Why A Is Not Like B

Couple A is sitting in the back of a cab coming home from a lovely evening of the theater and dinner. Her skirt is riding high on her legs, and her inquisitive boyfriend feels his way up her legs to discover that she isn't wearing any underwear. He forces her legs apart and begins to touch her intimately despite her protests. She has the cabbie pull over, gets out and goes home. The nest day she presses charges for sexual assault. (This is in an ideal world, where women are not afraid to report partner assault, etc.)

Couple B is sitting in the back of another cab. They have been on a similarly lovely date. Her skirt is also riding high, she is similarly discovered not to be wearing any underwear. Her legs are also forced apart, and she is the brought to near orgasm despite similar protests. After they get out of the cab, they go home together, happy in what has just transpired. What makes this couple different? Why isn't this sexual assault?

Because couple B has added an extra dynamic to their relationship. They have an agreement where she cedes power to him (unless she uses a prearranged password to end the situation). Her no is part of a script as opposed to a true protest*. She** actively wants and desires what has happened. Hence the fact that she went home with him and proceeded to go to bed with him.

It makes me marvel at the fine line that I walk in my sex life. If I didn't have this agreement with my lovers, it would appear as though I (or they when the bitch goddess emerges) am in an abusive relationship. I am hit, and when it is desired and warranted, I hit back. I engage in a certain amount of risky behavior, which really only works because of these prearranged agreements and signals. I implicitly trust my partner to read my body language, to understand what I am telling him when I cannot speak. I give up my power and let my partner drive the train for a little while. This is what works for me, but it only works due to an underlying structure. This structure keeps wonderful interpersonal play from becoming assault and abuse.














*This is why someday I may have to have a talk with my kids (when I have them and they are teens) about why no means no, unless you're in scene in which case asparagus means no. Remember, No Means No for about 90% of the planet (overgeneralizing, but this is a case where that doesn't hurt).

**We could just as easily switch genders, but lately I have been playing submissive and so the submissive roles are being written as women. Women can and do sexually assault men, this should not be disregarded or trivialized.

It's a Very Big Closet

Which reminds be of the opening line from a song from Sondheim's "Into the Woods" - "He's a very nice prince."

I'm not going to get into the politics of the closet. I'm not going to discuss whether it's better to be out or closeted. I'd like to talk reality here.

I live in the closet. I work in a family owned religious bookstore. I'm a struggling student living at home with my mother. I can't wear a button that says "I'm kinky, ask me how." I cannot be the leather clad kink spokesperson. So I live in the closet.

And it's not too horrible. We don't have to heat it in the winter, so many people live here. And I get to vacation outside the closet. I have a group of friends and lovers and play partners to whom I can be completely out. Sometimes I think that I live for those vacations. But I wear my normal mask well, and have learned to play well with others.

Living here shapes my worldview. It keeps this blog relatively anonymous. It turns me into a covert educator, as opposed to a direct advocate. This doesn't mean I don't do my bit. I teach my friends and I teach my lovers who are new to the scene. By the way, the use of some plurals should not indicate that I am poly. More power to those that are, but I'm firmly in the monogamy camp. I'm involved in safe spaces, and I have this little blog. But I'm not out as a sex blogger (though I have yet to blog about actual sex), or a kink public advocate.

And that's OK! I don't have to wear my private life on a button on my bodice (though in certain cases it is appropriate and fun). I don't have to write articles about this subject under my own real name. I'm entitled to that privacy, as are my friends and lovers if they choose to maintain it.

But you have to face facts. Living in the closet hurts sometimes. It hurts that I have to hide who I am to everyone I know. I can't just take time from work to go to Black Rose or Floating World and say so. There are so many things I can't do.

This isn't a discussion about privilege, by the way. I know that my skin color (white) and my basic sexual orientation (straight) entitle me to slightly more privilege than a dead white male (the only thing keeping me from having THAT much privilege is indoor personal plumbing), but I would like to disagree. But that's a rant for another time. I promise, it'll be good.

So that's the view, peeking out from behind the closet door. It's mostly nice in here, except for when it isn't.

For Your Consideration

For those of you familiar with some of my old livejournal writings on this subject, you can feel free to skip this post, as it's kind of a rehash.

I used to have a tendency to do lists and steps when I talk about this sort of thing. But then I learned that sexuality is an ongoing journey. There can be no platitudes, no concrete steps. The only thing that remains a constant is communication. And I maintain that kinky people communicate better.

That's kind of a huge statement to make, I know. I can hear the shouts from the peanut gallery again (will you guys ever shut up? It's getting bloody irritating). But it's a reality. We do communicate better than most vanilla couples. This is because we have to. If you've got someone tied up in intricate shibari bondage, (more power to you if you do, I'm too lazy for that stuff), you have got to have channels of communication open with that person. He or she must be able to tell you when something hurts in a bad way, or they are loosing feeling in a body part, etc. In order to execute a scene based on a particular fantasy correctly, there must be open communication between the participants regarding the various wants and needs that are going into all of it. No one gets what they want when they don't talk about it.

This is obviously true of any type of relationship. Vanilla folks could certainly benefit from more open and consistent communication in their relationships. They also could benefit from a good spanking, but that's kind of just my opinion on things that are fun (which is really the topic of several other posts). They'll show up eventually, I promise.

Communication is the key to successful sexual exploration. I'm sure that some of my readers got here by the power of search engines, not that I think I rank all that high on a google search yet. Some of you are just finding this stuff sexy for the first time. And you have no frakkin' clue if your partner thinks it's equally hot. In order to get what you want, you have to say something. That's hard because you don't really want to come off as a total nut job. The worst reaction you can possibly get to any revelation of sadomasochistic tendencies is "you're a horrible human being, get away from me." The middle ground is "huh, never thought about that before, but I'm willing to give it a try." The best possible reaction is "me too!"

To sum up, communication is key. No one gets anywhere if they don't talk to their partners. No one gets what they want, no one gets orgasms, no one has fun. And really, who wants that?

Things I Want, Take 1

This post is coming off the heels of a couple of things. Part of it comes from reading the eloquent M. McGregor's post about what fanfiction writers Should Not Do. Mostly it comes from the fact that I'm in the middle of reading the book Princess of Wands. A large chunk of this book takes place at a con. For the uninitiated, that's a science fiction convention (and if you didn't know what that was, what are you doing here?).

The main character is a Christian housewife who has enough faith in Jesus to be a warrior for the side of good (I read crazy weird books). During the scene that I want to talk about, she is currently being chaperoned around the con by an exotic dancer (no, I'm not making this up). At one point, some characters show up to the con carrying large bags and big wooden pieces. Barb (the main character) notices that "they look like parts of crosses." Janea, the dancer, mentions that they are St. Andrew's crosses and that "the Black Rose has apparently turned up in force." I don't know if that was just a one-off, or if there's going to be more discussion. Frankly, I hope it's kept as a one-off, as there is currently a serial killer on the loose.

It got me to thinking about what the "Bondage in Brundage" panel from Lunacon could have been had it not gotten hijacked by the wankers in attendance. It was meant to be about BDSM in sci-fi/fantasy, the Kushiel series (which is mostly just bad writing paired with VERY unrealistic portrayals of female submission) and Gor (which is just plain terrible) aside. Did it have to be technically accurate, portrayals of kinky characters in sci-fi, etc. And I tried to formulate what I wanted to see in fiction. I didn't need every rope expertly tied (as one of the world's laziest tops, I just care that restraints exist. They don't have to be pretty.). I don't need a scene described in vivid detail by the submissive as they experience it. That's what I read porn for. I read science fiction and fantasy for, well, the science and the fantasy. Also some well written fiction.

"Well then, what DO you want," I hear someone shout from the peanut gallery (quiet you). I want to see me in a story. Someone who isn't a professional dominatrix, a woman who is into BDSM as a private thing. Not something they hide, but something that they don't feel the need to broadcast to the world. A balanced character with an expanded sexual repertoire. I want to be able to identify with this character. I don't identify with the leather clad biker top who insists on the damn capitalization protocol. I want a "normal" person who 'just happens' to identify with the kink community. And apparently that is too much to ask. It's not got be sensational, or non existent.

/rant

This is a Test

This is a test of the Vox blogging system. It is only a test.

It might be nice to have a space that only a few people know about. I'm so used to Livejournal that it's getting just a bit stale. Dreamwidth isn't my cup of tea, and this was suggested.

Warning - much of the content of this blog will not be child friendly. I'm in my mid-20's and at the end of an 8 year journey in defining my sexual identity. The title of this blog should have been a dead giveaway. So if you're not 18, please shoo. I mean it. There are other places to learn about this stuff that are better for you.

OK, now that it's just us grownups, let's wrap it up. I'm looking forward to getting some good solid stuff out here. There are going to be posts about living a semi-closeted life, posts about integrating personal religious identity and sexuality, and just plain bragging posts.

Live life large, and play safe, sane, and consensual.

I'll be back...