Posts from the ‘Dark and Dangerous’ Category

What is Important

My life does not point towards the business end of things.  Even in creative endeavors, that part of it has always been difficult for me.  But I have often found great personal wisdom from Seth Godin.  Case in point, today’s was about the difference between speaking, and speaking up.

I have chosen, in this blog, to express my feelings, views and opinions about what is euphemistically called “The Lifestyle”, how it is expressed and how it is lived by myself and those that I am able to observe around me.  Hopefully I have not just been speaking.  The blog this morning has prompted me to look at what I feel is important within all of that.

I live in a contradiction.  I enjoy the application of severe and painful sensation to other people while not desiring it for myself.  I get sexually excited by forcing that sensation on women, expect them to get sexually excited from receiving it, and expect them to accept that with little complaint.   I desire bonded relationships with multiple women and do not feel it necessary to give them the same right.  I believe it appropriate to cause emotional stress, apprehension, fear, insecurity and difficult challenges to my partners while expecting them to support, please and serve me.

This paints a picture of a severely inappropriate person (to put it very kindly) who should definitely be avoided.  Yet this is what I feel is important.

It is important to be clear, direct, honest and forthright with any partner or prospect as to what I want and what kind of activity I enjoy.

It is important for me to talk with, discuss, and explore the feelings of any partner or prospect and be totally assured that they want the kind of relationship I desire.  This includes questioning them and myself to be assured that this desire comes from a place of health and self assurance and not from a need to act out a deeper trauma.

It is important to continually examine and re-examine my own feelings and desires and communicate to my partner any changes.  It is important to continually question, discuss, and explore my partner’s feelings about what it is they want in our relationship.

It is important that no matter what extreme of disparity in roles, behavior or expectations we have developed and discussed in our relationships that all people within those relationships are held to be of equal value and respect.

It is important to work towards personal growth in myself and assist in the growth of my partners moving towards a goal of physical, mental and spiritual health in each of us and in our relationship.

And it is overwhelmingly important for me and my partners to work towards a life of passionate joy and to do whatever we can to pass that feeling on to those around us.

Be who you are.  Be honest about it.  Help the others in your life to be who they are.

The Eroticist

BonB, That Night, The Morning, and a Parting Gift

What happened that night, which included minimal amounts of sleep, was extremely significant and extraordinarily subtle.  So much so that it will be difficult to describe.  But the importance to communication, understanding, and Dominant and submissive relationships in general can not be overstated.

You must understand that the vast amount of our time was spent in conversation.  Talking with this woman was a true delight.  It would be difficult and unnecessary for the purpose of this post to encompass the range of subjects discussed, but suffice it to say that it touched on each of our histories, philosophy, relationships, desires, identification, foods, behaviors, to name just a few.  As I have said before. communication is a necessity.

One of the most important subjects discussed was her experience and desires regarding sex.  I had mentioned before, her limit that there would be no penile penetration below the waist.  That was clear and I understood and certainly would honor that.  (BTW, if anyone has any questions as to why and whether or not they should honor such a request, I refer you to the local constabulary and recommend therapy.)  But we were now on a pile of pillows, sans clothing, and freely touching a vast variety of bodily surfaces.  I am sure you realize that at times, for any accomplished Dominant, moving a woman in the direction of acquiescence before distinct negotiation and a positive “Yes” is something we can and have certainly attempted.  (We are manipulators, after all.)

Let me clearly state that this movement is shortsighted in the extreme.  It inevitably will result in a feeling of being used without permission and the realization that limits were disrespected or ignored.  In other words, considering a woman with whom you wish to have a repeat engagement (and if you have someone in bed who you do not wish to have there again, I would question your taste), it is far better to forgo the immediate for the repeatable over the long term.

BonB had stated that vaginal and anal sex had a significant emotional weight for her and that they deserved a high degree of respect and choice.  In that light, let me speak about choice.  I am sure most people reading this are familiar with the admonition, “No means NO”, meaning if a woman, or anyone for that matter, says no to any form of proposal, it means definitely no and that should be respected.  It does not immediately mean, “No, but I am willing to stand here listening to your lame reasons why I should have said yes, cause really like every woman, I really do want you, but I have just enough self respect to make you work for it.”  No, Gentlemen, no does mean no, and that should be honored.

But is it enough?  I respectfully say, no, it ain’t.  Particularly in the activities in which we engage, where dangerous behavior is often included and where mental states frequently change.  I do believe that every man has experienced moments with women who do not understand the importance of communication where “No” meant “No, but I really want you to try anyway, so I can get what I want and not have the responsibility.  In other words, force me.”  So, my active preference is that I want to hear, “Yes, means Yes” and that means in a wide awake moment of clarity, particular activities are stated and a clear request for those activities are unmistakably voiced, particularly if it is of the form, “Yes, I want you to force me.”

OK, why did I go on with that.  Well, it has to do a lot with the happenings of that evening.  We talked for a long time about her wish to refrain from penetrative sex below the waist, at least with things other than toys and my fingers.  But here we were, both naked together and going up and down on that smooth roller coaster of sexual stimulation.  We also talked about my feelings on “No” and “Yes” and my concern over issues where she may feel that I am stimulating her to the point of forcing a “Yes.”  Then in the conversation, the term “Test” came up.  Now that was interesting.  What did she mean by “Test”?

So again, communication being paramount, I asked her a lot about that term and what she meant by it.  She said that since I had previously stated that I wanted any sexual activity to be her choice, she wanted to make sure, and find out what kind of a man I was by possibly testing me to see if I would hold to that statement, no matter how excited I might become.  Now I am sure most men reading this have been in that situation, and know well what it is like to fail the test.

Let me tell you now, as they say in War Games, in that game “The only winning move is not to play.”  So I informed the sweet and highly sexual young lady that I would not play the game, and the choice was no longer hers.  There would be no more sexual activity between us.  I told her that I was not chastising her, I was not punishing her, I just didn’t want to play that game and have her, the next morning, even have the option of saying I had stimulated her to the point of saying “Yes” when she really did not wish to.  So, I would not stimulate her, nor would I allow her to stimulate me.  Game over.

Her next statement was extremely telling and in hindsight showed me if I saw it at the time, what our relationship was to become.  She said, after a very long pause, “Wow, I’m really fucked, or not fucked, as the case may be.”  Yep, that she was.  But in that moment, she told me clearly what she wanted, desired and needed.  She wanted to be forced.  I just had to find a way to show her the necessity of saying “Yes.”  And it was she who gave me the path.  The moment was sublime.

She had stated a need to hit the bathroom and I had turned on my side hoping to get some sleep as it was now very early in the morning and we had little time before I had to rise, pack and be off.  When she returned, I expected her to lie close to me and cuddle, a warm expression of affection that definitely brings a smile to my face but also acknowledges that the night was over.  I was surprised that she sat next to me and actually straddled me with her arms, one on each side, sitting up and staring down into my face.

OK, then.  Now what?  I was happy and pleased with our time together and was certainly willing to make a night (or morning) of it.  But for her, there was still something to accomplish.  I just didn’t know, yet, what it was.  I am reminded of the phrase from Arthur Conan Doyle, “The Game is afoot.”  Though literally that means that the hunted target is moving and the hunt is on.  To me it always meant, “It is time to play” and that it was.

Now our discussion above was about sex and even though control and sadomasochistic pain play is very sexual to me, it did not necessarily involve the common definitions of sexual activity.  While there is stimulation, it is not necessarily directly aimed at the generative organs.  I knew that I had never said that I did not enjoy the game, nor would refrain from touching her at all, nor, and most particularly, did not state I wished to release control.  She wanted to test me?  OK, let us see how she took to the positions being reversed.

I began this blog saying this was a very subtle dance, and I mean that very strongly.  In describing what took place, it may sound very much as it was preconceived and planned with a particular goal in mind.  It was not.  There were things I wanted to say and communicate to her, but they were primarily that I greatly enjoyed her company, loved being close to her, still desired her, respected her limits, and did not feel rejected in any way.  Beyond that, it was entirely moment to moment and I had no expectations of going further or forcing the crossing of any stated limit, mine or hers.

The way I chose to show her was to caress her cheek and move my hand slowly into her hair, taking a tight hold, and just hold her gaze.  There was much there, and I brought her head down to my lips for an strong but loving kiss.  She stayed in her hovering like position as I released her hair and took hold of her nipples.  I quite firmly used them to bring her down for another kiss, then sit her up again, then down two more times.  Watching her response, all I wanted to do was to return the tease and turn the tables.  I took her again, quite firmly by the hair and forced her head down to my neck and chest.  My plan was to move her head over my chest and hint  at forcing her down lower, to show her that I could play at the limits, but not cross them.  Here you must remember the position of her hands, both placed on the floor one on each side of my body, at the height of my waist.  This is important, for as I moved her head around my chest and pushed it down to cross my belly, she did the most significant thing of the evening.  It was subtle, just the hint of a movement.  But she moved her left hand so as to give me room to push her head further down.

WHAM!  Suddenly everything was clear to me and I all I had to do was call her on it.  I stopped immediately and asked, “What was that?”

“What?” and I tell you honestly from discussions following, she had no idea what had just happened.

That, moving your hand!  What is the damn game here?  You want it.  You want me to force you.  I force you, you claim NO responsibility and I have failed your little test.  Well FUCK THAT!  If you want it, then you tell me you want it and tell me clearly.”  And I waited.

After many breaths and a long, very significant pause, holding my eyes constantly, she said with a long sigh, “Yes, I want you to force me.”

Clarity, so much better, communication, honest acceptance and mutual responsibility.  It does not matter the actions we do.  Rape play, violent verbal and physical confrontations, behavior that leaves anything from bruises to burns to scars and permanent markings, the actions do not matter, it is the consent, the communication, the  taking of mutual responsibility, understanding and respect that confirms and sustains a relationship.  The things we do can come from incredibly dark places, but if they are done with the understanding of the humanity and value of our partners and with an acceptance of our own and our partners desires, no matter how dark, they are affirming and nourishing to our humanity, caring love and bonded relationships.

Before I go on to a most joyous and magical moment at our last contact, I want to state that there was further conversation and the limits of no penile penetrative actions below the waist have continued to be respected limits to this day.  But to explain the magic of this woman I have to tell you of our last moment.

After far too little sleep, I packed, we left notes for OWS, and headed out on the drive to Midway Airport.  We arrived a bit early and sat in the car for a half hour or so.  The conversation was light and humorous, but had its moments of eroticism, and as she was dropping me off, she commented on the excited state she was in.  Well, that made me smile, but at the curbside of the airport, there was not much I could do.  So, out, got luggage, kissed, and stepped up to the check in.

I was there for a bit when suddenly someone grabbed my arm.  Totally unexpected, it was a woman, then I realized it was BonB, then I realized, as she was running back to the car, that my arm was now totally wet.  Then I realized why it was wet.  She had painted my arm…with her.  What an incredibly magical parting gift.  Clearly and unequivocally stating how excited she was by being with me.  Now that is a high complement, and it still brings a huge smile to my face and a warm feeling in my heart.

I should probably end by saying she is arriving in Santa Barbara next week for a 10 day stay with a fully negotiated agenda of extreme sadomasochistic play, possibly a strong day of being sexually “Forced”, service, submission, and joy as my precious little girl, kneeling on the floor beside me and addressing me as, “My Lord.”  Beyond the invitation to visit, these were all her requests, things she actively desired and to which she said an enthusiastic YES.

It is truly amazing what you can hear from people if you watch carefully, listen intently, and respect their choices.

But I will actually end by saying she is to move to Poland in September of this year on a deeply significant and spiritual journey, and while we may have wishes, we have no expectation of ever seeing each other again.  Magic presents itself to us just so.  It is for us to see it, and accept it when it comes.  And most importantly, let it go when it must leave.

The Eroticist

Chicago

I am just back from a truly glorious twelve days in Chicago.  The trip was basically for two reasons, as many of you know.  The first, for Exxxotica, three long days midst masses of eye candy, quality presenters, and vast quantities of willing participants.  The second to visit, reconnect and share with relatives, old friends and quality people from my life in that delightful city and the suburbs thereof.

All of this is far more than I care to delineate in this single post, so I send you all a teaser.  The events of this trip were enjoyable to the extreme and has potential to be far more, but all of that will come out in following posts.  At this time, let me say that Exxxotica included an overwhelmingly delightful, but quite small cage, which many of the presenters STILL remember, a well used spanking bench, a significantly observed demo, a brown hardwood paddle, and marks upon marks.

The visits to friends included overwhelming generosity, a vast amount of Brazilian music and stories, deep sharing between friends, good food, phenomenally beautiful lightning storms, foot baths, conversations in multiple languages, visiting bugs, and a new friend about which I can speak for days and still not touch the joy and possibilities.

The Cage

One of the quality pieces of “furniture” supplied to Mistress C’s excellent Dungeon at Exxxotica this year was an Iron Cage.  A description is in order before you can truly visualize its significance in the following scene.  It was free standing consisting of square tubular metal bars on five sides, the final side constructed of three barred doors, each about one third the total height.  But to understand the joy of the following event, you must understand that it was only two foot square top to bottom.  This is not particularly constricting for one person, and it was quite fun to put a lovely lady in the cage, handcuff her hands through the top bars, and then tip the cage over a bit.  It usually presented a rather wide eyed expression for the resident.

I believe it was Friday when I had a conversation with a beautiful young lady in, if I remember correctly, a rather tight dark dress.  We discussed many things, the responsibilities of a submissive, those of a Dominant, and the purpose of requesting to cum.  She was in the cage through most of the conversation and I was outside.  It should be noted at this time that I was also demonstrating the use of a Brookstone pressure vibrator.  This is one that turned on when you pressed it firmly into, at this moment, different parts of her body.  I think this was why we were discussing the purpose of requesting to cum.  (I do hope she remembers the point I made.)

Anyway, while this conversation was going on, I noticed another quite attractive young lady who seemed either particularly interested in our conversation, or rather taken by my demonstrated use of the Brookstone device.  Either way, after asking the current resident, I suggested that the observing young lady might like to join in the demonstration.  She did.  I then informed her that of the three doors available for her to enter the cage, there was only the bottom one that was unlocked, so she would have to get down on her knees and arrange to stand, in that increasingly limited space, next to the current resident.  All parties seemed to express happy anticipation and watching her accomplish that delightful task seemed to be very pleasing to the growing audience.

Well, the conversation and demonstration of the Brookstone device continued.

The whole event got kicked up a notch when a quite beautiful young lady in the audience commented quite loudly on how pleasant it all seemed.  Well, what was I to do?  But after checking with the current two residents of the cage, we all agreed that it would be most enjoyable to have her join them as well.  You should know at this point that this was a truly lovely woman, a few inches taller than either of the current residents and built appropriately.  But she was a very able participant, and watching her crawl through the lower door and work her way up to standing in that cage, making a population of three in a barred in area two foot by two foot, was a sight worthy of loud appreciation.

As far as my personal joy, I think the high point was when I was demonstrating the use of the Brookstone device as it might assist in well…..possibly a breast exam, and had the inestimable pleasure of inserting my hand and forearm quite far into the rather limited area between six (yes, count ’em) six quite lovely breasts.

The entire moment was capped by the first sweet lady looking at me rather plaintively and saying that she had to go, and my realization that she was, at that point, opposite the door.  Again, what was I to do, but with a mixture of sorrow and joy, allow her to exit, as she could, between the other two ladies (now, I am sure, quite close friends), and crawl out the bottom door.  I am sure this all would have been much easier if I had had the keys to the other two doors.  But I didn’t.  What was I to do?

Well, this was one of the obvious high points of the first Friday.  There is more to come, but that will be told in further posts.  Shamefully, I have to admit that there is no way you could enjoy this as much as I did.

The Eroticist

She Isn’t Kidding

What do you do when someone you have known and loved for many many years suddenly tells you she wants you to hurt her?  She wants you to be rough with her.  She wants to be spanked, to be bit, to be slapped, to get marks from you, marks that last.  First, read this.

You have to understand that she is telling you this because she trusts you.  Most likely, if your relationship has been going on for a long time, she has kept this hidden for an even longer time.  She is telling you this because she knows you, and trusts that you can do this out of love and with no intent to harm her, just with an intent to hurt her.

It is the first hurdle that a caring sadistic Dominant must clear.  How do I hurt someone I love?  Let me tell you, she would not be telling you this if it was not a very powerful need within her.  People do not ask to be hurt, ask for pain, for extreme sensation unless they truly want it.  If you DO love her, you must find a way to show her you care enough to give her what she needs.

This was overwhelmingly difficult for her.  She hid this for a lot of very good reasons.  She feared others opinions of her.  She knew that this was “wrong.”  Wanting this made her “perverted”, “twisted”, something to be laughed at, shunned.  If she ever told anyone before, she was probably told she was “sick” and ostracized.  But now, out of trust, she has told you because the need is still there.  So, what are you going to do?  Will you be like the rest and tell her how “wrong” this is?  OK, say good bye now.  Or are you going to Man Up and show her that you can deal with her deep internal needs?  What does loving her mean to you?

If you are a good and caring man you now have to figure out what it means to be “rough” with your lover.  So let me tell you right off that no matter how many times we, as men, are told that violence comes from a place of  aggression and anger, of being “Tough.”  This is not what she wants and not what you should give.  This violence comes from a place of care, love, and concern for your partner, a place of high sexual passion.  This is not coming from a reaction of yours, it is coming from satisfying a need of someone you love, and you have to learn to be sensitive to her cues.

Out in public, perhaps take her hand, and just place your teeth on her arm.  Take hold.  Bite slowly, you will feel when the flesh stops compressing.  Just hold there.  Look at her.  Hold her eyes.  See the gratitude, the excitement, the sexual heat you are creating.  This is foreplay.  Then after you both feel comfortable, try a touch more.

This is to build passion.  Use it that way.  Play.  If she wants to be spanked, sit proud in your chair and point to your lap.  She will know.  It is a fine feeling to have a woman willingly lay herself over your knees, wanting you.  For that is what is happening.  She is saying in the clearest possibly way that she wants what you can give her.  She is giving you her body.  Take it.  Watch her, listen to her breathing, read her body, feel the pain go through her body as you satisfy her.  Go ahead, ask, “Did you like that?”  She will tell you.  “If you did, then say you should say, ‘Thank you.'”  Or perhaps, “Thank you, Sir.”

Pain is a sexual thing.  So make it so.  Talk about what she wants.  Always watch her.  Give her the sexual pain she wants.  Slap her between the legs.  Twist her nipples.  Bite in the most sensitive places.  But always stay connected.  Do not fear giving her pain, but listen to her passion.  You will, I promise you, feel the rewards.  You are doing this because she wants it.  You are doing this because you care for her and want to give her pleasure.  Yes, pleasure.  You may not wish to change places with her.  She may not wish to change places with you.  But this, this sharing of deep desires, will carry you far.

As you learn to read her, watch as her passion grows.  Yes, include all those lovely intrusive sexual acts, but mingle it with pain.  Tell her she may only cum when you allow it, and as you see her holding it back, give her a hard slap and say, “NOW!” and watch that lovely cascade you have caused.  Keep watching, and as she comes back into the world, see the appreciation.  You have given her what, in many cases, she has never received before.  Passionate acceptance.

Eventually, the next day, you will see marks, scratches, bruises, marks of teeth.  Talk about it.  Tell her how you feel.  Let her tell you what they make her feel.  I would suspect her reaction will surprise you.  They will be feelings of pleasure, reminders of passion.  These are not bruises from angry fights, they are short lived reminders that you love her enough to make a statement, that there is passion between you.

Accept her appreciation.  This may be very new to both of you.  So talk about it, often, and at length.  Begin to tell her what it does to you to satisfy this need of hers.  Talk about what all of this means to you.  Find out what it means to her.  Talk.  Communicate.  You may feel concerned that you are doing something wrong.  But that is your social training.  Do you love her?  Do you want to please her?  You are beginning to share with your loved one areas of yourselves that are desperately important and will bond you together on a level you may have never touched before.  It is a good place.

The Eroticist

I want to be NORMAL

With every fiber of my being, I wanted to be normal.  I wanted to be accepted.  I wanted to be OK.  I wanted people to look at me and know me and smile and wave and think, there goes a good guy.  I wanted to live a life that is acceptable by the general society.  I had these thoughts and things I wanted.  But it wasn’t normal, and I knew what normal was, it was what I was told how everyone else lived.  It was what I saw on TV.  It was what I was taught about at school, so for forty years, well over half my life, all those thoughts were put away.  No one else had them.  Only me, and I had to hide that.

I did, very well.

Until I got tired of it and I began to accept who I was.  But I am also tired of being thought a creepy old man because I talk about sex.  I am tired of feeling that I am broken, or sick because of the thoughts in my head that never leave.  I hate it when my family wants me to “Just not talk about those things” or might be embarrassed if their friends found out.  I am hurt when I loose friends when I talk about what is really important to me, and I am saddened beyond expression when I hear the whispers behind my back that I should be avoided.  All the people who keep saying “No”, “Don’t”, “Shhhh”, “No one wants to hear that” are supported by everyone it seems.  It must be true.  I want to be Normal.

But it is not me that I want to change.

I am free to speak on unacceptable subjects to people who who are interested in what I have to say.  I enjoy teaching to people who want to learn what I know.  I am willing to accept people who have different interests as long as they accept me and mine.  I do not engage in activities with people who do not actively tell me they desire and enjoy those activities.  Why am I not Normal?  Why is this not Normal?  Why is sex, any kind of sex, abnormal in this society, something to be hidden, of which to be ashamed, not for “polite” people?

This is an important Ted Talk and you should listen to it.  Let us work so more people can be normal.

The Eroticist

Sexual Outsiders and the Constriction of Shame

Charlie Glickman, one of my favorite Bloggers, has written eloquently on Shame and the distinction between the emotion of shame you feel and the action of shaming others.  The distinction is worth some work.

I come from a background of deep shaming.  It was a tool continually used by my father for many strong and complex reasons not appropriate to delineate here.  But the recovery from that destructive environment has been a life long struggle and one that I expect will not be completed.

The feeling that one is flawed, somehow irreconcilably wrong at our core can infect every aspect of our life and lead us to walk through this world as a shadow of our actual being, leading a “Lie Life”.  It becomes a base interpretation through which everything else is filtered. How many of us have difficulty accepting complements or appreciation because those that give them “don’t really know the true me.  If they did, they wouldn’t say such things.”  Each mistake confirms this view, each unbidden thought hints at the “truth” we have been told and have absorbed.

Those of us in the BDSM Lifestyle have each had our battle with being shamed.  It comes from a myriad of directions, parents, church, school, peers, jokes, lessons, literature, sermons, and all those looks that say, “Come on, you don’t really mean THAT.”

Last week I read this.

“Dear Dr. Ortmann,

It’s taken me three weeks to write this e-mail and another week to get up the guts to send it.

I guess I need your help.

I have thoughts and ideas I don’t understand.  I can’t say they’ve come out of nowhere.  I guess they’ve always been there—kind of lurking in the background, but I was always able to keep them there and just be a normal kind of guy.  I’m straight, but I guess what’s happening is like what my gay buddies talk about—you know the desires are there, you know deep down who and what you are, but the shame is so great that you go about living a normal life, a Lie Life, and things seem just fine—most of the time.  But you get these momentary flashes of deep desire, like nothing else—that make you feel the bottom has dropped out of your stomach.  Then your heart is racing, your mouth is dry, and you feel like you did right before you had your first orgasm.  The world feels scary, dark, exciting, and I feel like I’m a confused eleven-year-old all over again except more so because I’m thirty-two.

I’ve been normal, maybe have tried so hard to be normal, but I see things sometimes that reminds me of what I really want—what really turns me on—and that stomach-dropping thing happens again.  Then I know it’s all as real as I am—because I’m so scared of it.

The sexual fantasies I have aren’t normal, but I can’t bring myself to write them down (I’ve been trying for those three weeks I mentioned above).  I can only say that they disturb me so deeply, I can’t imagine what my girlfriends, family, or friends would say if they knew.  It’s worse than being gay.  Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay.  That’s not what I mean.  I guess what I mean is that it feels worse than any coming-out process my gay friends have ever talked about.  At least they had other gay friends.  I’m alone.

I feel completely outside.  I feel it wherever I go and the loneliness and alienations infect my heart, my work, my body, and my relationships.  It’s overwhelming and if I can’t talk about it soon I feel like my own shame and isolation will kill me.  I think I’m sick and need to be—in some way—cured so I can live a more normal life, whatever that means.

I need to change, to be more normal, whatever that is, thought I admit to you that I have little or no confidence that I can do this.  I’ve been like this since I was just a little boy.  I’ve never been abused—physically or sexually.  I got good grades, I played baseball and ran track.  I even sang in my church choir.  Outwardly, my life was happy but even at that age I suffered from secrets that I couldn’t share and that stayed inside of me for years.  Now they won’t leave me in peace.  If I talk about them maybe they’ll go away.  If I don’t talk about them, I’m afraid I will go away.  I’m not afraid to die anymore.

I’m a pervert and my thoughts are bad.  I was raised Catholic and even though I don’t practice anymore I am convinced I am going to hell.  Maybe I’m already in it.  Sure feels like it….”

This is the forward to my newest read, Sexual Outsiders* by David M. Ortmann and Richard A. Sprott.

In reading this, through my own tears, I wanted to take this man in my arms and hold him.  His pain was very real to me.

Fear and shame will hide the expression of your truer self.  It is difficult enough to deal with the comments, rejection and condemnation of people around you when you have come to accept and acknowledge your truer self, but when your life and upbringing has led you to internalize that rejection and condemnation within, it can lead to  devastation and self damnation, the toxic Lie Life.

We are living in a time when sexual practices and expressions of BDSM seem to be more accepted and common.  We see images in advertisements and media.  There are on line social communities aimed at the identified sexually perverse.  BDSM role-playing seems to be a common social expression.  But there is a difference, isn’t there, from the role playing, the bedroom play, the sexy costumes, and the beautiful people you see in the media and porn all in their expensive leathers and toys, and the acceptance of the fact that you do not wish to “Play it” you want to “Be it”.  It is part of who you are.  It is something that you need to be truly fulfilled.

To take that step.  To move through the shame into a place where you can accept that you are not damaged, you are not flawed and wrong, and most importantly, you are not damaged nor are you here to damage others.  To be who you are, in a place of loving acceptance, is also work that is never completed.  But it is worth the work.

The Eroticist

*I link to Amazon because it is easy for me, not because I necessarily recommend using that service, though I use it.  “Sexual Outsiders” is available through many different book sellers.

Abuse Causes SadoMasochism?

All through my exploration of the BDSM lifestyle, my Dominance, and my sexual Sadism, I have heard well reasoned reports, some from well respected scientific journals, about the causal association between early physical and sexual abuse and a later interest in Sadomasochism.  Everyone around me, until I found a community, confirmed that Sadomasochistic behavior was so twisted and destructively perverse that it must have come from some traumatic event, for it could not be a desire born naturally into anyone other than a psychopath.

In discussion groups held through BDSM communities to which I began to belong I heard an inordinately large number of reports of early abusive relationships and met people who talked painfully of going from one abusive relationship to another before finding a BDSM community where they were able to experience their desires and needs in a safe and caring relationship. The message was so clear that I began to search through my memories to try to find instances of abuse in my early life which might have caused my interest and enjoyment in sexual Sadism.

Well, as anyone who has looked into the Salem Witch Trials can tell you, if you are convinced that something is there, you will tend to find it, and I did.  But the memories seemed so tenuous and questionable that I felt very uncomfortable accepting them. Then I saw a study that seemed to say that there is little difference between those who identify with interest in the BDSM lifestyle and those in the general population, not only in general socioeconomic criteria but in history of abuse.  While I would love to see further study, this did not explain to me the high number of reports I heard among people in my local communities of early abuse.

Before I continue, I would like to state, with homage to Robert Young, that I am not a therapeutic professional, though I have played one one TV.  What happened was that I began to question the assumptions of the early messages I heard stating that any interest in Sadomasochism must have come from abuse for it could not be a naturally occurring interest.  I began to wonder what would it mean if these desires, on either side of the relationship, were naturally occurring interests, and what would happen to someone who had those interests but were raised in a society where the interests and desires were so unacceptable that they could not be explored nor even acknowledged?

Well, I suggest that each person would be naturally drawn to someone of the opposite inclination, sadist to masochist, masochist to sadist.  I further suggest that if that coupling occurs between people who have strong desires in their (dare I say) God given direction, but with no training in how to experience them safely, adding to that an environment of shame and possible self condemnation, that combination could make for a volatile and possibly abusive relationship.

[I feel I must say at this point that abuse does occur, both inside and outside of sadomasochistic relationships.  I am not trying to redefine it, explain it nor excuse it.  No matter what the cause, abuse is inexcusable and should be something that requires immediate therapeutic care.]

Does this explain the number of stories I have heard, the tales of coming from an abusive background?  Not necessarily.  As I say, I am not a therapeutic professional, nor a sociological statistician.  But it does answer some questions for me and so, until something better comes along, I will tend to go with it.

I do believe that you can be a born sadist or a born masochist.  But I also believe that in the complex world of human sexuality and interpersonal relationships, no matter what your inclination, SM or not, it is wise to get a great deal of competent sexual education, something unfortunately very difficult to find in this society.  I also believe that it is possible to have a deeply sadomasochistic relationship that is at the same time joyous, fun, affirming, healthy, and physically safe and enjoyable.  You just have to learn how to do it.  What I do not believe is that SM is inherently abusive.  So, as Sergeant Phil Esterhause used to say, “Hey, let’s be careful out there.”

The Eroticist

There is an excellent post by one of my favorite bloggers, Clarisse Thorn which seems to fit here.  She is truly so much better a writer that I.