As with Samantha, Karen is a pseudonym.
Soon after my former slave left, I met Karen. A delightful 40-something woman, Karen and I hit it off right away; we attended a few munches together, went to play parties and played privately. For a few reasons I won’t go into right now, I kept my distance from getting too involved with Karen. However, I’ve tried to help give her advice and guide her (albeit a little firm-handedly) through her journey.
Recently, Karen found herself talking and playing with a new Dominant. She expressed concerns that he wasn’t mean enough, that there wasn’t enough chemistry. Yesterday she broadsided me with this question:
“Do you think I need a Dominant or a Master?”
Okay Karen… What’s the difference?
As most of you know I am entering my twelfth year of being active in the scene and for the first few of those, I bottomed because I was told that was how it worked. Like many others I floundered; I bounced between being a bottom, to New Leather, to submissive, to Top, Dom, etc. Establishing an identity was very important to me. I regarded it as more than “it’s just a label”, which seems to be a common go-to response these days.
“Do you think I need a Dominant or a Master?”
Whenever people ask me this, my knee-jerk reaction is usually the same: That is not up to me, that is up to you. I want to encourage, not influence.
Especially for new people in the “lifestyle”, they’re not sure how to go about answering a question very core to who they are as an individual. More concerning then is finding out that they haven’t really asked themselves the hard questions. Self-awareness is a trait I value highly, and I encourage self-awareness in others. In order to aptly encourage Karen to discover the answer for herself, I need to ask her what she is. If she’s a slave, does she believe that she can be a slave without a Master? If she’s submissive, how does that impact her day-to-day life?
At a very high level, I believe there are three primary “submissive” archetypes in D/s.
“I’m really just in it for the play.” The bottom is all about the scene; they might be submissive in the scene, they might be just be in it because they’re a pain-pig. But when the scene is over, they thank the Top and go on their merry way.
“I submit because it turns me on.” The submissive has appetites and cravings that are their own. They submit because they enjoy it.
“If it pleases you, Master.” Separating what defines a slave versus a submissive can at times be difficult, but for the most part a slave craves Total Power Exchange, and will shift her views to align with those of her Master.
I’ll not split hairs here; this isn’t definitive and of course there is a lot of intermingling of these different archetypes person to person. An individual might identify as a submissive but have qualities common in slaves. This doesn’t cover switches or kajiras, etc. As I’ve mentioned in Who Defines Your D/s, the technical definition of D/s is more complicated than simply Dominance and submission. I can however theorize that submissive archetypes are a lot like musical genres, with one role being rooted from another.
Getting into the thick of it…
Asking the hard questions doesn’t define her. If she identifies as a slave, is that the end of it? If she’s a bottom, does that mean she can’t be a submissive in a 24/7 D/s relationship? Can she be a slave and submissive at the same time? Just because she identifies as a slave, does that automatically mean she needs a Master to be happy? Or the oft-assumed Dominant to her as a submissive?
There are no right or wrong answers; asking these questions influence the root of the answer – what she needs to be satisfied.
Instead of asking if she needs a Dominant or a Master, perhaps the question should have been “What type of relationship do I need?” It is not the role that answers the question, more the dynamic. She could be entirely satisfied with a Master/slave relationship with a man that identifies as a sadist.
Moreover, there are some that believe Master/slave relationships “don’t just happen”, that a slow and steady evolution from a Dominant and submissive relationship to Master and slave is standard. Similar to “zero to sixty” play styles, this really depends on the people. Others identify as slaves, answering the age-old question of “Can you be a slave without a Master.”
Don’t focus so much on the type of person that you need, but understand what you want from your relationships and pursue it.
And there’s the rub…
As I’ve said before, this lifestyle is a living thing; your views may shift and evolve over time, or change with your mood. Being a slave will not mean that a Master/slave relationship is the promised land, and if you identify as a submissive, you may find yourself wanting more with a Dominant.
The downside with asking yourself the hard questions is that they are a lot like Choose Your Own Adventure books. If you want to be submissive all the time, turn to page 42. If you like being a slave in the bedroom, turn to page 17.
Karen, relationships are at the end of the day between people, not roles. Establish the qualities you desire in a person and seek them out.
Samantha is an alias, and not this individual’s real name.
Samantha sent me a message on Fetlife with praise about knowing exactly what I want. As you might expect, we got to talking in depth. Quickly I discovered she was not like my usual taste of women. She’s blonde for one, and I rarely find myself attracted to blonde women. Second, we had absolutely nothing in common; movies, music, etc. Thirdly, she was fiercely private. No play parties, no munches – indeed, nothing public. That said, Samantha is a very striking woman. We got to talking about her own interests in Master/slave relationships, and the conversations turned sexual very quickly.
Now, understand that I generally like to get to know new play partners. I prefer to play very hard and I like to negotiate over time as I get to know someone rather than just before a play date. I like to learn the things they enjoy, hear some of their fantasies, and make sure they have a good idea what they’re getting into.
As to be expected, I suggested coffee after our conversations took to texting. But being fiercely private, Samantha frequently said “I love your mind”, and eventually she wanted to skip coffee and go straight to playing. She ignored my suggestions to set up a “safecall” citing that she didn’t think it was really needed. So of course, being the fear-loving dominant I am, I had fun with it, touching briefly on all the things I was going to do to her. I instructed her on how to get to my apartment, not really expecting her to show. She did.
As soon as the door opened, I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her inside, not saying a word nor allowing her to speak. The next two hours were a whirlwind of slapping, spanking, flogging and cock-sucking. The next time we played I opened the door so I’d be behind her when she walked in, and threw a bag over her head. As one can imagine despite having nothing in common, we played quite well. She came, took a beating and left. And I’ll be honest, some of the filthy things this girl said rivals many play partners I’ve had over the years. She liked to play hard, she loved breast torture, and she wanted more.
By now its evident to me that Samantha is one of those “just in the bedroom” people. She loves the idea of being a slave in my home, but not in the day to day; someone who likes the fantasy of sexual slavery and being objectified, but not the reality of it as a “lifestyle”. Ordinarily this type of person doesn’t interest me much, but seeing as it was just play, it couldn’t do much harm could it?
After Christmas, we arranged to play again. I was feeling particularly mean, and I had foregone spending time with a particularly delightful lass to play hard. Some of the things that she was saying included:
“I want to beg u to stop as u destroy me, and u just ignore my pleas”
“I want every inch of my tits marked.”
“I am coming to c u tomorrow, I need to be under u. I need u to beat me to a pulp. I need my body and holes to ache, I need to be covered in bruises and b ur fuck toy.”
When Samantha arrived, it was business as usual. As soon as the door closed she had her hair in my fist and she was dragged towards the living room, thrown on her knees to be blindfolded. She was uncharacteristically affectionate after the following cock-sucking, and when I asked how she was doing she replied “Scared”. Stripped, blindfolded, a bit in her mouth, collared and cuffed I started to cane her breasts. Her horny texts about having her breasts marked in my mind, I started easily enough but soon had her moaning and squirming. She was dropping “fuck” bombs like you wouldn’t believe through her bit gag, and after a few near-misses as her hands reached up to protect her breasts I locked her arms behind her back.
As I started to notice she was getting close to her limit, I touched her breasts gently between unlocking her restraints and removing her bit. She started to calm and still blindfolded, I cropped her tits some more. This time however her protects were quite vocal, many cries of “ow” were heard, and I could tell she was crying. Suddenly, she says “okay”. I pause. Samantha lifts her blindfold up and says “My tits can’t take any more.”
After giving her some time to steady her breathing, I grab her by the hair and throw her over the couch. “Down,” I tell her. “Get that ass in the air.” She obliges. I grab my favorite crop, and listen to her delightful moans as I trace her ass with my crop. I hit her ass once to warm up. “Okay, I’m done.” She removes her leather herself, gets dressed rapidly and leaves, saying “Thanks” on her way out the door.
My mood took a nose dive quickly. I sat on the couch, toys everywhere and my cock still hard from hurting her replaying the time in my head. I was frustrated since we hadn’t played harder than previously, and she’s always been fond of breast torture. Moreover, she didn’t say “Yellow”. No safe words, red or even stop or no. Just “I’m done” and left. Even though I recognized the signs of Top Drop quickly, I kept on thinking that I had done something wrong.
I’ve written about Top Drop before, however this was quite different. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had a scene end badly, but this was the first time someone had left so abruptly. We had negotiated heavily, and discussed wanting to push her limits.
I am still reeling from a profound sense of self-doubt.
What does one do when a scene is discussed and desired by both parties, but doesn’t go as planned? Reflecting over it the past couple days, I’d done everything right. In short it ended because she’d told me she wanted one thing and responded poorly to it when it actually happened. Some people like the fantasy of being a slave, or fiercely masochistic just as much as Dominants like the fantasy of owning a slave or hurting women. Some are equipped for it, where others demonstrate they are ill-suited.
We negotiate with new play partners to protect them and ourselves from harm. As I’ve recently discovered, negotiation does not mean that a bad scene won’t happen. Just as there are bad dominants, submissives can be bad apples as well. Not terribly profound or new a realization, but I will be more selective about those that I play with henceforth.
Been quiet here at the blog over the past six months or so. A good catalyst for this silence was the relationship ending with my former slave. Those that follow me on Twitter have a pretty good idea how that happened, so I’ll not go into details.
At the coaxing of an influential girl I know however, I’ve found myself with things to say again.
I’ve been blogging longer than I’ve been “kinky” – indeed, before there was a shortened term for “weblog”. I built my first website when I was 14, and was active on Livejournal for years. A lesson I’ve learned over my time blogging is this: Don’t write for an audience. Write for yourself.
2012 was a year of resolutions, ups and downs, heartache and renewed fervor. I turned 30 years old. Some friendships ended and others were forged. I got a renewed interest in building my toy collection, started going to play parties again and found a few new play partners. However, the city I reside in frequently leaves me with a foul taste in my mouth. I moved here with my former slave and although I’ve made several friends, I want more.
So instead of making grand resolutions, this year I have only three goals:
- Move to Toronto, Ontario.
Something already planned and will be accomplished next month!
- Renew my interest in blogging.
Hence the new domain, and theme.
- Continue writing my book.
A project I’m quite enjoying!
One chapter ends… Another begins. Look out 2013!
Its my last day at the office today. As of tomorrow, squeaks and I will be in a chaotic maelstrom of packing, last minute cleaning, and apartment repairs. Saturday its saying farewell to Calgary, loading up the U-haul and looking at YYC in the rear view mirror.
My emotions are… mixed.
I first started to call Calgary home seventeen years ago. Since then, I have moved to other cities (Toronto, Vancouver, et cetera) but there’s something that always brought me back. Calgary can be a cultural desert, but it has also been home for over half my lifetime.
Edmonton may be a mere three hours from Calgary, but I know this time I will not be returning.
I like consistency and continuity, and I do not enjoy change. Soon I will find myself in a strange city. My favorite restaurants won’t be there, I won’t know as many people (thankfully however I have a few to soften the blow), and I’ll be working from home. I have to admit it is somewhat petty but another negative is that no one asked me not to leave, or even expressed disappointment at me going.
But, there is silver lining. It is time.
Time for new favorites. New sushi restaurants for squeaks to oogle waifish boys, new munches and new friends. New women and renewed pursuit of the things that interest me.
So, in conclusion all I have to say is this.
So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish
When most people hear this word they conjure a very specific mental image ranging from one extreme to the other. Indeed, I don’t think I’d be that far off to think that at most of the world regards the target of derogatory terms like “slut” to be indicative of someone that can feed maggots from her crotch.
Some take pride in their “slutdom” or use it in an empowering way. In April 2011 in Toronto, Ontario Constable Michael Sanguinetti suggested that to remain safe, “women should avoid dressing like sluts.” He later recanted his statement but the damage was done and the Slut Walk was born.
However in BDSM most of the times slut refers to a positive negative. Being a cock-sucking tramp is a staple of the bedroom. Pushing her face into the floor and calling her a cum-dumpster goes with the territory. I cannot begin to count the times a simple phrase like “Fuck me like a whore” has spurred an onslaught of hate-fucking.
Outside the bedroom though being a 24/7 “lifestyler” (and I use the term loosely), the term slut is one of endearment. I adore sexually charged women and men alike, and calling her a filthy slut is just as likely as using pet names like “babe” or “luv”.
Strangely enough despite its frequent use, slut is still as effective a term to make women blush as any other word.
Whore. Harlot. Tramp. Hussy. Harlot. Strumpet. Harpy. Banshee. I could do this all day.
My advice? Use some creativity in your verbal degradation. You’ll enjoy it. Promise.
When my slave and I first moved in together, our days started the same as many. I would get up, get ready for the day and kiss her in her sleep before heading to work. Every so often I would find little notes of affection in my jacket pockets. Nothing terribly long, but it was always something that brightened my day. I have collected them all and still keep them safe.
Eventually – as scraps of paper ran out and she was tearing apart notebooks – she decided to simply use the notebooks themselves and leave them by my laptop, or my cigarettes. As time passed (and many notebooks were filled) our little exercise of “awww” had grown to a weekday ritual.
Instead of the first thing I do being having a cigarette or checking my email, I have taken to looking for a note from my slave.
Nothing formal – indeed, she’s often taken to nerdy quips or trying to “out love” – but its something to look forward to in the morning. It was never agreed on or negotiated, just something she likes to do for reasons only she can express.
My advice: Enjoy the little rituals. Devotion and love doesn’t always need to be expressed, but its an amazing feeling when it is.
Disclaimer: I am a heterosexual male. I am proud to be a heterosexual male, and I do not want to be anything else. While I am what I like to call “pansexual friendly”, I have little interest besides heterosexual activities.
I am not a feminist. I don’t believe in feminism. Indeed, after repeated intimate relationships with women who called themselves feminists, the entire feminist movement leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
A long time ago I knew a submissive woman we’ll call Deb. Now, Deb was highly opinionated and we spent many nights at 24-hour coffee shops discussing and arguing political, social and economic issues. At one time, Deb postulated this:
“The very act of heterosexual sex is submissive. The male invades the female.”
I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but that simple realization would shatter my view on the world for years to come.
Feminism dot dot dot
An ex of mine was particularly fond of her Women’s Studies class. She spewed feminist literature as if her life depended on it, and it began to shape and strain our relationship. Before her, another woman I’d dated called herself a feminist but was much more empowered by it instead of outspoken regarding the subject.
Here’s the biggest problem I see with feminism: It is short-sighted.
“You think of women in a very positive light, you tend to put them on a pedestal — you don’t think you are discriminating against them, you just think you are protecting them,” she says of male leaders who may make up that “pocket of resistance” she and her colleagues studied. “Without realizing it you are preferring men over women when it comes to choice positions.”
Source: ‘I’m Not Your Wife!’ A New Study Points to a Hidden Form of Sexism [Link]
By giving feminism a name, by teaching classes on it and writing about it nigh constantly, society continues to feed a demon that tells us that men and women are different and should be treated as such.
Now that said, it’s not quite as simple as a word giving power to discrimination; that would imply that merely obliterating women’s studies and feminism from current social climate would resolve the status of female oppression – that’s not true, since women have only been on the path towards gender equality for a hundred years or so.
That said, feminism does overcompensate; by acknowledging a problem and giving special treatment to an issue, it introduces new problems. Feminism is a snake eating its own tail, and that simply won’t do.
Put Women In Their Place: Everywhere.
Last week, Becky Chambers at The Mary Sue brought an issue to my attention. I won’t tell you the background because its a huge issue beyond the scope of this post, but the sum of it is this:
A woman declared her intent to publicly voice her opinions about video games. For that, she was called a bitch, a whore, a slut, a cunt, a dyke, and a baffling assortment of racial slurs. She was threatened with violence, rape, and death. She was told to shut her mouth, get back in the kitchen, and die of cancer.
Source: themarysue.com [Link]
How the… why the… Are these people fucking retarded? But no, wait, its not the first time that this has happened, and that’s just in the games industry and not even referencing other industries or workplaces. Its a sobering fact that women are still regarded in many cases as second rate, and that needs to change.
So if I don’t believe in feminism, what do I believe in?
- I believe in full co-ed military integration.
- I believe in traditional marriage as an agreement between two people, not solely male and female.
- I believe that women can take care of themselves and do not need you to do it for them.
- I believe that if a woman is religious, she is fully entitled to be priest, spiritual leader or Pope.
- I believe that a woman is just as well suited to be a leader as any other person, as long as she’s the skills required.
- I believe that women and men should be punished equally for crimes they commit.
- I believe that there should be no place that a man can go that a woman is forbidden.
Some might call that the very meaning of feminism, and I agree.
However, I think that feminism is being superseded by a larger issue – gender neutrality and equality – and those that call themselves feminists are still focusing on only a facet of a larger social issue.
Omnigenderism – The Ultimate Equalizer.
It’s my opinion that the two gender dynamic is no longer attainable, and that the multi-gender dynamic is the future of our race. Just look at diversity of gender identities we have right now. Queer-Gender, Transgender, cisgender, intergender, bigender, pangender, and genderfluid are all different types of gender Identity.
Jean-Luc Gothos – [Source]
Like Jean-Luc Gothos, I believe that gender fluidity. I believe that this is the future of humanity.
I’d like to coin a term: Omnigenderism, the acceptance of all genders encompassing all possibilities both known and unknown.
If one must define me, I call myself an Omnigenderist. I believe in the equal rights and freedoms for all people regardless of their gender – born, chosen or otherwise – not just men and women. I believe that each gender should be legally accepted and socially celebrated.
I believe that Omnigenderism is more accepting and less specific than feminism. I believe that as a self-touted omnigenderist, all human beings – not just male and female – should have access to all rights and liberties that any other human being on the planet enjoys.