, itself something different than what other people experience. I can't fault anyone for their choice of interactions.

Perhaps this is why I am so heartened by Calico's reinforcement of professional domination as sex work. It provides a much simpler to understand reason why I might dislike it so and I am eager to invite a simple explanation to anything this complicated and that causes so much internal conflict.

Lots of things Calico says in this post show me, again, that she really, truly isn't like what I've experienced to be the typical cross-section of Pro Dommes.

I can tell you what it is that I do, as best I know. It might not be dominant, and it might not be smart or correct, but it is certainly sincere.

...

I’ll freely admit that when it comes to power exchange, I play. Submission, domination: I make no pretentions.

...

D/s is not what I do as a “prodomme”. I wouldn’t consider taking on a pay-for-play relationship, period. As a whore of any sort I’m hourly. Sorry, a girl’s gotta have boundaries! The only homework I want is the stuff, like this, that I inflict on myself.
As such I doubt I’m a “proper” prodomme, and I have said as much. Not all my sessions are BDSM — they’re fetish, they’re fantasy facilitation, they’re sex work for crying out loud. I don’t make my foot fetish clients call me Mistress, and I don’t kick anyone in the balls without permission. If they want BDSM they will ask, and I’m happy that plenty do.

I imagine that this is not what you'd expect to hear coming from a proffesional dominatrix. It's certainly not what I heard from dozens of them back when they were a central part of my social circle. It is what they said but it's not what I heard. And isn't that a turn off for anything, feeling in your bones that the situation you find yourself just isn't as authentic, as sincere as you hoped an emotional experience would be? The magnetic repellant of inauthentic interation was so strong I never even got around to paying anyone, though I did have a thought or two about it a long time ago.

Perhaps the expectation of authenticity is too much to ask for a business transaction. One must remember that professional domination is actually a profession, after all.

(As a side note, I know it must be hard being different in a community of those who are different, though I think it's also cause for great celebration, and I hope Calico realizes that, too.)

I won’t stand up and tell you I’m a dominant woman. I haven’t got a line of proof to show you.

...

I like to say that when you see me, as Mistress Alena, you are paying for the time and not the inclination.

This is fair enough, and is the most oft-cited reason why professional domination may not be a disagreeable profession. It's what all my friends (and partners) have said to me when they mentioned the idea (all of them). However, I have to say in response that the fact of the matter is that any job I would have that I would be paid for my time rather than my inclination is not a job I want. In fact, I've quit 2 such jobs in the last year alone. Maybe others feel differently, and I can't begrudge them that if they do nor would I ever impose my world view as theirs, yet I feel this argument strengthened by the ex-pro dommes who concur with just this feeling and who offer just this reasoning as the reason they are no longer doing professional domination.

What does that tell me? That every pro-domme is just on a path towards burnout? No. Many are, and that's unfortunate. Perhaps the nature of the business can change to become more fulfilling. Perhaps it just wasn't for them.

But I know that when I grab a man by the handcuffs and slam him up against the wall, the startled grunt of air he gives is like the sweetest of moans.

A pro domme who enjoys her work? Why not? Good for her! Good for her clients! In fact, if a friend were to come to me tomorrow to ask for advice on seeing a pro domme, the first thing I would tell him or her would be see someone who will enjoy your session just as much as you, and I might very well point them Calico's way. But at that point, they've already made up their mind.

So maybe we're focusing on the wrong topic. What is it about my hypotehtical friend which has brought him or her to the decision to see a dominatrix? What is it about me that has brought me to the decision to not do so? Is it just those early negative (and perhaps formative) experiences? I think not, and I hope not, but maybe it is.

When you beat me, I want you to like doing it. When you hurt me, I want you to want me to hurt. When we play, I want to feel us both acting from instinct, not from expectation. I will simply make no room for spurious things in my sex.

Is a pro-domme session then necessarily mutually exclusive of these traits? I don't know. I guess neither does Calico.

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Oh my god, I could rant about this forever (via Femdom Blogs), but I won't because I'd quickly become incoherent considering the current time. That said, I will say that this is precisely the difference money makes, and it's one reason why I believe I've consistently found so many professional dominants to be longing for submissive interactions in their private lives.

When thinking about professional dominas, so many people often focus on the second word. The real heart of the title, however, is the first one, professsional. To be successful and worth half your salt, you need the same kind of dedication to the craft as a surgeon might have to his. Yes, it's fucking hard work, because professionals are hired to perform a very specific task, and the harder that task is to perform the more valuable their talents are.

When a client pays you to do something, you're expected to do it. That, right there, changes the equation. When Eileen and I play, there is no expectation from me but rather acceptance. Yes, there is some give and take, and the truth of the matter is that there is far more one-sidedness in the prodomme's circumstance than in mine. All I can see the prodomme getting, besides an experience (which you can argue the real value of 'til the cows come home), is a paycheck.

And damnit, your job should never just be a paycheck, 'lest you be miserable for your entire career. It's the overestimating of the value of the "prodomme experience" that is the single most common reason I've seen prodommes quit that line of work, and I can think of at least four I know (or have known) personally right off the top of my head. 'Nuff said tonight.

Update: Just wanted to make a few ammendments to this post now that I'm more rested. These were actually comments on Bitchy Jones's take on the Pandora's Box article that I left on her blog, but I like how I said it and wanted to add them here.

This is one of those things that I have too many thoughts about and as a result can't write anything coherent because every time I look at the situation my mind kind of explodes inside my skull and I feel like it's oozing out of my ears. So, so frustrating.

However, let me try to get a few points across:

1. Prodommes, for the most part, are about looks and not about skill. I am always utterly depressed when I see how awful their form and aim is, how ignorant they are of safety techniques, and how generally uneducated they are about BDSM 101-type things. So it makes sense that it's their looks, not their skills, that are economically viable and that they are the ones supplying the demand. And who demands it? Why, lonely, usually socially awkward or emotionally unintelligent submissive men who can't or don't know how to get what they want except with the one currency they can actually bargain with: currency.


2. Prodommes are supposed to be first and foremost professionals. There's not a single prodomme I've spoken with (and I've spoken with quite a few, mind you) that doesn't try to draw a very distinct separation between their work and personal lives. That right there makes their professional interests a lot less interesting to me as a submissive male, because why would I want to be with someone who is proactively separating me out of their personal lives? Again, it comes down to the fact that there are just too many pathetic men out there. Makes me ashamed to call myself male sometimes, really.


3. Ultimately, the situation is the way it is because it's "correct enough" in that it works. The only way to change the system is to beat it economically. And believe you me, this is something I've been trying to come up with a way to do for a long time. Create something truly better that proves itself as such by completely destroying profit expectations of these abysmal esetablishments, and you'll change the system and remake it in your own image.

End mini-rant. I guess I'm tougher on the customers than the suppliers because I'm a sub male and I get a lot more upset about seeing the worst of my breed displayed than I do about seeing the worst of someone else's breed. I've gone to dozens upon dozens of fetish parties and whatnot, and at each one, the prodommes there didn't know what to make of me or how to react to me or even what the hell I was about because the first thing out of my mouth was never "may I rub your feet?" Blech! I'm pissed off that most dominant women expect that to be the first thing out of my mouth.

Surfing around again tonight, I found a very interesting post by Saratoga discussing chastity versus draining ("milking") a male submissive before play time. He describes the basic thrust of the concept like this:

The point is to make his ejaculatory moment as meaningless, humbling and unremarkable as possible. Pointedly waste his seed in an unceremonious manner. Then follow it up with brisk, focused activities which sweep his consciousness away from the release of his precious male sexual fluid to the infinitely more important tasks selected by his Mistress.

An interesting thought indeed. Why would one be interested in doing this? Saratoga writes:

This assures, as the Australian Domme stated, that the male is "serving (her) from submission, not from lust." Actually, I'd suggest, from my personal experience, that the boy may still serve his Mistress "from lust," but it would be from lust for Her, not lust for his own sexual release. So, male pre-play release would assure both a more purely submissive motivation for serving his Mistress, as well as a basis for his more purely lusting for Her, not his own sexual satisfaction.

Oh, okay, I get it. Try to ensure that the actions I am taking are in fact performed out of devotion, not a desire for self-gratification. Such a thing can be debated endlessly if taken to philosophical extremes, but let's assume for the sake of self-exploration that not all actions are ultimately selfish.

I can certainly relate to this idea at times. Surely, if I am denied sexual release, won't my compliance simply be a measure of how much I want an orgasm? Sometimes, yes. Is that the point? Sometimes, yes. It's an unmeasurable thing, really, to try and determine what intentions have provided the motivation for an action of someone else's. The dominant can't ever truly know, despite how much they may suspect one thing to be the reality over another possibility. If I am really horny, I might be performing some action out of a desire to please my dominant so that she or he might grant me an orgasmic climax, but I may not. Sometimes, it's hard for me to tell the difference--and that's the real reason I see some value in this approach to starting a scene.

I think this can be an interesting tool. For example, there are certainly physiological changes that happen in one's body that are dependent on where you are in the sexual response cycle. The release of endorphins is the common example and explains why so many of us feel as though we can take more pain when we are highly aroused. Now think about what it might do to you if you were forced to take a harsh paddling or a whipping after you have had an orgasm and not allowed to enjoy an afterglow. I think it would be pretty mentally distressing...and as such could prove to be a very, very powerful tool for a dominant to be aware of.

That is to say, draining a man prior to a scene isn't necessarily a means to ensure his devotion or intention for service, but it certainly will change the way his body and mind responds to certain things. Dominance is not about devotion, it's about using the tools you have at hand to control somebody else, devotion be damned. The awareness of how a submissive reacts differently to things before or after an orgasm was granted is one of these tools. The only way to get really good at using it is to practice, practice, practice.

Just my two cents….

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Over a very, very late lunch (or early supper), Eileen made the rather endearing comment that she was somewhat intimidated by the profuse amounts of blogging and writing that I do. My response surprised me. I told her, "Well, all subs write more than doms," and just as I said that I asked myself if it were really true.

Now, I certainly can't speak for everyone and I typically dislike over-arching generalizations except when they are understood to be such a thing, but I really do think that submissives typically write more than dominants. In fact, to be even more specific of my own observations, most experiencial writings are publisehd by female submissives, most fantasy was published by male submissives, and most "how to" articles and technically-minded material was published by male dominants. This is an interesting observation in itself, but on the whole my observation is that subs write more stuff.

My theory on this is very straightforward (by which I mean completely unfounded, untested, and underdeveloped): submission is ultimately a very internal process, whereas domination is far more externalized. In other words, submission is largely passive and receptive and domination is active. (This sounds a lot like sex psychology 101, right?)

My hypothesis is thus, perhaps as a result of these properties, submissives (by which I mean myself) tend to take the opportunity to write--and especially blog, due to it's easy push-button publishing nature--to externalize their own submission. Certainly domination also requires high degree of self-analysis, but dommes who play with their subs regularly are already externalizing a lot of things, and perhaps don't have the desire to do so as much as subs seem to.

So there's my completely underdeveloped theory as to why subs write more than dommes do.

On an off-topic but tangentially related topic, finding the wealth of femdom material online that I have is rather new for me. I've never been that interested in it because the last time I really looked for this sort of material was ages ago, and it was really hard to find anything at all, much less anything good. Furthermore, all the femdom stuff I found was so focused on D/s and light play such as light spankings, sissyfication, verbal humiliation, and orgasm control (not that there's anything wrong with any of these; please, bring them on!) that there was very little material about the really fun stuff like hour-long singletail whippings that left men's backs bloodied, threaded piercings used for bondage, torture and interrogation scenes, and brutal cuttings and intense knifeplay. It's just not that easy to find female dominants talking about playing much physically at all. (Of course, I'm really thrilled to have begun finding exceptions to that remark!)

These intense things are, of course, not everyone's cup of tea and that's okay, but they are at the heart of most of my deeper fantasies and so I sought them out where they were available: fictional erotic literature. Granted, these things may not be written about nearly as often because they are really hard to do well, or even at all. Do you have any idea how much preparation an interrogation scene takes? A really involved one that lasts more than a night? A lot!

Ironically, this is the second time I'm writing this entry because my Web browser ate it the first time. How utterly frustrating! Grr on it! Of course, I think the first entry was far more interesting and insightful. Oh, and it was longer too.

The wonderfully expressive Bitchy Jones has a fantastic post about professional female dominants (i.e., a pro-domme, a dominatrix, etc.), in which she says:

It makes me sad that the only dom women you ever see in the media are professional doms. The shelves in the erotica section of my local Borders are thick with the memoirs of prodom women, but no memoirs of anyone like me. And no matter how much these women with the memoirs out love it they *are* getting paid. And that’s just different to doing something for love. It just is.

Frankly, I agree completely. As a male submissive who has been fortunate enough to get the chance to enjoy scenes with pro-dommes, I viscerally dislike the whole industry built around this aspect of BDSM. It's just not real, and that tarnishes everything about the experience for me. Most of the times I've interacted with pro-dommes they didn't know the first thing about how to react to me. She (as a general plural "they") would go into her whole "I'm a beautiful domme and you want to give me things" routine andd I just shake my head at her. It's annoying and it's not sexy. Oh, and it's pretentious, too.

Furthermore, I can't feel submissive to someone like that because I feel embarassed for them. Eileen made the good point during a recent conversation about being a professional dominatrix that she would probably find the experience humiliating. Doingg anything just because you need the money, even if you don't really mind "that much" that you're doing it and even if you can genuinely have a good time, is still humiliating.

And it's submissive, at least to the situation if not directly to the client. But then again it is, because most Pro-Dommes work hard for really great tips and there's no way in my mind that that instinct is not utterly submissive. As a male client, I know that I have at least some level of control over the so-called female dominant's motivation in a way that I just don't have when money's not involved. On the flip side, however, it is (or at least it certainly should be) within the pro-domme's power and right to say that she will never want to scene with me again, and it's not as if there isn't an ocean full of other fish she can fry.

The other interesting thing I have noticed from my (admittedly one-sided but still rather vast) experience in the Pro-Domme scene is that an overwhelming majority of professional domintracies (dominatrixes?) are actually submissive (or at least switches) in their personal lives if they're even "into this stuff" in their personal lives at all. There's nothing wrong with being a submissive or with being a switch, but the very fact that this is such a hidden thing makes those who hide it completely unattractive to me as tops. It comes back to the fact that they are doing this not for me or with me, but for my money, alone.

Sure, there are exceptions (see previous link to enjoyable scenes with pro-dommes), but these are certainly not the typical experience. One would think, then, that there is a huge business opportunity for a "real" pro-domme, one who "gets it" and for whom BDSM truly is a "natural" thing and not just a "job." The money is a lure that is hard to resist. But wouldn't that change things? And of course, how can I reallly judge so harshly without having walked a mile in those high-heeled shoes, so to speak?