Archive for the ‘My brain’ Category

An interesting thing

I’m starting to feel the desire to take  a name on this blog, rather than be ‘Nameless’.

Something has shifted in me today. Perhaps it was this. I sat down late last night to write about fighting, and what came out was something else entirely, and I feel as though I’ve remembered who I am. A bit, at least. I feel more certain.

Perhaps also it’s a sudden rush of new blogs I’ve been reading the last couple of days – Axe and Eileen and MayMay and others. Blogging and the reading of blogs is, I guess, a bit like group therapy.


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Many years ago, in my early twenties, a drunk guy hit on me in a pub. He meant no harm. He was hammered. He started by trying to sweet talk me, and in true shy English style, rather than telling him to sod off, I smiled politely but absently and waited for him to pick up on the subtle ‘go away’ signals.

Then suddenly he leant in to kiss me. Without thinking at all, completely instinctively, I reached up and took him by the neck. I wasn’t afraid; I wasn’t angry; I was simply disabusing him of his mistaken idea.

He was astonished, as was his friend, who leapt in, apologising profusely, and hurried him away. My action took everyone by surprise, including me. I got many compliments from my friends for being ‘hardcore’ and ‘badass’. But what I personally felt was a kind of quiet satisfaction, because in that moment I had felt more myself than I had ever done before.

As time went by, I came to find that I felt most myself, most free, when I knew I was in charge. There are moments when I just know I rule. Literally and colloquially. 🙂 My last boyfriend used to refer to me as his ‘dark and terrible mistress’. My friends used to tease me by quoting Blackadder at me – ‘Who’s queen?’

I’m queen. I rule.

I don’t get to feel myself (ahem) anywhere near as often as I’d like. When there are strangers around, usually other things get in the way: shyness; fear; insecurity. I’m afraid even now just writing this that everyone who reads it will hate me, because we’re not supposed to like being in charge. (Especially if you’re English – we call it being ‘up yourself’.) But when I feel it, I know it’s me. I feel I’ve lived a thousand lives of responsible rulership, benign dictatorship.

When I’m in that state of mind, I know my own power. I feel my own power. It’s not an ego-trip. There’s no megalomania. I just know I rule. It’s secure, relaxed, natural. And other people respond to it too. They listen when I talk. They naturally just do what I tell them. It’s the most extraordinary thing.

i used to think it was a character flaw; that I was just ‘bossy’. As I say, we’re not supposed to like being in charge. It was some time before I understood that every archetype has both flaws and virtues, weaknesses and strengths.

It’s funny, really, the dark and terrible mistress thing, as at that time I didn’t see myself as remotely dark, rather the opposite, I was always scared of the dark side and tended to stay firmly in the world of the fluffy. Perhaps he saw something I hadn’t seen yet. He was an extremely clever, self-possessed man, my ex, and he had just as much nataural ‘power’ as me, but there was no doubt I was queen in that relationship. He was a mixture of grand vizier, indentured fallen angel, and sworn vassal. I wonder what he’d think now if he knew I was starting to peek (ever so tentatively) out of the vanilla closet. He probably wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

Well, that’s not the post I intended to write at all. I think I’ll stop and start again.

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Ethical exploration

I need some real people to play with. I mean, people who are actually involved in the game. This toying with my acquaintances thing may be fun, but it’s also not really fair. If a guy behaved towards me like that – well, I’d seize him by the throat and reeducate him, but the point is, I have no desire to be a creep, or a bully, and behaviour that would be fun with consenting ‘victims’ is unfair with others.

But here’s the thing – I’m not ready for ‘real’ people. I’m not ready for people who actually know about this stuff. It’s too intimidating. And besides, I suspect the good ones are rare, and I have very low tolerance for creepy. My budding baby-dom self is so fragile that if I went to some bdsm event now and was surrounded by a bunch of people I found creepy, it might just put an end to the process for good.

So what do I do? There’s nothing I can do. What I need is a relationship. I need a guy that I trust and feel comfortable with, so that I feel secure enough to take the risk of beginning to express this side of me. And relationships are not things we can conjure up. I can’t do anything but wait and hope that the universe sends me someone appropriate.


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Dreams and awakening

Some time ago, well over a year ago, before I’d come across Ms Jones and been woken up to the possibility I might be dominant, I had the most intensely erotic dream of my life.

There were these two guys, and the dom had invited me into their dynamic as a kind of ‘present’ for the sub, a reward for good behaviour, a gift of love, something to make him happy. All I really remember was the three of us screwing in this weird narrow kind of cage in a night-time marketplace, the dom at the top, the happy and grateful sub in the middle, and me at the bottom of the pile having, even though it was just a dream, the most intense sexual experience of my life.

I woke up and I was like, wtf? Does some part of me want to be placed even beneath subs? But now, with hindsight, I don’t think it was that at all. I think I was getting off on this guy’s submission, and my brain had simply painted me into the scenario in a place it could handle – ie, a place where I wasn’t myself doing any hurting or dominating.

I’ve really struggled with the idea of myself in that role.

Last night I had my very first dom-type dream. Baby-dom, of course – this whole thing is baby steps for me – but it’s still progress. I was one of three women, and there were two men. I started, just a little, to toy with one of the guys in a slightly d/s kind of way, and then discovered the other women were up to similar things. The moment I discovered this was when I had the thought that I could use one of my hair clips as a makeshift nipple clamp, and I went to put it on the guy and found that one of the other women had beaten me to it, and he already had some fairly hefty crocodile clips hanging from various parts of his body. And gradually we women got together and started to team play these guys. I woke up horny as hell and with a sudden urge to write porn.


Well, it probably helps that I was reading bdsm slash before I went to bed (I’m such a fangirl). But the real trigger, I think, is a new acquaintance. I’ve been hanging out with a good friend of mine and his new girlfriend, and it turns out that this girl and I have quite a lot in common. In particular, we both like to be in charge, though she has far fewer compunctions about it than I do. And because we’ve been playing off each other’s dynamic, these traits have been exaggerated in us, so that it’s got to a point where we’ve been (non-physically) kind of kicking my friend around between us like a ball. Playfully, of course – I’m very aware that we’re kind of skirting the limits of what will be taken in good humour, and so am starting to tone it down – but nonetheless, it kind of feels like two doms playing with a man toy, or as close as the ordinary world allows us to come to that.

If I playfully pretend to hit him, she playfully leaps in to insist that he’s hers to hit. If she playfully spanks him and I suggest that she hits him harder, she responds, ‘Oh, I do.’ We tag-team mildly sexually harrassing the beautiful young man I mentioned a couple of posts back (again, with me carefully watching for the line beyond which this is Not Cool). We make playful plans to capture a harem and keep them in cages in the basement. We discuss the possibility of paying our impoverished male acquaintances to make out for our entertainment.

I feel like a child trying on her mother’s heels or playing kiss chase in the playground. I feel like I’m trying on this role for size. I feel like the walls between the parts of my brain that want this and that are afraid of this are starting to come down, brick by tiny brick.

Footnote: I’ve just remembered that when I was a kid I always wanted to do the chasing in kiss chase, rather than the running. 🙂

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What is bdsm?

Now that  I’ve hit my quota of eyecandy for the day, it’s time for some thinking. Dear more-experienced-people-than-me: what is this bdsm(&m) lark, anyway?

Just a small question. I’m sure we can get to the bottom of it before bedtime.

All the terms are so fuzzy, and interlinked, and subjective, and sometimes we throw them round interchangeably when they’re not interchangeable, submission not being the same as masochism and domination not being the same as sadism, etc etc yada yada. I’d really like to know what you lot think about these terms and how you self-identify. If I can understand how you tick, it may help me figure out how I tick.

For example. Doms: is it you dominating that does it for you, or him submitting? And vice versa for subs. Sadists: is it the being sadistic that does it for you, or the seeing-him-in-pain? Masochists – is it the being in pain, or the having someone hurt you? Or is the pain just part of the submission? Part of the domination? Do you dominate in order to hurt, or hurt in order to dominate? Etc.

Incidentally, I can’t be the first person to wonder about these questions, so if anyone knows any discussions along these lines that have happened elsewhere, I’d love it if you’d point me at them.

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From a certain view point, I kind of get the submission thing. I toyed with it in my youth. I can understand the appeal of devoting yourself entirely to someone you wholly revere. I’ve always loved the archetype of an apprentice entirely devoted to his or her master, devoted to the point of self-negation. There’s a mixture of a completely unselfish passion – a passion so pure that it doesn’t care if it’s returned – and a certain masochistic pleasure in being unsure of them.

Then there’s the appeal of someone’s desire for you being so all-consuming that they will simply take you if need be. I got that in my youth. Now it makes me feel icky. I far prefer the idea of someone’s desire for you being so all-consuming that they let everything around them go to wrack and ruin. Someone utterly destroyed by their desire. Their desire resulting in a loss of power, not in taking power. Heard Sting’s ‘Mad About You’? Epic. I love epic.

Then there’s a deliciousness in the alternation of tenderness and cruelty. Like salt and sweet, each refreshes and enhances the taste of the other. Throws them into sharp relief. Throw contradictions at someone till they’re so confused they don’t know which way is up, and everything feels more… more. Every tiny thing has huge significance.

In my early twenties I read The Captive Flesh. Good old Cleo Cordell. I’d always had a bit of a harem thing – I think most girls do, the result of a culture which quietly insists that we all want nothing more than to be consumed by a powerful man. But the Captive Flesh approach only works if the sheik/master/whoever is someone whose attention you come to really crave. Submission worked for me, a little, in my youth, because when you’re roleplaying there can be such a person, a person so radiant, so brilliant, so admirable, or so darkly fascinating, that the idea of giving yourself over to them entirely, just for sheer devotion, is buyable. Because it’s not a real person, it’s a character. It’s not a real situation, it’s a larger than life imaginary world. It didn’t last five minutes for me in the real world, and as I got older it became less and less appealing. The problem is, you see, that in the real world, people are just people. As I lost my little-girl desire to be validated by a man’s attention, I lost any interest I ever had in submitting to a man. (Subs, please don’t take offense – I’m describing my own mental processes.)

I don’t want blind devotion in a man, either. I don’t want a guy who’ll just do what I tell him. I’d rather have a man who fights for his sovereignty. Conflict, masochism, but no surrender.  I want a guy who’ll fight and curse and resist but be unable to help responding. At least to begin with. Maybe he could surrender at the end.

And then get up and fight again tomorrow.

Or, contradictions. A man who knows how to keep the flame alive in his heart, even while obeying. So that there’s always the danger he might suddenly stop obeying and start rebelling. A man who is hard-won. A man who can adore you with one half of his soul and fight you with the other.

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For the longest time, I had no clue. Then I came across this, and I recognised something, and was gobsmacked. And then I read this, and recognised something else, and was really, really scared.

It had never occurred to me that I might have dom leanings, let alone sadistic ones. Inconceivable. Because I thought I knew what femdom was. I thought it was the hokey crap you see on tv – the ridiculous catsuits and the pathetic businessmen and the lots of money and the no sex, and it all being about the man. Rex Van de Kamp et al. God bless Beej for showing me something real. But it scares the crap out of me. I don’t know if I could ever get past the mental blocks.

Still, got to explore it. So, with my first clue in hand, I’m off to hunt down other clues. And eventually I’m going to catchy that flighty bastard Eros (the wings are just unfair, frankly). And possibly do terrible things to him. He’s the prettiest of them all, you know.

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