I Need a Beating

That's right. Simple truth. I need a beating. Not a spanking.



I need to be tightly restrained, gagged, and taken where I would not go voluntarily -- beyond my fear, beyond my panic, through the anger and rage and fury, into blood and welts and deep bruises, to the place where I can give up all of it and simply let go and rest.



We are a good, long, ways from the time when that can happen. He is still tired, worn out, very tentative feeling. There is a long way to go before He is completely recovered. Needing will wait for now. I only know that it is building in me, growing to haunt my dreaming, lingering in my awakening -- a hunger that will not be entirely ignored.



swan

Why Don't We Ask for What We Need?

I wasn't entirely sure where my thoughts were heading in my last post. Wandering some, I guess, trying to get words around some pretty nebulous thinking... So, kaya's question in this comment pushed me to try and clarify a little.

Really. Why is it that most of us are so reluctant to admit that we do have needs; that those needs are potentially "legitimate;" and that they ought to at least be able to be expressed even if they don't rise to the level of always needing to be fulfilled exactly as we voice them?


I believe that the biggest reason for the phenomenon is isolation. For the vast majority of us, the only contact that we have with others who are "like us" is here. On-line; via blogs and lists and e-mail and chat and the like. For a fortunate few, there are lively and robust local communities of like-minded kinksters that can be gathered around for real-time support and comeraderie and friendship and simple socializing. For most of us, though, there is simply no one around us to turn to for common, garden variety friendship and modeling and mentoring.



We live our lives in socially imposed secrecy and isolation to a greater or lesser degree depending on the level of risk that we perceive in exposure. And that has a cost -- a real, and often significant cost. Consider. For almost everything that we do as social creatures, we learn and model our behaviors and expectations and understandings on our observations of those around us. From our earliest childhoods, we watch and learn from those other people in our communities and families and neighborhoods. Whether it is in the workplace, or the school, or the worship community, or on the playground, or in the bridge club, we learn what are the norms and the values and the ins and outs of being whatever it is we are trying to be and become from the other people who ARE that very thing.



Except that WE most often cannot do that. Because it is nearly impossible for us to gather freely and easily and comfortably together as WHO and WHAT we are and socialize. It is not possible for submissives and slaves, Masters and Dominants, to simply spend time in the community as we are. If we are able to gather, it is within carefully guarded and contrived settings, out of the eye of the rest of the public, so as to not "offend" regular folks. There is no way for those who are new to this to observe those who have done it for a significant period of time. There's no opportunity to know who, in your neighborhood, is also living the life. There's no easy way to identify which middle-aged couple might serve as guides and mentors if you are new and just beginning this journey together. There is almost nobody that you can look to who can demonstrate that this is a healthy, joyful, positive way to live. Where does someone look if they are seeking affirmation that this is a sexual/erotic orientation that can be (and should be) embraced without a sense of shame?


So. We are limited to mostly on-line interactions, and thank goodness we have it! But, we (many of us) know the limits of the medium. It is tailor-made to push us all to competition if we don't keep our heads screwed on. Before you know it, if you aren't careful, you can convince yourself that there really is only one "right" way to do this, and that you aren't it. Before too long, if you read much, you can easily become convinced that you aren't good enough, brave enough, beautiful enough, strong enough, open enough, graceful enough... whatever enough. The truth is, that we are not robots, not fantasy characters, not idealized dreams. We are real humans with real lives. We don't live on-line (at least most of us don't).


Each and all of us, whether on the Top-side or bottom-side of the power dynamic, would benefit from more opportunity and freedom to do what we do out in the open with our community. We'd learn from each other and we'd ask our questions in a much healthier, less overheated, less breathless environment. There would be far fewer divas, gurus, rock stars, and the like. Probably fewer train wrecks, too.


swan

Bargains

There has been all sorts of talk around the circle, lately, about being "gracious" and "graceful" in the doing of this thing we are all trying to do -- this following of the path of submission and slavery. Most who read here, and most that I read are either engaged in, or at least interested in, the path of relational power exchange, and for most, there is at least some component of personal service to that dynamic. The proportional mix may vary from person to person, but read the "ingredient list," and you will find service in there somewhere.



For almost all of us though, that "service" component isn't the thing that really fires our rockets. We will mostly testify that it makes us happy if He is happy, contented, satisfied, comfortable, and all of that... and I don't doubt the veracity of that because I feel the same way. However, I know from personal experience that living on a steady diet of cooking, cleaning, ironing, shopping, filing, on and on and on -- leaves me feeling strung out and pallid after awhile. Unsatisfied. Starved. Stretched thin.



I understand that I serve just as well when I present a perfectly ironed shirt as I do when I bend over for a beating, but without some balance between the two, I'll begin to wither. And, frankly, no amount of self-talk about being "gracious" and "graceful" is going to change the fact. Because, while I claim the title of "slave," the truth is that, in coming to this relationship, I made a bargain (just as I did in my marriage -- just as everyone does entering into intimate relationship). Whether we know it or not, and whether we openly acknowledge it or not, the bargains we make about our relationships, are held intensely in our hearts and psyches. There is no need for detailed negotiation or ink to make that be the reality.



When I married, at the tender age of 19, I was negotiating for things like safety and security -- refuge from the alcoholic hell that was the home I grew up in. I didn't know who or what I was, and so I didn't have the information I needed to negotiate well for what I really needed. I really didn't know what I brought to the bargain, and I didn't make a good deal for myself. I didn't get what I thought I was getting, and I didn't get what I really needed either. It took me almost 28 years to understand that I needed to break the deal and start some new negotiations.

I subscribe to Jack Rinella's weekly column. It comes to my e-mail, and it always gives me something to think about. The last one was entitled, "Don't Let It Stop," and it dealt with the subject of ongoing negotiations between long-term partners. Rinella writes:

Sometimes, there is this myth that players who are experienced with each other don't need to negotiate ... Negotiation, no matter how thorough it is, is based on the here and now. In spite of how much we may resist the facts, it remains that the"there and later" will be different. Over time each and everyone of us will change, as will our partners and the myriad circumstances in which we will find ourselves. Inevitable as it is we can still be surprised by change. As resistant as we maybe to it, it never ceases. We will age by the very fact that time continues. Aging may bring wisdom or folly, expertise or failure. Over time our bodies, minds, and emotions will evolve. There is no stopping the graying of hair, the weakening of muscles, or the growing diminishment of our senses...

However we might fantasize all of this, or might have thought of it at some beginning point, that constant fact of change and evolution is the simple reality. None of us, Master or slave, is today, as we were a day or a month or a year ago. Physical, emotional, intellectual needs and abilities and potentials shift, and if we are wise, we must move with them. As partners, we need to renegotiate the bargains we make.

A very real and powerful part of walking this path is our ability and willingness to go, naked, into the depths of our own souls, to seek out the truth of who we are and offer it to one another. That is the best of our bargaining. We simply must be willing to know and understand what it is that we bring to the negotiations, and then make the very best bargain that we are able. There is nothing at all contrary in doing that. That is the epitome and essence of power exchange. That is the best of what we do with and for one anoher.

swan

Not Guilty

While He recovers -- Time for something a little bit substantial.

From some of my reading, I've been fussing about this for the last couple of weeks:

"Feeling guilty, then punished or disciplined, and then subsequently cleansed
and forgiven, is so much a part of the cathartic, transformative experience ...
This cycle of guilt/discipline/forgiveness...separate ... from more deliberately
erotic and sexual forms of pleasure/pain play, and ... closer to the cathartic
ritual pain practiced by many religious movements throughout the ages

No.

There is nothing particularly transformative, spiritual, enlightened, or uplifting about guilt. This is fallacious.

Guilt can serve a purpose. If it is valid, and grounded in some sort of reality. So, certainly, if one deliberately and knowingly and purposefully injures another, or commits crimes, or behaves in heinous ways, then guilt is an appropriate emotional response to such behaviors. Rape, murder, spousal or child abuse, larceny, governmental corruption -- all of these are candidates for guilt. In my experience, people who behave in these ways very seldom experience anything like an emotional response that resembles guilt.

Guilt is not equivalent to remorse. Remorse is what a normal, responsible, appropriately socialized human animal experiences when they fail to perform as is expected within the context of whatever relational setting they find themselves in. So, for example, if a parent arrives late to an important dance recital because all the traffic lights were red and they simply didn't leave enough travel time to "get there," there ought to be real sadness, sorrow, and remorse; not to mention disappointment all the way around. But guilt? Please!

I think that this pattern of thinking is about shame. Guilt is about feeling bad about behavior. Shame is about feeling bad about the self. Where I have trouble with this line of reasoning, applied to BDSM practice, is that there is an underlying shame to it -- a feeling bad about the self, and a need to somehow justify the drive toward this need with "guilt/shame" while dismissing the possibility for the more joyful, healthy, and positively embraced sexual, erotic pleasure/pain "play."

I reject that perspective.

Now, I know that it is polite and socially correct, at this point, to make the disclaimer that not everyone does this the same way, and that not everyone has the same experience, and that we all see things differently, and blah, blah, blah, blah. I'm sorry. I just can't go there on this one. Too many people have struggled in the dark with their fear and their shame to come to terms with their own identies with regard to their sadomasochistic selves to have it somehow put back into a guilt/shame box -- even in a back-handed way by anyone. I won't endorse that thinking.

I believe that, when I see that sort of rationale being put forward, that what I am seeing is someone struggling with their own shame. I believe that I am seeing someone who is denying the reality and truth of who they are because to acknowledge that truth is painful to them at this point in their journey. I can understand and sympathize with that pain, but I cannot let it stand as an unchallenged fact.

People do use discipline and punishment within this lifestyle. People do use humiliation and shame. People do use pain for catharsis and transformation. Underneath it all, though, they are people of worth and value and joy. Underneath it all, they understand who they are and what they want and what they need to achieve their own pleasure. They are not "guilty" and they are not ashamed. They are healthy and strong and proud of who and what they are, and who WE are.

swan

Salmonella

We've just returned from the doctor.
He has salmonella.
We are really not entirely sure where He may have picked it up.
What we do know is that it is self-limiting, and that it will run its course within the week most likely. We also know that, of the possibilities that have been suggested over the last few days, this is the least frightening and sinister.
He is some better. Still very weak and not feeling well, but better.
We are all exhausted, but relieved.
Thank you all for your good wishes, your prayers, your friendship, and your kindness.

swan

He's Ill

Master is ill. Very ill.
We've been in and out of emergency facilities twice in the last two days so that He can be "rehydrated." He is terribly weak and barely eating anything. Doctors are calling this (generically) "Traveler's Disease" while we wait for the actual critters to be identified. Of course we haven't BEEN traveling (although they do admit this sort of thing runs rampant at nursing homes, and we do spend a lot of time at nursing homes these days). He's receiving some pretty high end antibiotics and we are hoping He begins to feel some better soon, although at this moment, we've seen no sign of that.

So, if it is quiet here, you will all know why. We're awfully busy.

swan

Fair?

A question was asked recently as to why it is that I am the only one that is spanked in our household (at least on any sort of regular basis), and doesn't that seem "unfair?"

It is the sort of question that sometimes comes at us from (presumably) honestly curious, and well-meaning observers of our dynamic that just causes me to feel as if I am standing open-mouthed with nothing to say but, "because I am, and no it doesn't." Except that answering like that seems unduly terse and comes off seeming "hostile."

The question doesn't make me feel antagonistic or hostile. It is just that, in order to answer a question that feels so devoid of any kind of intrinsic understanding of our relational dynamics, I imagine having to construct an entire universe of complex descriptions and definitions, before I can explain -- and by the time I get it all built up conceptually, the question should probably be not a question anymore. Or am I kidding myself?

Oh well, let me see if I can create some sort of framework that makes this a little bit clear:

We are three capable, educated, self-aware, mature adults. We have all lived better than half a century on this planet. We've done some things, known some people, experienced some ups and some downs. We've had joys and sorrows; failures and triumphs. We've pretty much come to know the inner workings or our hearts and minds, and to be comfortable in our own skins. None of us spend a lot of time wishing we were someone else or apologizing much for who we are. Each of us is unique, with our own personality, our own history, our own set of needs, our own "way" of being in the world and with one another.

We live together, by choice and by great good luck. We have forged a family that loves and cares, not because society decrees it, but because we choose it and define it and manifest it in our lives. A significant, defining, foundational aspect of that is our relational power dynamic. We consciously and deliberately elect to define the flow of power and authority within our relationships, and we choose to formally recognize and enact those energy structures in our lives.

Because every individual is unique, each relationship between individuals is unique as well. That is true within our family, just as it is in all other relationships and families. Each of our "pair" relationships has its own character. So, for example, T and I relate to each other differently, than Master and I do. The boundaries are different, the issues are different, the needs are different, and so is the power dynamic. The "triad" relationship, likewise, has a different flavor and energy to it than do any of the dyads.

In specific terms, T and I relate as "sisters." We each love and care for Master, we support and care for each other, we share the work of the household, we collaborate on things, we join in "making mischief" around Him. It is our dynamic. We are peers. Master and T have a D/s relationship. She is His wife and His collared submissive. T is very service oriented and devotes herself to keeping track of household social obligations, managing our entertainment schedules, managing the shopping, handling much of the medical and insurance record keeping, etc. She is the planner and organizer. She is a wonderful, talented, resourceful, creative cook. Without her, we would starve all alone. She does not have an orientation to pain. This is a very real health and well-being issue that arises out of significant medical hurdles in her past. He chooses not to engage in SM play with her precisely because He cherishes her and would not harm her. He and I are Master and slave. Along with the practical, daily, shared management of His household, I am His masochistic partner in service to His sadomasochism. For He and I, SM is the connecting bridge that expresses our sexual erotic orientation. It is a shared gift that we explore with one another. I understand and accept that He hurts me because He loves me, and I absolutely know that He will not harm me. I experience that "hurting" as connective and loving, and I miss it and crave it if it is absent from our interactions for any significant period of time.

Which, brings me back around to the original question: Why am I the only one that gets spanked, and doesn't that seem unfair?

Because I do, and no it doesn't.

swan

Am I Real?

I sometimes get wrapped up in wanting to be more "real." In convincing myself that I am somehow "not real" or "not real enough." I can see the signs and symptoms of it in my thinking and in my emotional responses to things, and I know that it is not factually an intellectual position or reaction. I've come to feel as if it is almost more of an effect of living the way I do in the world the way it is. If I had to describe it, I'd say that it is like having places where your skin feels irritated for no particular reason -- the irritated spots just show up periodically from out of nowhere and generate discomfort and "itchiness."

There are many different ways to think about the question of "what is real?" Of course, it is possible to pick up the dictionary and look it up, but the definition (Being or occurring in fact or actuality; having verifiable existence: real objects; a real illness. True and actual; not imaginary, alleged, or ideal) just isn't all that helpful in terms of how I'm thinking/feeling just now. The notion of "real" that feels more like what I mean in my head when I am saying it feels more like "consensual truth" -- what is it that we, as a society, agree is the truth about something. It's that business of "whatever we say it means, what matters is how we all actually behave about it in the event."

So when I get into these places where I'm itching about being real or more real, I'm really reacting to the social reflection that communicates that there is something inherently NOT TRUE about my life, my position, my relationship. It comes from the small, subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) uphill battles of being His without being able to be public about that. It comes from the almost endless complexity of navigating the social and legal details of polyamory like credit and bank accounts and budgets and insurance and separate addresses and who can know and what they can know and when and where and...

Usually, I just go along and don't pay attention. I don't fuss and I don't obsess and I don't dream of the day when I could become "legally" His. It isn't going to happen. I understand. I see the bumper stickers --

My logical, reasonable, sensible mind tells me that it isn't important. I'm not going to be bringing children into this. I'm all grown up and pretty well self-defined, and I don't need "white lace and promises" to fulfill any of my dreams. But it hurts. It tells me that I am outside. Permanently. Simply because of the numbers. Two. Not three. Our socially "consensual truth" defines marriage by gender and number. As long as you fulfill the gender and number criteria, you can have your marriage recognized ceremonially in almost any sort of context you can dream up: church, courthouse, beach, sci-fi convention, Las Vegas marrying parlor, sporting event -- you name it. No limits, no requirements, no definitions or obligations or expectations past that point: boy meets girl equals two.

I don't have any problem with all the "twos." I know and love lots of wonderful "twos." Not the least of which would be my own dear Loves. I also know that IF there could be a legal way to make me part of this household, officially, it WOULD happen, and without any hesitation or pause. But. There is no legal status for me. I am not "real." I am really "His." Inside our doors and our walls, there is no question or doubt. It is just the rest of the world. That's a BIG place, where I have to live and operate a lot of the time. I bang around out there and after awhile, my nerves start to fray and the irritation begins to show.

Ahhhh, well. No answers. Just fussiness.

swan

Wait! Wait! Please, Wait!

Like an express train running downhill on a clear track, His penchant, when He gets a whip in His hand is to lay it on with speed and enthusiasm. Whatever the "common wisdom" is in BDSM circles about warm-ups and all that pretty fantasy pablum that is doled out to the starry-eyed newbies, His favorite approach doesn't often include that nice, slow, sensual, easy build up...

So, on Sunday, when He was ready to start in with the rubber flogger and told me to roll over, I was hard pressed to get into position quickly enough to suit Him (especially since He was lying on my arm and I really couldn't roll over as requested without ripping my arm out of the socket). Once I did manage to get myself extricated and rolled over onto my stomach, He was right on me before I could even get myself flat on the bed.

Or get my arms tucked in.

Or try to get my breathing settled.

Or get my head in a halfway appropriate space.

Or...

He'd contemplated (earlier) not spanking me at all because I was so marked up from the day before. Then, remembering the rubber flogger, I think He decided that was "light enough" to inflict a significant level of pain without doing much damage.

Rubber burns. It lands and adheres. When it pulls away, it pulls the top layer of skin with it, and that pulling leaves a sensation that is like sunburn -- everyplace it touches.

Rapid fire whip strokes with the rubber flogger and I was soon gasping for breath. I simply couldn't keep up. Even the most minimal bit of processing takes a bit of time. Just the barest bit of space can give me chance to accommodate the patterns and rhythms of it all -- to catch the wave and ride it.

I'm not sure when I started begging Him to wait -- "Wait! Wait! Please, Wait!"

I heard Him chuckling -- "What is it we are waiting for?" He asked me.

"I just need a minute," I told Him. "I can't catch up. Please. Just give me a minute."

He just laughed. "Did you miss the train?" But He stopped for a few minutes and held me while I panted my way to some sort of center. I knew, and He knew we weren't nearly done -- and we did (shortly) get right back to it.

Some would say I had more control, in that moment, than I ever should have had. I don't know. I don't have anything like a formal safeword. I talk to Him. I react. I lay the responses all out for Him, and He decides. I don't have any illusions that He has to "wait" just because I ask Him to. There have probably been dozens of times when I ask for time and don't get it. This time, He read the signals, and decided, to slow the train down long enough for me to at least climb on board.

swan

Confidence

My ass hurts. I've got welts and bruises. Yesterday, I got myself whipped and I'm not even sure what all else... I cried and begged and screamed and promised anything to try and stop it. And then I got another dose of the rubber flogger this morning. I'm happier than I've been in awhile. Life is good.

Confidence is important. To go into a space where there is the certainty of personal vulnerability and pain and humiliation and risk requires an internal sense of sure anchoring that keeps the moorings solid. If that confidence is lost, the foundation crumbles and there is nothing left to stand on in the face of the storms that buffet the psyche during a "scene."

Actually, for the masochistic, "bottom" partner in a scene, which is my perspective and role, the issue is really self-confidence. It comes down to trusting myself; believing that I have what it takes to go through the challenges. Self-confidence gives a bit of fearlessness -- that underlying knowledge that, no matter what, I'm sturdy enough and brave enough to get to the other side and do what He needs me to do and take what He asks me to take.

Self-confidence is built out of a whole lot of pieces. Part of it comes from experience; from understanding who I really am -- from observing myself and my own reactions and knowing that I have the strengths and skills that this requires. Some of it is made up of accumulated "successes." Everytime someone like me goes through an intense scene and comes out the other side feeling like it went well, that adds to the confidence that I am somehow "valid." A very real component of my self-confidence comes from the signals I get from Him. When He believes in me, I can trust my own perceptions -- and when it seems that He doubts my solidity or my committment, then I begin to doubt it all myself.

I am not sure how it all looks or feels from His perspective, but I imagine that it is rather more difficult in some ways because He really does love and care for me. If He could simply hurt me, as He might desire, without any particular investment in my physical or emotional well-being, things would be pretty straight forward: do the sadistic thing and damn the consequences. However, there is that love connection we share. It causes Him to evaluate and moderate His actions with my needs in mind.

In the last stretch that has sometimes meant that He opts to go easy on me when He judges that I am struggling at the very edge of my tolerance or endurance. He holds back, and our play gets scaled down in terms of frequency and intensity. That gives my butt a break, but it sets off a whole cascade of other things.

I try to hang on and understand the motivation behind His gentleness, and I can do that for awhile. After awhile, though, I start to question what's going on with Him and with us. I begin to wonder why He doesn't want to play with me anymore. I begin to need Him to just take me to the place where I may not be brave enough to go by myself -- tie me up, if need be, but get me through it. As it goes on, I can turn what is meant to be caring into a negative judgement, and it isn't a very long step until it is a judgement that I come to agree with: "Why would He want to play with me? I'm just not worth the trouble; I'm too wimpy and too boring to be worth the bother." None of that is coming from Him -- I'm making it up in my own head, but once I get on that wheel, getting off of it is next to impossible and I'm on the way to my own private brand of craziness.

So, yesterday, when I signed us up for an upcoming BDSM event involving a couple of nights of public play parties, the damn burst. All of my fears and imaginings were suddenly put right up against the reality of having to play in public and I just KNEW that I was in no way able to measure up.

Suddenly, standing (all ruffled up and wild eyed) in the kitchen, I found myself saying to Him, "we need to find You someone to take into the Dungeon at COPE." Imagine a critter that looked sort of like this:

Yup. Totally freaked out and scared witless. Spitting and hissing and trying to put some sort of "face" on it all. Because I'm not allowed to run and hide.

I know, inside me someplace, that when it gets to this point that what I need is to be beaten. Soundly. Repeatedly. Regularly. But it scares me. I'm not THAT KIND of masochist. I'm the kind of masochist who needs it; craves it; has to have it -- and hates it; fights it; struggles with it terribly. That makes me a particular problem I guess for the sadistic half of this relationship.

But. He knows. He diagnoses really well. He understands that spitting and hissing is a fear thing and that my paralysis around that means that I need His active control to overcome. So... all the restraints were put firmly in place and over my early protests that "I didn't want to do this," He went after me with a level of intensity that I haven't experienced for a good long while. He extracted from me the litany of declarations about whose I am and for how long and how -- over and over. He elicited my cries and my shrieks and my promises. I bled for Him and He went right on. Until He was done and I was calmer and finally steady and sure again.

Until the confidence was back for us both.

swan

Yaplet Chat

We are trying another round of Yaplet Chatting this week...
Not quite the Coffee Klatsch, but as close as we can get given the fact that friends live all over the place.
We'll be on just about 9:00 PM on Saturday evening (that's Eastern Daylight Time).
If you are around and have NOTHING interesting to do with your Saturday night -- and want all of the rest of us to know about it (like us), join us for some conversation.

swan

Coffee Klatsch

The trouble with writing for me is that, every now and then, all the things that I am thinking about gather themselves up together in a big swirling vortex of words and ideas, and I have a devil of a time sorting them out into any sort of reasonable or orderly pattern or context. They spin from one thing to another in my head and reconfigure themselves and partner up and hold hands like some sort of wild conceptual hill-jack hoedown in my brain.


It would be so much easier if I could have all the folks that I read gathered around my living room in a nice, comfy circle with tea and coffee cake and we could all just chatter away about all of this until the ideas got themselves sorted out. Because that's what I've got here really, is a little bit of this and that, gathered up from here and there and the other place. Ideas and feelings and reactions to things that people are talking and writing about -- and that I just want to talk about until I'm done talking about them.

Morningstar has a piece on her site about collars, and I know that she was reacting and responding to things that kaya's been writing about her own evolution as she's thought about her own collar-wearing experience here lately. So, of course, it has had me back into thinking about the idea of the collar and what it is and what it means and how we use it and where it comes from. Because, of course, we don't and never have done it the way it is usually done. Imagine! I have a lovely, chain mail collar that I wear with joy and delight when the circumstances of my life make that practical and sensible. I do not wear it when doing so would jeopardize my career or our social situation in some fashion. It is not locked, and I put it on (generally) and take it off as appropriate. He likes to see me wear it and finds it attractive, but if I don't have it on at any particular moment, He very well might not notice that, and it is not an issue. He and I did not go through the "steps" of collaring that morningstar outlines in her discussion. In fact, He gave me this collar because I asked for it. That request was made, in large part, because we were playing in public venues, and having no collar in public settings left me feeling uncomfortably vulnerable anytime I was not in His immediate presence. The collar would, I knew, give me some security in that setting because it would clearly speak, to all who saw me, of His ownership -- and so I would be able to relax and not feel as if I had to continually defend my personal boundaries. This collar was selected for me by Master and T, purchased at a booth at Ohio Leather Fest, and placed immediately around my neck. There was nothing particularly "formal" about the act or the occasion. It was a gift given in consideration of a need expressed. It is, surely, one of the symbols of our bond. It is not the only one, or the most significant one.

Symbols are interesting. They mean exactly what we decide they mean. They carry whatever weight we give them. The collar that I wear sits lightly somedays, and very heavily on others. I embrace it easily most of the time, and then there are times when I struggle with it and tug at its links with honest frustration. In that sense, it does accurately mirror the reality of my slavery: a very good symbol, indeed. Still, it is a symbol. It is not the reality. If it was gone, or broken, or lost in some fashion, the truth of my bond to this Man would remain entirely unchanged. The linkage between us is not forged in a bit of metal, but within our hearts and souls and minds. I would belong to Him, and did belong to Him, long before there was a collar on my neck; long before there was a ring on my finger; long before there were scars in my flesh.

I understand that these are my truths, and that this is not IT for everyone. For some, that collar and the business of progressing through levels of collaring is important and significant. I am aware that many celebrate collaring ceremonies marking the passage into formal power relationships, and I've participated in some of these observances with friends. I do not dismiss the import of these rituals for those who find them valid and valuable. Rites of passage such as these speak deeply in the human psyche, and have a real place in our lives. It is just not something we've engaged in for our own path.

Another thing that I've gotten sort of bemused about in the last few days is this Second Life thing that I am hearing more and more about in various places. There was this reference to it on kaya's journal, but it keeps cropping up everywhere, and I've recently found other friends have sort of disappeared off into this "imaginary" world. How very odd. I know I'm an old lady and terribly behind the times, but I just don't get it. I really, really don't. Help me. Please. Virtual. On-line. Bits and bytes. Electronic impulses. Binary code. Zeroes and ones. Hello?

I'll admit that I came into this stuff way back in the days when "Pong" was new, so I'm entirely too old to even comprehend why someone wants to LIVE their life inside a computer GAME for pity's sake. I'll grant you that this is clearly light year's from the computer games that I remember, but it isn't REAL. It is on-line interaction enhanced with "gaming" technology and fancy graphic interfaces. Neat if that's your thing I guess, but I am still pretty seriously bum-fuzzled as to how any intelligent, sane, grounded adult person gets lost in this stuff. Someone help me to my rocking chair...

And then there is more on the Domestic Discipline front. Sigh. Vivian, over at The Disciplined Feminist, continues to struggle with what she is now referring to as "The Big Problem." In simple terms, that comes down to this: she is a self-controlled, intelligent adult who follows the rules and does not deliberately misbehave most of the time. She makes reasonable choices in her life and so does not act in ways that would typically merit "punishment" within the parameters of a typically defined DD relationship. Still she craves the catharsis that comes from serious disciplinary encounters. And she has a partner to whom she has trouble relinquishing that level of control -- there is an inherent "respect" issue that is clear when you read what she writes, although she never quite gets to it in so many words.

That is the usual struggle with DD. People with any sort of integrity and intelligence, who actually need and want serious spanking/discipline in their lives, find that they are caught on the horns of a dilemma. To act with integrity in their relationship, they must behave well (and any sensible, responsible adult CAN do that) which reduces the number of disciplinary spankings to almost nil. If they deny the possibility of serious disciplinary spankings under the command of an appropriate and respected Dominant partner, simply because that is a need that both have and understand, then they struggle endlessly to find ways to fulfill the need within a framework that does not work in that fashion. In the end, it all devolves to role play and silliness. Unfortunately, those who attach determinedly to DD tend to see anything "beyond" the bounds of Domestic Discipline as merely erotic and sexual fantasy (her words -- not mine), and so devalue it for themselves. This is, sadly, the thought pattern that Vivian is stuck in. Being stuck there means that she is leaning firmly against the doorway to the room where the solution to her "big problem" is waiting for her. It is that old lesson: doors don't open until you quit leaning against them.

swan

Do You Believe In What You Can't See?

When you teach, there comes a point where you want students to understand not just what it is that they know, but how it is that they know it. We want learners to move from "knowing" something because they are told it is so, or because they read about it in a book somewhere, to having some more active and personally authentic knowledge of the reality. Ideally, active, questing, engaged learners will question and explore and hypothesize and test the reality of what they know until they assure themselves of the reality of their understandings.



In just about two weeks, we will notice the passage of the date when we first did the cutting five years ago. The marks themselves have faded some but their significance has deepened as the time has gone by. However we viewed what it was that we were doing that night, it was surely the "formal" beginning of our relationship to one another as Master and slave. To take the mark of another person permanently into your flesh is to accept their hold on you in a very stark and immediate fashion. I am sure I did not entirely understand that consciously that night. I do now.



I look back at the time that has passed, and I am stunned. I am stunned at how quickly it has flown by. I am stunned at all that has happened. I am stunned at the differences (big and small) between what I thought I knew about what I was choosing then, and what I have come to understand about it as it has been lived.



So much that seemed critically important and essential to the doing of this in the beginning, seems less so now. Other things that I never considered in the beginning have come to be a part of the ongoing reality. Change is a fact of being alive, obviously.



I look around, read from place to place, talk with people with whom I have "connections" of one kind or another, and I can sense the changes that have happened inside myself. I shrug a lot these days. I find myself thinking -- "oh yeah, I felt like that once too." Sometimes, that makes me feel old and jaded. Other times it simply makes me feel settled, and not all frantic to run and try or prove or do everything there is out there. I am not as anxious as I once was.



I understand that there are those who would look at how my life is and not be able to SEE the power exchange. Our protocols are not very formal and there is very little about our household that gives away the dynamic to the casual observer. What we do in our regular routines is so ingrained that it is barely perceptible as to who actually "controls" it or drives it. Those who get a chance to talk with the three of us are almost always bemused by the easy, light banter that goes on between us. We laugh and tease and chatter away -- and Master is quite often, and (usually) quite happily the target of shared merriment between T and I (scandalous!) -- entirely lacking in decorum! Oh, there'd be no question if one were privy to a session, but those are rarer than they once were. There are reasons for that as well; and He does decide.



It often can't be seen. Some would insist that what can't be seen does not exist. Of course, there were those who, in their day, questioned the reality of such things as oxygen, and electricity, and gravity.



In the beginning, I "knew" about D/s and M/s mostly by what I read and what I could learn from "talking" with others. Five years ago, I knew what little I'd been told and what I'd managed to read about on my own, but my experience was limited. I had facts but no personal truth. These years have given me time to test and try and live inside my own head and heart and body. What I know about M/s today is my authentic truth. I have lived this relationship around the clock and around the calendar now for more than a few turns. There is much more to learn and I sincerely hope I have the time to learn it, but I know the way it will come to me now.



swan

His Hand

Anyone who has ever parented a child probably has, somewhere in their possession, this kind of artwork. It might be paint on paper or an impression left in clay or plaster of paris... the mark of a tiny hand, captured for posterity. This one is pretty typical -- and uniquely wonderful and special as they all seem to those of us who receive them and display them with great joy when they come to us from our own little ones.

One of the things that is so "typical" about this one is the orientation of it. It is done upright, with the fingers pointing toward the top. It is exactly the way I imagine most of these sorts of pieces are done. It is the way that the ones I always got from my children were done, and it is the way that I've done them with countless children along the way. It is THE way we do these things. Because it is.

A week ago, we traveled to visit Master's grown daughter. She and her boyfriend have recently purchased their first home, and have been eager to show it off. She had also just celebrated a birthday, and so our trip was a combined visit to the new abode, a birthday celebration, and a late father's day observance. Part of what happened during that visit was that she brought out a box of items that she had gotten from her mother's house when she moved which were not hers and which she believed might belong to her Dad (long complicated story). The two of them went through the odds and ends in the box, sorting and sifting and reminiscing. There wasn't a lot and most of it wasn't anything that He especially cared about.

However.

Tucked way at the bottom of the box, all wrapped up in newspaper was this plaster impression of a child's hand...


This is His Hand. This, He thinks, He did in Sunday School (yes, The Heretic once went to Sunday School) when He was very small. It has His name etched into the back, although there is no date.

Isn't it fabulous?

Even more amazing to me -- notice where the hanger is. This child's hand was made, oh so many years ago to hang, not with the fingers upright, as almost all are, but in this "sideways" (spanking?) position. I think it was prophetic, and that is exactly the way I have this little bit of precious artwork hung on the wall near the bed -- right where I'll see it when my eyes open each morning.

swan

Processing Pain

To live inside of a relationship that is significantly defined by sadomasochistic power exchange requires at least some ability to process painful stimuli in some positive fashion. Different people experience that differently, of course.


In fact, I have experienced it differently at different points in time, even within the context of this relationship. Still, I believe that I am, at my core, essentially masochistic (however convoluted the manifestation of that might be), and understanding how pain works within my sexual/erotic expression feels important to me.


Emily Dickinson wrote:

The Mystery of Pain


Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.

That speaks truthfully to me. I don't remember when I did not have these dark, hot fantasies about being compelled by One who would hurt me. I know that for as long as I have lived within this relationship, there have been periods of time (sometimes lengthy) that were blurred into almost continuous stretches of pain -- endured, survived, anticipated, and that those time periods have given me insight to my past and windows into my future. That future, I know, will be stippled with the pain of paddlings and strappings and canings for as long as the two of us can physically do it.

But, then... as He is quick to point out, once a long time ago, I played at a much higher level, and with a much different frame of reference. I took far more "punishment" with a sense of eagerness and joy that I seldom (if ever) reach anymore. I miss that time. I remember it with fondness and wistfulness and longing. I am, sometimes, afraid of the consequences of having lost that capacity for meeting His appetites with ones of my own that somehow seem "equal."


Which all leads me to the place of contemplating and wondering about processing and eroticizing pain -- the ways of that mystery which lies at the deepest, darkest heart of our connecting.

I think there are layers and levels to the question of pain processing within the context of sadomasochism. It isn't all the same thing. Even as we are all uniquely shaped for the ways we engage in this orientation, so there are vast variations in how sadomasochistic power exchange manifests in individuals and between partners. I want to know more clearly what is understood in general about the subject, but, more specifically, I want to have some better insight into my own reactions so that I can work to move in the direction that will help me grow in my own development as the sexual being I am (with the gifts I have been given).

What then are the components of pain processing in sadomasochism? Some of them are well-known and well understood, but there are others that I believe are less well documented. Beginning now, I am committed to learning what I can about how pain is perceived and processed in sexual sadomasochism.

Acceptance -- Mindset is, perhaps, the single largest part of how pain is dealt with I suspect. BDSM is, first and foremost, a consensual practice, and the pain that is inflicted is (at its most primal level) sought out and, by definition, accepted by the recipient. Accepting and encompassing the pain changes the way that the sensations are perceived and tolerated. Acceptance of the pain allows it to become connective rather than aversive and frightening. Other approaches to pain management: avoidance or trying to "think it through" may give the masochist some pathways to travel away from overwhelmingly intense sensations, but are likely going to be less successful, ultimately than a full acceptance of the pain itself. There have actually been clinical studies, conducted in the area of chronic pain management that would seem to support this conclusion. The mindset that leads to acceptance and integration of the reception of pain is within the realm of choice. A masochist can choose the attitude of acceptance rather than that of avoidance.

Pacing -- Pacing can have a real impact on how pain is perceived. When intense sensations are delivered at carefully regulated intervals, the ability to process the pain is generally greater than when the same sets of stimuli wash over the masochist in an uncontrolled flood. Again, within the chronic pain management field, the notion of pacing, plays a very real role in approaching pain tolerance. Within that environment, individuals are taught to find their "baselines." Baselines are levels of activity that can be reached before the pain that an individual experiences becomes "worse." Patients with chronic pain, are encouraged to change their activity when they reach the level where an activity would cause the pain to become worse. Within the BDSM community, we often talk about something similar to this notion of pacing without really establishing what it means, or without having any clear sense of how we might establish a pace that would either assist in the processing of pain or make that more difficult. Obviously, the pacing of a sadomasochistic "session" is not typically within the control of the masochistic (or bottom) partner.

Endorphins -- Painful stimuli can, under certain circumstances, release chemical compounds called endorphins. Endorphins are a family of endogenous morphinelike peptides present within the central nervous system. Their discovery has greatly enhanced the understanding of the mechanism of action of opiate drugs and how the perception of pain is modulated within the central nervous system. The release of endorphins depends on many factors, and has varying levels of impact on the perception of painful stimuli.

Personal well-being -- Pain is experienced within physical, mental, emotional, and environmental contexts. Depending on how each of those realities is coping with the onrush of painful stimuli in a particular encounter, the pain can seem more or less intense. As I have discovered in the last year and a half, the state of my physical and mental health makes a very real difference in how I deal with pain. I've also discovered that my emotions make a big difference, too. Surprise! If I am frustrated, angry, hurt, scared... then pain is much tougher to encompass. Pain happens first, of course, in the body, but it gets managed in the head. So, it makes sense that what is happening in the emotional life of a masochist is going to impact the procssing of painful sensation.

Tricks -- There are a whole wealth of "tricks" to managing pain. There are biofeedback techniques and breathing techniques and meditation techniques and relaxation techniques. There are methods that are learned in prepared childbirth classes. There are the kinds of dissociative defenses that some of us may have developed in abusive situations. Some of these methods for managing and escaping from the presence of pain work better in some circumstances than others. They can have the disadvantage of "taking the individual away from full presence" in the moment.

Another part of dealing with pain in BDSM is in what is expected. The level of pain experienced is related to the level of pain that is expected. If the masochist can trust that the stimuli will not be beyond the level that is "tolerable," the fear factor can be reduced and the ability to manage it can be increased. Expectations do influence our perceptions of the levels of pain we experience, and those perceptions change our sense of how well or badly we feel about that pain.

All of that is "information." Some of that I had already. Some of it is new. I hardly think it is an exhaustive study of the subject. It is a beginning place for me to start reshaping the way I think about pain in terms of what it is that we do. Some of that is within my control -- how I think about the whole idea of "pain" for example. Other parts of it are not at all within my domain. I have no ability at all to control the pacing or environment that surrounds my experiences of pain.

I just want to become more pro-active in my development as a partner in this relationship. I want to find my way back to the place where I was when I was more His match as a play partner. If I could make that happen, that would be worth the effort.

swan

Summertime

One of the things that happens for us, as the summer moves us along, is that we settle into a rhythm with one another that feels more reasonable and organic. Once the wildness of the school year ends, and the exhaustion fades a bit, He and I tend to find a kind of ease that tends to elude us during the stringently time regulated days of the school year. We sleep later and stay awake into the later hours of the evening. We find a calmer pace to our love making and our play. We are prone to let our bodies drive what we do instead of forcing it into the schedule dictated by the calendar.



I get spanked more in the summer time. But we don't feel frantic about it either. It doesn't have to happen today -- or tomorrow. The tides can rise and fall as they do, and He and I can ride the swells without anxiety or pressure. It feels completely easy, for example, to wake in the early morning, like today, when He went to snuggle with T, and ask Him if He'd have time to spank me later on -- to hear Him assure me that of course He would...



It seems OK to have that spanking, when it came, be exactly whatever it would be -- as easy as difficult without having it need to be loaded with all kinds of weight born of time pressures. We were given the grace of simply having it be an interlude for us without an agenda. What a pure joy that feels to me just now.



I'm still hoping for some "kinds" of sessions. Special "events" that don't happen much in the busy times of the year, like a session on the flogging frame someday, but the summer is far from over. There is still time ahead of us. I feel good about what has been and what is still to come.



swan

What's Domestic Discipline?

We had dinner with a friend on Friday: A "vanilla" friend. A friend who is wonderfully non-judgemental about us and also openly curious about the way that we live our lives.

One of the questions that arose over the course of a long evening of conversation was "What is Domestic Discipline (DD)?"

We only sort of answered that question. It isn't that we attempted to sidestep it, or that we wanted to soft-pedal the answer, or that we are unable to competenly find our way through that discussion. The truth is that, from our perspective, the answer to the question of "what is DD?" is multi-layered and more complex than it really seems at first glance. That is a function of long experience and, of course, personal bias. We have practiced "domestic discipline." We have acquaintances and friends who have practiced DD as well. We have significant understanding of the dynamic.

Still, it would have been easy enough to let the question just go on by and not engage in the contemplation of this particular "branch" of the BDSM tree except for the recent conversation with Vivian from The Disciplined Feminist. Thinking about some of the questions and quandries that she is currently wrapped up in, brought me to lot of thinking about the whole set of assumptions upon which Domestic Discipline is founded.

Maybe the comment that Vivian made sums up the most common experience that I've seen over the years I've had occasion to know people who have tried to implement DD in their lives:

"I'm increasingly convinced that the disparity between fantasy and reality is one of the most dangerous pitfalls of developing a DD relationship. I have read posts from so many disappointed and frustrated women who don't understand why their DD relationships aren't turning out the way they saw them in their head..."

That is pretty much the real meat of what I'm going to say here. In just a couple of lines. So, if you are not into reading a fullblown treatise on the subject, you could quit now.

Definitionally, Domestic Discipline (DD) isn't that complicated. It is a consensual relational power dynamic in which one partner is given a degree of authority to make decisions for the relationship, and concommitant power to enforce those decisions. The goals of this power transference are most often identified as a reduction in conflict, improved communication and connection, enhanced intimacy, management of perceived problematic behaviors, and more efficiency in the management of the practical matters within the relationship. In terms of implementation, the practice is widely (and most typically) based on rules and the use of regularly applied punishment, most often in the form of spanking (although other models can be found).


On the face of it, clearly DD falls under the umbrella of BDSM when one understands that acronym to mean Bondage/Discipline/Dominance/Submission/Sadism/Masochism. However, there are many adherents to the tenets of DD who will argue loudly that they do not DO BDSM. Most often, when I've gotten embroiled in that debate, it comes down to what people see as a contrast: DD seems nice and clean cut and wholesome (think Donna Reed for those of you who are old enough to remember her) while BDSM seems dark and sinister and perverted and "in-your-face" kinky. So, if you do DD, you spank but you don't have to come to terms with the darkness of that part of who you are -- it is "sanitized" and "civilized." There are even groups who practice it from a religious basis and justify it with scriptural backing (I won't even go there).


I came into the "real-life" practice of BDSM through the doorway marked "Domestic Discipline." I think that my experience with it (up to a certain point) parallels that of many who follow the DD path. So, perhaps, my story can be illustrative. I'd had spanking fantasies and control fantasies throughout my adult life. As I married very young, I really didn't understand those parts of my sexual orientation, and I married a man with no interest in spanking. For almost all of the years of my marriage, I hid those desires, or at the very most, extremely tentatively tried to introduce the idea of spanking to my husband. Those efforts ended dismally each and everytime. He saw my drives toward spanking and control as "sick" and "perverse." Then, I purchased my first personal computer and typed "spanking" into a search engine. What I found changed my life; set me on the path. But the beginning, for me, was the same as the beginning for many others who have the same wants and needs, because they like me are going to find these places:

• Fondly and Firmly


• Vicki Blue's Domestic Discipline


• Digits and Maryann's Domestic Discipline

Nowadays, unlike then, people will likely also find their way to the "Taken In Hand" blog. I am not going to provide links to any of those sites because I don't endorse the things that you would find there. Misinformation is dispensed and blatant deception is practiced at some of these sites. I know the facts personally, and I simply will not recommend them.



I read all about DD with amazement and wonder and a dimly growing sense of hope in those early desperate days of my explorations. Very gently, and timidly, I showed it to my husband, and he seemed to be interested. Domestic Discipline is the "nice guy's" brand of BDSM. After all, it talks about being gentlemanly; exercising leadership in the family; providing guidance and strong character. Golly, who wouldn't go for that song and dance? "We" decided to give it a try (note the quotation marks -- they are intentional). I signed us up for an email discussion list on YahooGroups and we were off to the races. I had all kinds of questions which I asked on list, and discussed with other list members at great length. He hardly ever read or wrote there. That is not unusual. In fact, it is almost a hallmark on these lists. The participation level is heavily tilted toward the female partner, and the number of males who take part is very small. The same questions get asked (and answered) over and over and over:

• How can I get him to spank me?


• How can I get him to spank me harder?


• How can I get him to spank me differently?


• How can I get him not to spank me so hard?


• How can I get him to be more consistent?


• What do I do when he does something I don't agree with?


• What if I don't like it when he spanks me?


• How can I get him to spank me?
  

Repeat endlessly. It becomes a never-ending loop that leads to nowhere.

And that is the difficulty. That is the dilemma that is pointed to by what Vivian notes in her comment that I cited at the beginning of all of this. Women almost always introduce DD to relationships. They convince their men to enter into the arrangement in order to fulfill some "fantasy" that they hold in their minds. Because the nature of DD is that it is heavily rule laden and carefully structured to eliminate any potential for uncertainty, surprise, or loss of control on the part of the "non-dominant" partner, the negotiations almost always serve to create a system that establishes the titular "head" in a position that is entirely at the service of the nominal "subordinate." That clash between what is stated as the intent and what exists as the reality creates all kinds of cognitive dissonance as the partners try to resolve the unacknowledged paradox. The most common result is continual jostling as the HOH (DD parlance for "head of household") attempts repeatedly to assert the control which he is supposed to be exercising only to have it questioned, evaluated, and often found lacking in one way or another. When, understandably, the (usually initially reluctant, didn't ask for this in the first place) "King of the Castle" then backs way off, he is called to task for lack of consistency. Meanwhile the poor, unfulfilled, frustrated, confused, waiting to be swept-off-her-feet "surrendered" woman fidgets and pouts at the injustice of it all.


Now, to be fair, it doesn't always go that way. A few people make it work. I know a very few working DD relationships. And some, like me, move from strict DD on into more "traditional" or "mainstream" (or whatever other word that doesn't fit very well in that context) styles of BDSM. I think that DD is, for most people with a drive toward BDSM related activities, a detour and, quite possibly a backwater eddy where it is possible to get stuck. Unless couples have the great good luck to find wise heads from the wider community, they are unlikely to find their way through the power exchange dynamics that come as part and parcel of the business of one competent, responsible, adult human being exercising authority and control over another. Unless someone supports them in talking about their fears and anxieties about the "positive, healthy, kinky sexuality" of it all, it is possible to miss the boat of self-discovery and acceptance that is so essential to growth and positive self-concept that can be part of the path of learning in the BDSM arena. I don't think that most people in the Domestic Discipline arena are skilled in those realms, and I think that spending too much time with them (if you are inclined toward kink) is constraining in ways that are not healthy.


Intimate interpersonal relationships ought to be based on respect. That respect should be mutual, but it needs to begin with self-respect. To make it clear what I mean by that, I believe that part of what operates too often in the Domestic Discipline situations which I have observed is that there has not been sufficient consideration given by the partner who initiates the dynamic to her own internal needs and drives. Without some solid sense of self-awareness and self-acceptance, the person who most commonly asks for DD (usually the female partner) is unable to accept the urges and needs that drive her to start the conversation in the first place. There is an inherent lack of self-respect that undermines everything that follows. Added to that, in far too many cases, the beginnings of most DD relationships lack basic respect for the realities of the partner who gets brought into the dynamic by request or demand. In almost every case, the nominally controlling partner doesn't get the basic respect of getting to choose that role. Instead, it is usually thrust upon him, and he is simply expected to step up and know how to do it. I've rarely, if ever, seen partners enter into a conversation that asks what each one actually needs to be happy, comfortable, and fulfilled within the dynamic that is being considered. That would be respectful and it ought to be the beginning point.


What that meant for me, when it was all said and done, was that if I was going to finally realize the fact of my submissive nature and make an alliance with a man who would and could answer that need, it was not going to happen within the context of my marriage. Trying to impose that model onto the husband that I was in relationship with, without regard for his inherent nature and inclinations, was unkind, disrespectful, and ultimately unsuccessful from a relational standpoint. I was told, very early on by Jon Jacobs link here (co-author of "Different Loving" and owner of a chat room and listserve called Submissive Women Speak) that my husband was not a dominant, and that as a submissive woman, I would someday find a true Dominant man and leave my husband. It made me terribly angry, but it was prophetic for the eventual course of my life. In fact, that is exactly what happened. I did come to find a Dominant man, and I did leave my husband and form an honest BDSM relationship based on the FACT of who I was and who He was. Truthfully, I believe that many, many women attempt to impose the Domestic Discipline model on dull or uninteresting marriages in the hope that something miraculous will happen -- and that they try to do that without ever taking into account whether that model actually fits. When it doesn't, they fuss and fume and, more often than not, lay blame where it really does not belong.


So, my personal view and bias is that Domestic Discipline is the poor step-child of the BDSM family. It is what joyful, self-aware, sexy, powerful, erotic power-exchange becomes when it is forced to live on bread and water and dwell in the darkness under the emotional stairs. Allowing the truth of that sexual orientation and power balance dynamic out of the darkness and into the open requires honesty and courage and imagination. It isn't something to be undertaken lightly. It isn't a game. There are consequences. There are also rewards.


swan

THE PERFECT PADDLE DILEMMA: A Comment in Response to The Disciplined Feminist

(This is a comment to Vivian in response to a post she made on her Blog Disciplined Feminist, entitled The Perfect Paddle. I attempted to comment to her there and Blogger ate my comment. So I have expanded the comment here to a post with links to other posts we have here which I hope will be useful to Vivian and her partner and edifying for our readers……what the hell, I really enjoyed writing it anyway:)

Vivian, it is good to see a new post from you and to know you are progressing in your relationship and happiness. I was afraid this long silence might have indicated a crisis or difficulties. I’m glad to see that is not the case.

The whole issue of spankings being as you imagine them to be is a huge factor in spanking satisfaction for both Tops and Bottoms. Spankings are for most of us the culmination of fantasies: of imaginings. There is nothing as satisfying as a spanking that meets with your expectations as a bottom. As a sadistic Top I enjoy it when bottoms find that the spanking’s intensity that they actually are receiving exceeds their expectations (over achiever that I am:) I’ve had the pleasure on a few occasions of giving women who have longed for spanking for a long time their first real adult consensual spanking and love it when they look at me in growing terror after the first few spanks, with a “screwed up” incredulous face saying “No! Wait! This Hurts!” It seems that all too often the painful sensations they imagined in their fantasies didn’t actually “HURT”!

One of my great revelations when I learned to switch was that while I am not frequently that terrifically into being spanked (and lately it seems my “bottom space” has abandoned me altogether), I found that experiencing the reality of being spanked heightened the reality of my imagining of my spanking partner’s reaction to her spanking. I realized that I most got off on the reactions of my bottom partner and the experiences I imagined she is having when I am spanking her. Having had the experience firsthand I was much more able to realistically share her experience. Additionally I was able to more protectively increase the intensity of the spankings I administered as well. All in all bottoming was a synergistic experience that led me among many things, to appreciate more fully the role of imaginings in spanking satisfaction.

Now “The Perfect Paddle Dilemma.” I am intrigued by your post. We have literally hundreds of spanking implements but my all time greatest love has always been for paddles. I can relate to what your excitement must have been when you serendipitously found your new paddle, and your even greater rush as you experienced effects from it that so closely mirrored your fantasies. It is not uncommon however that the sensations created which match well our imaginings are less severe than those which we aspire to. It is sort of a spanking satisfaction paradox most bottoms deal with.

We have recently reacquainted ourselves with the “joys” of our lexan paddles. I have 5 of them in various configurations and variations. You might find that lexan paddling might be useful in creating your desired reaction.

Lexan stings more than wood although it burns somewhat less. Lexan is more dense than wood, but slightly more flexible (it is a space age plastic that is actually used as bullet proof glass….so if you ever want to try to swat at bullets as they fly by with a paddle it may have a dual use). In that it has greater mass lexan paddles are thinner. My favorite vendor of lexan paddles is Hanson Paddles. Their lexan paddles come in ¼ inch and 3/8inch thicknesses as opposed to the more standard 3/8 inch and 1/2inch thicknesses for their wooden sister paddles. While I have all mine in both thicknesses I really have found I prefer the ¼ inch thickness lexan for bare bottom spanking.

Additionally, I wonder if you are being paddled by paddles with holes. Hanson is good at offering all their paddles with or without holes drilled in them. The paddles with holes that they sell have holes with a beveled edge on one side, and holes with a sharp edge on the other. If your partner were to employ those paddles, especially using the sharp edged hole side of the paddle to spank you, it is likely you will experience greater welting, marking, blistering, etc. with the longer lasting effects that you seek.

I also wonder about paddling duration and frequency for you. I generally like to administer a hundred smacks for a good blistering, often in sets of 25 or 50 swats with minor respites in between sets. These fairly rapid fire paddlings usually will result in writhing, complaining, begging and tears from most bottoms. There are certainly times when I have done less or more depending on a variety of variables, but that is the most common scenario.

Even more effective is repetitive and predictable paddling. I have for example instituted a decree that a paddling would be administered at bedtime everyday for a week. Then swan or another bottom is required to fetch the paddle each night at bedtime, to request her nightly paddling, to be paddled and then to politely thank me for paddling her and to remind me of her next paddling tomorrow night. The emotional and physically cumulative effects of the paddling result in solid memories of the discipline and resulting intimate connections that last in terms of physical marks and emotional imprinting.

We also have had periods, some of those protracted where swan has been required to approach me each day for a period of time to request a paddling of one hundred swats with a paddle of her selection. Thus not only does she know she will be spanked severely daily, but she must decide when, select the implement of her chastisement, present it to me, beg to be spanked, get spanked, and then very politely thank me for spanking her. I know she found this regimen highly “effective.”

Perhaps something like these techniques might be useful for the two of you.

My most favored brand of corporal discipline is not paddling at all but is switching. A properly administered switching will result in the person who is disciplined feeling quite thoroughly chastised, and too, will be remembered upon sitting, moving, etc. for a good period of time to come. Here is a link to a description of switching technique I employ (the description of the actual switching technique is about halfway through the piece if you are not interested in reading my history).


Vivian, I hope perhaps some of this input is useful to you and your partner as you grow further in your disciplinary relationship.

Tom
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined.

Living with a "Real" Sadist

In a comment to the "It is Called Sadism" post, Wandering Traveler wrote:

it opens my head up a little more to learn more about real
sadism. not just sensation play, which is more my cup of tea. it makes sense to
me, now that i consider it, that a skillful and present sadist would become
adept at responding to the bottom's responses, esp. as the bottom's responses
are fundamental to the sadistic motivation. it makes me think also that a true
masochist would ride pain a different way than a person more erotically aligned
with power or sensation play, for example.

the dialog gives me pause to think about how for some
players, it's more about the physical limits, for others, mental, emotional, or
spiritual. surely these can not all be compartmentalized. i heard ...concern
more in terms of feeling safe in less physically tangible ways - the mental or
emotional or spiritual - where it is easy to assume one's interior states are
harder to expertly read. or that is where the fear is ...

mercy, talk about trusting! like finding a good therapist,
a good dentist, a good body worker, you just don't turn yourself over to any
sadist ...

Wise words.



If we are smart, reasonable, sensible, we really don't turn ourselves over to just any sadist. The connection between sadist and masochist is potentially powerfully connective and energizing for both on a variety of levels. This is not, as Wandering Traveler indicates, just a physical activity.



Sadomasochistic power exchange can touch the whole person -- physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. Too often, players on both sides of the exchange (especially when they are new and inexperienced) focus entirely on the physical aspects: how and where and when to hit or whatever. Surely such "technical" skill focus is important and a necessary part of the learning curve for those who would play safely in this arena, but there is much more to know and understand.



As the comment hints, a skilled and "present" sadist watches and attends to all of the myriad subtle and varied reactions and responses of the partner. Empathic awareness is part and parcel of the way the best sadists operate. It fuels their energy, fires their enjoyment, and informs their decision-making. Without it, they are limited to reading the physical signage that tells them that there are welts, bruises, tears, sweat, lost circulation in the extremities, etc. Those physical signs and symptoms are useful and important, but they are superficial. They give clues to the physical well-being and are not to be ignored, but can be misleading, for none of us are purely physical creatures.



I don't know the secrets that sadists share. I am not part of the club. I do know that I trust Him to know me better than I know myself sometimes. I know He watches me move and listens to me talk. He sees my skin tone and my muscles twitch and understands the state of my soul and spirit. He seeks to evoke responses that come from the depths of my being. He makes knowing that depth part of His base of understanding. It is what allows Him to elicit the reactions that He seeks from me. Whatever I might think or want or believe at any given moment, He chooses and directs the course of our lives and our play based on His own sure sense of how things are with me.



There is a very great deal written about the intimacy and intensity of lifestyle realtionships. I am sure that sometimes that becomes the reality. Often, those who dabble in BDSM play at the surface, touching only the physical realm. To come to know and reveal the inner workings of the other requires deep sensitivity and great trust. It calls for real courage and real strength. It is not a game.



swan

Goodness!

Saturday morning came swimming up slowly for us. We'd been up late on Friday night, and neither of us woke up quickly or easily. I came up out of the depths first and He slept deeply there beside me. I snuggled into His warmth and the safety of His body and wanted a spanking...

A real spanking. Not something light. Not something sexy. Not the sort of thing that He has been trying to do lately that I know is calculated to try and bring me along and "help me get there," whatever that might mean. I was simply hungry and needing the connection that only a real session can bring to us if I can get through it (if He will take me through it) without breaking.

It is not a usual thing anymore. Not common for me to be the one who wants. Not me who curls into Him and whimpers in longing. And... when the longing is on me, I am reluctant to give it voice. It is so rare and so fragile, and so often I fall off the cliff of what could be as opposed to what is.

But, He heard the whimpers and asked "what? Do you want a spanking?"When Master asks that question, it WILL be answered and truthfully. I told Him that yes I did but that I was uncertain that He was feeling well this particular morning. He assured me that He could get to feeling just fine. Over the pillows I went, breathless with anticipation and longing and only a small tinge of fear.

I'm not sure of the details of the spanking. Which thing came first? Which next? Strap? Cane? How many? How long? Doesn't matter -- those are His concerns. I was there. Not struggling particularly. Hurting, surely, but going into it and with it rather than against it. And then, the drop into the place that I think must be my version of subspace... It is, for me, like the first big drop on a giant roller-coaster: everything that comes before it is uphill and an effort, and then (if it happens) I feel myself crest the top and fall into whatever is on the other side and take flight. I've never found a "trick" that gets me there. It is, when it happens, joy and gift and wonder. I can "see" it coming just before it happens, but have no idea how to make it happen. Oh well...

"Space" for me gives Him greater leeway to go where He wants to go. I'll take almost anything once I'm in flight. My mind will chatter some, but slowly, and my body will just work it all. When He went for the lexan paddle, I heard it and felt myself hoping He wouldn't drag me out of the place where I was, but I was there and just going with it all. So -- paddling. Lexan. And it was fine. And then... it was more than fine. I was riding the waves, wondering at what was happening to me when a huge wave caught me and crashed through me. Not a wave of pain but a wave of sexual energy that caught me from out of the blue and drove me into a wild and wailing orgasm. Suddenly, I was being paddled and the power of the sexual fireworks were sweeping through me; flooding from between my legs as I wailed and moaned and panted.

Goodness!

swan

Confidentiality?

OH MY GOSH!

The previous post stepped on toes over at the listserve, and now some of those folks have gotten themselves in a tizzy because they have rules about cross posting or forwarding material from the list to anyone who is not on the list... After all, the things that people write on the list are to remain "confidential."

Now. Just for the record. What was put up in the previous post was carefully edited so as to not identify anyone by name or "out" anyone. With that said, let's be clear -- there is no way that discourse in an Internet forum like an e-mail list ought to be considered to be confidential. That expectation is simply silly. It is like sitting in the middle of a crowded bar or restaurant and discussing your sex life at the top of your lungs. Creating or promulgating an expectation of privacy or confidentiality under those circumstances is foolish and fraudulent. It is a promise that cannot be reasonably made or enforced. After all, people talk with one another. People walk away from their computers and leave their screens up. People capture bits and pieces and forward them to other people. People save things in their files. All sorts of searches and sifters gather up information and funnel it here and there as fast as it appears in cyberspace. The harsh reality is that if you want something to remain confidential, you need to not put it into words on your computer screen and publish it.

A cursory search turns up simple language about internet list usage and the expectations for privacy and confidentiality within institutions and organizations like universities. One such advisory reads like this:

As Listserv Lists become more pervasive as a means of communication while
performing our daily tasks, it is important to remember that E-mail should never
be viewed as a 100% reliable and confidential means of immediate
communication.

Confidentiality -- Issues of confidentiality refer both to the sender as well as the recipient of E-mail and are influenced by the sender's habits (printing confidential mail and leaving it around), the integrity of the networks used to deliver mail and the recipient's habits
(leaving confidential mail up on their screen for others to view), none of which
should be assumed to be perfect and without flaw.

Perhaps the consternation that the folks on the listserve are experiencing over this whole business points to yet more lack of general experience. Perhaps they are crediting this poor little weblog with far more wide-reaching readership than it in fact enjoys. Perhaps they are suffering from the adolescent conceit that convinces the average 14-year-old that everyone in the world is looking directly at them at every moment. Whatever it is that goes on with these folks, their absolute insistence on controlling every aspect of their world and insisting that everyone play according to the arbitrary "rules" that they set up is really quite interesting.

Around here, there's only one person who gets to insist on that level of control... And, for the record, pretty much anything that happens in our lives and with the people that we come in contact with is fair game for this place... If what happens to us and around us gives us reason to contemplate and think about our lives and our world, expect it to show up here.

swan