REDIRECTED TO MAYBEMAIMED.COM: Maybe Maimed but Never Harmed

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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Just earlier today a friend sent me to this Savage Love article in the Village Voice. It's about pegging, aka strap-on sex. We've all talked about this before, remember. The reason this article stuck out like a bright and red sore thumb in all the otherwise mundane vanilla-oriented sex advice columns was the nugget of wisdom by the ever-wonderful Violet Blue shared in response to this woman's concerns:

Everything I've come across so far seems to be playing into the stereotypes that plague male- on-female anal sex. ("You're going to take my cock up that little ass," etc.) I don't peg my man to work out my aggression, I peg him because the prostate is a wondrous thing.

When I point at other submissive men who are blinded by their own irresistible cravings to think before they act and tell you that they have hurt me in my sex life, this is (an example of) exactly what I mean. When I point at pro-dommes and tell you that they are cheapening me to other dominant women, this is exactly what I mean. When I point at the media and say that this is why I feel like it is invading my bedroom, this is exactly what I mean.

Violet Blue responds with some much-needed reason to all the craziness:

Pegging in most porn is festooned with stereotypes of shame and pain, like most sex in mainstream porn," says Violet. "And, unfortunately, these stereotypes have seeped into online sex culture. But you don't have to be Mistress Asscrusher, and he doesn't have to answer to Worthless Buttslut, in order to enjoy strap-on sex. Like I explain in my book, most couples who peg do it because it's fun, intimate, new, exciting, and quite loving.

I've said it before, but I guess it behooves me to say it again: I don't see anything wrong with Mistres Asscrusher or Worthless Buttslut, but if you start to expect that of me (by behaving in ways that show it—I couldn't care less what positions you fantasize about me in as long as they remain fantasy) then you are actually hurting me and it doesn't matter who you are or what your orientation, submissive man or dominant woman or albino monkey or whatever, you're not going to see much respect beyond that I accord fellow humans coming from me. Respect like that is and always should be earned—you don't get it just because you're of an "alternative" sexuality.

Addendum: I was just talking to that brilliant friend of mine who asked me what the hell my beef with pro-dommes is. It's a fair question. She asked me to describe it in twenty words or less, because she was tired. So I did:

Pro-dommes have a monopoly on the expression of female domination in the majority of online and real-world kinky contexts.

One thing led to another in this conversation, when she finally remarked that she never thought she'd see "the personal is political" from this side of the sex wars, but yeah, ok, I can see it. Being completely untrained in feminist theory I'd never heard that word before, so I did a little bit of searching to find out what she's talking about. I have no conclusions, but I wanted to share what I found because I feel it is inherently relevant to the above post.

• A Z-Magazine editorial on the various meanings of the phrase "The Personal Is Political" through time since the late 1960's. (I highly recommend reading this first.)


• Wikipedia's article on identity politics.


• Newsgroup archives discussing the origins of the phrase "The Personal is Political".


• and more….

In brief, I am beginning to wonder if this phrase and its related political associations are an accurate description of the feelings of systematic marginalization in the post above. I'll leave further speculation, however, for a time after more significant rumination.

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 really, really pissed off the last couple of days weeks months years. I thought it was getting better and I was beginning to get out of my bitter and jealous funk, but it's just not happening. Might even be getting worse; instead of ranting on my own blog, now I'm ranting in the comments on Elizabeth's blog (sorry about that, by the way). Pretty sad, really.

I had a long converastion with Lady Lubyanka today, whom I am almost certain thinks I am a very angry and very smart troubled young boy. (She would not be entirely incorrect either; but I did have to look up the word erudite when she called me that today. She's such a sweet charmer.) Then, later, instead of spending dinner with friends I became too upset to be social and wanted to leave early, and this ended up as a very long conversation with Eileen about what was wrong.

So what is wrong? A lot of things are wrong and were never right; these things have hurt me from the first moment I interacted even remotely sexually with another person, but they are especially painful right now because of a few personal experiences that I'd much rather not go into on such a public forum. I mention that now to tell you, dearest reader, that these things are not solely the belidgerant words of an angsty youth. These things do happen. They happen all the time.

Even though there's no help in this post, I ultimately thought that writing about how to make things better without also showing the hurt may not actually be that effective. So here is the bitter taste of reality submissive men drink day in and day out:

I wanted to write about the incredibly aggravating notion that regardless of orientation, dominant or submisive, men are expected to be the pursuers while women, dominant or submissive, are expected to be the pursued.

I wanted to write about why many submissive men are just as responsible for debasing their own sexuality as the many pro- (and so obviously not-so-pro-)dommes who take delight in squashing them down while lifting them of that burdensome weight in their wallets. ("Thank you for stealing my money, Mistress, would you like another dollar?")

I wanted to write about the lack of empathy so prevalent in the public BDSM scenes where more often than you'd probably think (more times than I can count and over the course of two relationships) people of all sexes befriend you if you're a guy for the purposes of getting closer to your girlfriends, both significant other(s) and otherwise. After all, you're a guy: you're just a dime a dozen anyway and another twenty like you will walk through the door in the next two minutes. But oh my god, is that a breast standing next to you? Is there a photographer in the house? Someone must capture this moment and make it last a lifetime! (I still remember the near stampede bee line that was made towards my then-girlfriend when we came out to our first public BDSM meeting. It's happened lots of times since then, too; mostly I'm just used to it now.)

I wanted to write about how most people assume that if you're a guy you're probably controlled by nothing more than that little blood-shot rod of tissue called a penis, and how incredibly shameful I feel to be male because so many times these people are actually correct in their accusations of men. (See above. 'Nuff said.)

I wanted to write about how submissive men will pretty much always, without fail, lose a race for sexual satisfaction out of any gender/sex/orientation combination you can come up with. Always. I've had a sex life that any submissive man you point at would kill to have, yet stick me in a room with other orientations and I'm still the first one sidelined, the last one standing by the fruit punch and chips, so to speak. It's not like it hasn't happened before, and it's certainly going to happen again.

I wanted to write about how if you're a submissive guy you're treated with near-fear if not written off if you don't call youself worthless or think you're only value comes from how much money you make. My god, he's submissive but he likes himself. He's gotta be like the unabomber or one of those kids from Columbine—he's clearly fucked up in the head. No self-respecting male would actually be submissive. I mean, he's submissive? Doesn't he not want to be respected? (Yeah, keep talking Einstein.)

If you are a man and you have had any experience at all interacting with almost any sexually oriented community (including non-kinky contexts), maybe you're pretty pissed off, too. Worst of all, maybe a lot of people are telling you that you don't have a lot of reason to be upset. After all, you're a man, and the world handed you an easier time of things than, say, if you were a woman or if you were living in a third-world country. Shut up and be grateful, you selfish little prick.

I'm not ungrateful, you should tell them, I'm very grateful for the things I have. But that does not negate the unjust, oppressive, systematic starvation of my sexual identity, the hurt caused by the intentional and the unintential assumptions made about who I am and what I should enjoy based on it, or the pain from seeing how excruciatingly invasive all of this has become in my bedroom.

That's what I wanted to write about, but I'm clearly in no state to be writing such things. I'm way too angry about it to make any kind of coherent sense. So like I said, move along, keep channel surfing. There's nothing to see here that you haven't seen a million times before.

I'm finally starting to feel a little bit better today. In celebration, I thought I'd share with you all one of my older web pages, created back in February of this year with the help of two good friends. This one is about Real Ultimate Male Chastity. I hope you enjoy it.

Also, if you're not already familiar with the Internet phenomenon of Real Ultimate Power, you may enjoy checking out the original web site and its parody directory.

A major problem many people have is the inability to draw distinctions between one thing and another. This is especially true when the separation between two things are gradated. To simplify the problem, most people resign to black and white distinctions, this or that, tearing things apart that are inherently interwoven together into what they perceive as separate strands. It's as if they believe doing so will magically reveal all that which created the thing in the first place. But they are misguided, at best, and purposefully destructive at worst.

Many things about me are more than the sum of my parts. While it is certainly possible to break these parts away from one another, doing so reveals information only about my constituent parts in their new, isolated context. I should know; I continually undergo this exercise as part of watching myself growing older.

Possibly the saddest of things to fail to distinguish in my opinion are the emotional paradoxes brought on by sexual fantasy. It creates a situation where most people structure their relationships around their fantasies, when they should be structuring their fantasies around their relationships.

Trinity said it another way:

I was honestly flummoxed (though not surprised) when he didn't understand. Wouldn't it be better for someone to accept your service because you're you than because you're a boy?

I mean, I get the whole "I'm just one of many, depersonalized, a number in a harem" as sexual fantasy. But the guy in question is so obsessed with asserting he's not talking about fantasy when he is... that befuddles me.

Fantasy is fine and great, when clearly marked.

As did Richard:

For other men it is just another sort of hot sex fantasy. But they don't know how to distinguish the source of the thrill from actuality.

A couple of women have based lucrative careers on promoting this: Sutton, Abernathy.

And there is a legion of telephone prodommes who invoke the rhetoric as a means of attracting clients.

Unfortunately, the rhetoric is sexually exciting at first glance and too few people are trained in the skills required to control their own immediate gratification to put thought into their emotions and see the rhetoric's flaws.

Inequality turns me on. As a result of that, I enjoy fantasies of female superiority over males when I'm feeling like submitting to feminine authorities. Long have I had dreams, like most submissive men, of being objectified and degraded because of pieces of my identity: my gender, my physical attributes.

Some fantasies are quite vivid. I remember one from when I was barely a teenage boy (maybe 13 or so) of being captured by a race of women who kept me bound in a dark cave (where there were other such helpless male victims in abundance) with a substance similar to super powerful spider's webbing and whose only contact with me would be to feed me food and drink and occasionally come to "collect" my ejaculate. A classic fantasy, really, undoubtedly from the mind of a youth twisting science fiction imagery to suit his preferred sexual expression.


As I grew older, I maintained the same fantasies, but the imagery changed somewhat. Instead of science fiction, I more often used personal experiences as fuel. As I was more-or-less in school at the time, school-grounds were a favorite locale where the girls (and sometimes certain boys) could take sexual advantage of me in all manner of creative ways. The image above has been a favorite source of this kind of fantasy for many years now.

In that way, I enjoyed the fact that I was as skinny as a twig and frightfully anemic. My sexual fantasies of being overpowered actually dissuaded me from taking care of my body and ensuring my own health back then.

That's the kind of inability to distinguish fantasy from reality that I'm talking about. When it's so personal, as that is, and when you crave something so much, as I did, you don't want to let reality get in the way of your fantasies. There's not anything wrong with trying to live in reality more elements of your fantasies. I do that all the time. But I'm only successful when I take reality into account.

Doing anything else is foolhardy.

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.

In reply to my previous post, Eileen left some prodding comments. (I love it when she prods me.)

How can we make the spaces for everyone wider? CV is doing a fantastic job of it; what else can be done?

CV succeeded in creating a space that does not feel fragmented because there was more than just tolerance and acceptance, there was invitation and inclusion. At the same time as we celebrate diversity and showcase our differences, we are also welcoming.

It's not what you do, it's how you do it. Communities can learn a lot from that mantra. Everywhere else I look I see groups built upon expectations instead of invitations. Their party line is, "Come here if you are interested in BDSM and you are gay." The "Join us if" mentality is exclusionary, an odd thing for a marginalized community to be based on, I think. The end result of such things is the current state of the sexuality communities: fractured and divided and so utterly, utterly siloed.

Instead, why not just say, "Join us." No qualifiers, there's no need. Rules of civility and organization operations are no hindrances to this sort of thing. And of course, don't just say it. Do it!

Dom Sub Friends (aka DSF) has what is probably their view of a very inviting tagline: The Friendly BDSM Society. But go to a meeting and you'll be greeted by the most adamantly heterosexual, maledom/femsub group you're likely to meet in New York City. They may be friendly, but they are anything but inviting if who you are is someone like me. On the other hand, they are probably a great find for people who are looking for that sort of thing. (In which case I recommend them—they've never been anything but friendly to me.)

Naturally, communities will organize around their own cultures, and what they determine as criteria for valuing BDSM activity is not mine. It makes sense, then, that I would not find this group inviting. It also begs the question: would they find my culture inviting? Maybe not. (As a side-note, this is why I am very much not worried about people who may pose a threat to CV taking over the population of the group. They simply have better places to go than our little oasis. To quote our current president of vice, we're really pretty boring if you're not actually interested in learning about BDSM with an open mind.)

Therein lies my point, however. They don't need to find my culture inviting, they already have one. I, on the other hand, don't. There are no erotic art shows I know of that display imagery such as that in Van Darkholme's Male Bondage photography book. As a matter of fact, I don't even know of any other books that do such a thing.

Should we start making our own porn? Should I take photos of you? Should we pitch a fit over spaces, or work to make the spaces different, or leave the spaces altogether? And then, will what you're working to make and what already exists ever have significant cross over?

I don't know. I hope there will be crossover, because even though I don't feel welcome in their community I certainly appreciate their presence as a community. Sexual rights are important for everyone. Their presence strengthens my own stance, as mine strengthens theirs. It is not impossible to stand together and still be different, but it is impossible for me to stand with them when I can not call anything of theirs my own and when there is nothing else for me to claim for myself.

Maybe they don't even want anything to do with me, but I guarantee that I'm a voice they'd be better off having on their side, especially with the recent climate of sexual oppression and misunderstanding growing stronger every day. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: for some reason, sex and education seem to be the two topics that otherwise smart people consistently behave very stupidly about.

I don't want to go to the same parties as these other people do. Neither of us would have a good time. My griping isn't because they have a community, it's because mine is practically non-existant. What's sprung up in the past couple of years is truly extraordinary, and I am in the unique position among my tiny social circle of being able to remember what it was like before. I want to cultivate it, and make it grow.

Does that mean making my own porn? I don't know. I'd be willing to try it. There is no greater equalizer than currency. If selling my brand of sexuality earns it a top spot on people's radars, why shouldn't I try for it? That's what I admire about Tristan Taormino. It's too bad she's not a submissive guy. But then if she were a submissive guy, like I am, would her brand of sex sell at all? Would mine?

There is no doubt in my mind that there are other people who have not been lucky enough to find a place where such acceptance and intelligence has coalesced and these people are still looking for it. I hope they keep looking, because I am, and one day we might find each other.

Being loud helps you get noticed. Maybe I am just trying to rouse my little corner into making a little more noise. I feel I have been deafened by the never-ending rhetoric of others that so many people have written about lately.

I think a lot of people enjoy the notions of a BDSM community because it feels good to belong and to know that there are other people who share your feelings. That's certainly true for me, but lately I've been reminded rather harshly about just how much of my own community does not actually include me in any significant way. And it hurts. A lot.

At the risk of posting a rather dreary self-pitying entry (on a Monday, no less), I have to say that I often feel like there is no space here for me. While I know intellectually that I'm not alone, it sure feels like I am.

Because friends were involved and it was free and sounded the least bit interesting, I went to a low-key erotic art show that OneTaste NY was producing. The artwork wasn't bad; it was just so typical. I can't tell if it helped the show or made it worse that the theme wasn't specifically BDSM-oriented. Why is it that even in people's supposedly non-kinky erotic art ideas women are submissive?

The overwhelming feel of the event was decidedly…patriarchal. "This is a flirt-heavy zone," the greeter told us as we entered, and proceeded to inquire about Eileen's weekend. Maybe "flirt-heavy" is just the PC word for meat market now. Maybe that's too harsh, but there's no denying the implication that men would do the purusing and women would be the pursued. There's nothing wrong with that (putting my head in Eileen's lap at a party was how we got together—quite the forward thing for submissive male to do, many people would probably think), but the expectation is nauseating.

Even the men, the poor ignorant sods, are succumbing to the peer pressure. (Maybe that's because most of them are spineless bastards to begin with who are just aching to be told what to do. Oops, maybe that was too harsh again.) You see it in their ridiculous bait-and-switch routines where the submissive men pretend to be dominant only long enough to get the woman to bed with them. Then they turn around and get on their hands and knees and start talking about how pathetic they are. This is probably one of the very few times I'll actually agree with those men: they are pathetic, and I'm not only ashamed but enraged to be thought of as similar to them, not to mention just how many things are wrong with the very idea that this tactic might actually work out well for anyone.

I'm jealous of the submissive women for whom this kind of space must be an incredible cornucopia of sexual celebration. I bet they actually had a blast at the art show. At the same time, I'm sorry, for their sake, that this potentially wonderful environment is all but destroyed by utterly disrespectful men.

In the end, no one's really all that happy, are they? Is there anyone out there who actually thinks the scene as it is right now is just peachy keen? That it couldn't be better?

A really long time ago, friends of mine who were elected to the TES board of directors encouraged me to run alongside them. They told me that I could do so much good for that community. And that was why I chose not to run: it's not my community, really. It's the closest thing I have to a community, so I adore it, but it's not mine because so much of what they do does not welcome or include me in any significant way. Oh sure, they encourage male submissives sometimes but the way they do so is so amazingly repulsive in so many ways that I just can't see myself having much to do with it. I don't begrudge that community their right to exist. I just want one of my own.

So I'm working hard to build it.

Bitchy, bitchy Jones, who generously spent an hour talking with me for this episode, shared her insightful viewpoints on Femdommery™ and what makes it hot, or not. I'd like to send a very special thanks to Bitchy for speaking with me and for sharing her views.

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.

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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I gotta say, I'm glad the world has someone like Bitchy Jones, who in her famous irreverent ranting style has sunk her claws deep into the hypocrisy that is the common (mis)perception about cuckolding, but I really wish all this talk of those truly sad and pathetic conversion project guys (who should totally read Tom's comments) and the firestorm around this kink or that's validity would cease.

Frankly, I'm just not intereted in any of it because I am neither the target audience or feel as though there is (much) to learn from these discussions (though I can't say that there is no knowledge ripe for the picking from them). I don't care about what other people are doing wrong because I am far more interested in what I can do right.

And, frankly, I'm way too selfish a human being to fight this fight for the benefit of others. It is truly unfortuante that there are not others out there in greater numbers who are actually self-aware enough to discover the excitement of authentic connection and erotic power exchange, but that is mostly their loss, not mine. Besides, though I don't want to go into specifics, I have done a lot for my community on this front already, and I am still doing steadily more.

Really, though, I just miss the level of introspection I was finding on the blogosphere in much more abundance before this hailstorm of things-gone-wrong came about. And after all, not that it isn't sometimes necessary, but isn't focusing on the things gone wrong counterproductive anyway?

I think I figured something out just now, in the shower. I was thinking about the whole issue of professional BDSM and what the deal is with prodommes and what not, how money plays into the equation and the economics of the situation when it struck me: the men are the whores.

What I mean is, the reason I get so pissed off at the other submissive men out there who are willing to pay for domination is because in my view they are cheapening something that I find to be priceless, namely my own submission. How dare they willingly say, "Dominating me for an hour is worth two (or three, or four or whatever) hundred dollars to me." I could never say that and mean it the way they do, because frankly, my submission is earned. I don't just give it away to the prettiest girl or the strongest man or the cheapest dom I can find.

I can't understand why these men sell their submission the way they do. It's insulting to me, as a proud human, bottom, and submissive, that they even consider the thought. No wonder I have such a hard time respecting them. What's there to respect about someone who so willingly sells such a deeply important part of themselves, and furthermore, cheapens the entire idea by placing finite financial value on the thing?

These men are the most unethical of sluts I can imagine. They are more unethical than the prodommes because the prodommes (usually) know what they're doing emotionally and they make conscious choices to protect themselves. But these men…they know what they're doing and they're doing it on purpose anyway (and if they don't, they're just too dumb to be respected on any level other than the basic respect I'd accord a fellow human).

I'm not sure if that made any sense to anyone except for me. Whatever, it's just my two cents anyway.

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.