Unforgivables
June 8th, 2007So my top for the weekend is off watching Hostel 2, God save me, and I am camping out and recovering here at home base. Never was much for horror movies.
This is shaping up to be a thinky sort of night, and I am sure tomorrow will be no different.
I’m loud and clear about sexual liberation. Let’s drop that for a moment.
What is it never okay to do?
Everyone has their boundary, for them and for others. Yes, for others — we all can point at something and say “That’s just never right.” Some people’s boundaries are absolute: no bondage, no oral or anal sex, no blood or piss, no power, no pain. Some are relative: unpleasantness, dishonesty, degradation, damage.
I’ve been reading a lot of feminist writing lately in an ongoing effort to understand feminism. And I feel baffled and battered by the anger — especially regarding sex, sex work, and boundaries.
Really, I call bullshit. Is all of this restraint self-imposed because it might encourage the status quo? Men should change, not women’s sexuality. Men are not stupid or malicious, nor slaves to their lust. They are people. If we own our bodies (and we do), and we ought to be able to use them (and we ought), men can damn well let us. Policing ourselves to be correct, denying ourselves pleasure to be activists for the same cause? I just don’t see the point, and the feeling that I should tears me up with frustration.
Some feminists say sex work is never okay. (Reasons given: teaching men that women’s bodies are for sale, cheapening the importance of female sexuality, bolstering the importance of male sexuality, promoting dishonesty and cheating and the dissolution of marriage, reinforcing patriarchal power dynamics… I could go on all night.) I do not think I agree.
(Some feminists say contrarily that sex work is a feminist act — but oh, my, do I disagree with that too.)
Some feminists say that sexual female submission, or violent sex, is never okay. Clearly as someone who both seeks and gives such, I don’t agree. It’s also been suggested that my social conditioning makes me equate violence and sex. ‘Spose that’s possible, but I don’t like arguments that assume I am stupid and blind.
Some feminists say that secondary gratification — taking pleasure in your (male) partner’s pleasure — is not okay, that it devalues your already endangered sexuality. It’s okay only if he does similarly for you; when you enjoy the primary act as well; when you are merely ambivalent to the act; or when you are not greatly inconvenienced or pained by the act. Sometimes it’s okay when the act is apolitical, like indulging a foot fetish, but not when the act is charged, like facesitting or wearing a hood.
What about the idea of doing absolutely horrible fucking things, things you hate, things you’d nevereverever ask for, because your partner wants them?
What if your partner gets off on it — despite your dislike? Because of your dislike? Gets off purely on your misery, where the act is secondary to both of you?
Yeah, BDSM makes this stuff a little confusing, doesn’t it.
Personally I have been wondering where to draw the line as I play harder. The increasingly abstracted play looks less like sex and more like abuse. What would you call it if I beg, weep and wish to die the whole time, I don’t get wet, and neither of us gets off? (And not that I do — not that I dare — but what would you call it if I did that for pay?)
In fantasy that stuff is hot to me. Rape, force, absolute unequivocal nonconfuckingsent. Extortion, torture, that lovely word “break” and its equally lovely present participle. Sometimes I go home and palm the bruises and do a little — ahem! — appreciation, safely distanced from the experience. I get off on it on some level, it’s powerfully true.
But it’s scary, scary, and for every time I look back on those scenes like a favorite porn, there’s one where I want to fling myself into the corner, ashamed and afraid, wondering just what the fuck I have done with myself and if there can ever be redemption.
What is never okay in your paradigm?
June 9th, 2007 at 12:01 pm
“What is never okay in your paradigm?”
Before answering, I need to make a couple of points about what you’ve been reading. Nothing wrong with it in itself, and maybe you mention it because it’s just thought provoking. You’re raising ethical subjects, but I doubt feminism addresses ethics in a deep enough way to ever be satisfying as a foundation for sexual ethics. I could be wrong.
Sexual ethics is nothing more than a chip off the old ethics block anyway — same rules, different part of life. So I take the basic ethics rules and apply them.
I get my ethics from my religion, as do a lot of people in BDSM. We may disagree about our religion’s usual views about having sex itself or about some other aspect that applies to sex and BDSM, but for the most part, it all still applies: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” That’s a biggie, and it’s simple and often not too complicated to apply to a particular situation.
In BDSM we hurt and get hurt with consent (or the agreement not to provide consent, for instance — you know what I mean). But all we’re doing is consensual play, and that just doesn’t violate the Golden Rule.
Basic rules of integrity apply in all religions I’m familiar with, and I haven’t found there’s a problem in my relations with my past and present Bhuddist owners or my former Wiccan owner.
When a feminist says, in effect, “Don’t suffer for your lover or even your friend”, it sounds to me as if that feminist hasn’t really thought through the implications of human love or friendship, and certainly not thought through the joys of BDSM, where we make the sacrifice not just for the other person, but for our own erotic pleasure. To some degree, at all points, we ALWAYS suffer (including making sacrifices) for people who are close to us. It’s like saying, “Don’t use tabasco sauce” because women have hurt their mouths on it in the past; or “Don’t go see “Hostel 2″ because female characters are victimized in it. C’mon, we’re adults.
The whole assumption in the feminist commentary you mention (and in what I’ve read and heard before) seems to be that if women constrict their lives in a certain way, that will produce changes in social consciousness across society that will lead to a better world. In the meantime, the women who follow the advice of the feminists are led into unhappy lives, at least when they don’t temper feminist theories with common sense. I think changing the world by personal example is actually not a bad start in changing the world, but the feminists make the same mistake as the Puritans — you don’t start worrying about slippery slopes and the affects of your actions until the ground seems to start sloping a bit, not on safe, level ground: You don’t need to worry about your bottoming in a scene becoming a trap that locks you or anyone else into a mysogenistic society. That ain’t what’s driving oppression of women.
So what’s not okay in the Golden Rule paradigm? Not hurting others in ways that I believe would harm them (no matter what they want or say they want). “Harm” would tend to be something permanent or something hurtful in an emotionally scarring way. I think offending vanilla people, when you can avoid doing so, is hurtful.
Cheating on a lover is wrong, always. Not being open with a lover (IF it causes harm in any way) is beyond the pale.
Beyond that, I think you’ve got to be prudent in what you do, minimizing physical risks like unsafe play or unsafe sex. But I don’t think there are too many risks to society in activities that are usually intensely private. Maybe you’ve got to worry more about that stuff when you decide to appear in a movie. Then again, c’mon, we’re adults.
June 9th, 2007 at 12:33 pm
I guess I didn’t blather on enough in the last post, so I’ve got to add:
I wouldn’t be submissive with a dominant I thought was letting dominance get to his or her head, or if I thought my behavior was somehow eroding my dominant’s moral standards in the way the dominant treats others. I think some feminists may be assuming that submissive female behavior directly supports the dark side of men’s attitudes toward women.
I have to admit, that since I’m a guy, the female submissive / feminist tension just doesn’t come up. Also, I don’t do this stuff for money, I’m more likely to weed out anyone who doesn’t seem to have integrity in the first place (in relationships, if not in play).
Do women prostituting themselves support the worldview of misogynistic men? Maybe. My guess is, though, that it really doesn’t make much difference. I don’t see how prostitution or stripping or the sex industry in general would pour all that much fuel on that fire. I think home life and psychopathy provide most of that. But I never thought feminists were very good at distinguishing real sexism and misogyny from phony Kangaroo-court charges anyway.
June 9th, 2007 at 12:49 pm
Pat - Thanks again for reading, and for your really thoughtful reply.
I think I forgot to explain: I am appearing in a movie. I frequently do. This weekend we’re shooting bondage porn upstate, not taking a vacation. My “top for the weekend” isn’t a lover: he’s the handler and rigger.
I do feel responsible when I know my sexual activities are going to be bought, and judged, and taken all out of context.
June 9th, 2007 at 7:30 pm
A former domme almost put me in a ball gag because I talk so much. Maybe this’ll make you agree with her:
No, you had explained about the movie, and I got that. I think I may have been concentrating too much on the obvious in my posts, and maybe repeating what you already said, just somewhat differently. Sorry. Those parts of your post just struck a chord.
In rereading your post, a few other chords got struck:
“Personally I have been wondering where to draw the line as I play harder. The increasingly abstracted play looks less like sex and more like abuse. What would you call it if I beg, weep and wish to die the whole time, I don’t get wet, and neither of us gets off?”
I’d call it the typical emotional experience of a submissive (in some unusually hot scenes) as she gets deeper into submissiveness. I don’t regard it as anything different, in essence, from the joy we get from sex. I don’t think there are ethical/moral lines to be drawn between (a) deciding you’re going to get pleasure from sex, and (b) deciding you don’t want to cause harm or, be the cause, as you put it, of “dishonesty, degradation, damage”. Between (a) and (b) I think the field is pretty uniform in terms of morality.
“And not that I do — not that I dare — but what would you call it if I did that for pay?”
Since BDSM is essentially sex in the head, even when it’s not physically sex, I’d call it prostitution (just as a way of thinking clearly about it, not necessarily condemning it or addressing the legality of it).
“But it’s scary, scary, and for every time I look back on those scenes like a favorite porn, there’s one where I want to fling myself into the corner, ashamed and afraid, wondering just what the fuck I have done with myself and if there can ever be redemption.”
I’ve felt that too, even just in the past several days. I think it falls under the definition of “sub drop” (as they define it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subdrop ). I think it helps at those times to be in a D/s relationship, because the aftercare is more natural (and more likely, and usually more effective).
I just read this old post by Chelsea Girl, which covers much of the same ground you do in your post. If you don’t want to read the whole thing, start with paragraph 11, or, for even quicker reading, scan upwards from the bottom of the post. You both agree, but she feels more strongly about it:
http://prettydumbthings.typepad.com/chelseagirl/2005/09/betty_friedan_a.html
June 9th, 2007 at 7:57 pm
Sub drop makes an incredible amount of sense. It implies my reaction (guilt and shame I can’t justify) is irrational, arising from chemical imbalances. That’s tidy: I’ll buy it.
I don’t like that it’s a “drop from subspace”, though. What is subspace? That place you go to eat a sandwich? Firstly, I suspect I am a bad submissive, if one at all. And secondly, I’ve never experienced this much-vaunted subspace, as anyone describes it. When I finally do I want something dreamy and floaty and mystical, where pain doesn’t hurt and I want to say yes to everything. And there had better be a choir. And mist. And scantily clad women with harps.
I crash as a top too. That’s much easier for me to identify.
(I love the Chelsea Girl post, by the way. I blush to admit that I’ve read her entire blog.)
June 10th, 2007 at 8:35 am
As always, I love your writing. For me, the value of the feminist movement is that it made possible the life I want to live. I believe that everything that I love about my life was made possible by the feminist movement: my education, my independence, being a sex worker, being a writer, being kinky, being polyamorous, etc. And on top of that, being able to divulge all of these things, even while living in the Midwest. Before the feminist movement, there were not so many options for women. I see feminism as a historical movement that made my awesome life today possible. Some of the books you’re reading could be seen more as historical documents, paving the way for important theoretical shifts.
June 10th, 2007 at 10:26 am
I’m getting the impression that when you play it’s more S&M than D/s, which would make you more someone who plays with masochism as a bottom rather than a submissive, and of course, ain’t nothing wrong if you do.
Can you get sub drop without having gone into sub space? I’m positive that you can, although “sub drop” may be the wrong way to word it. Whenever you engage in any kinky sex, I think you can feel that. Do you ever feel it as a prodomme? I’d lay money down that you do, but it may well be very different (how would I know?).
At another time in my life, I experimented with having sex with other men. After a while, I found that all I was doing in terms of my emotions was a variation on masturbating myself. There simply was no emotional content whatever associated with sex with a guy for me, unlike sex with a woman. I did feel one emotion: I didn’t want to hurt the other guy’s feelings afterward, and so, when whatever gay man I was with would get emotional, flatter me and ask me to keep in touch, I would agree to take his phone number. But I was always so unemotional about it that whatever feelings of disgust soon welled up (they often did, not always), the phone number was tossed away within hours. It was a kind of sub drop without any previous emotional/sexual high. I *think* all these highs and lows are different but related.
(When I had sex with the men, I’d already had the benefit of having had sex with women, and I could recognize their emotional reaction to having sex with me as something very similar to the reactions I get with heterosexual sex. It’s always illuminating to experience two sides of anything emotional, isn’t it?)
I think that to get into sub space you have to tap into some set of emotions within yourself, a feeling of trust being one of the very big ones. Lots of people don’t, for whatever reasons.
At least it’s a fun way to explore.
(I left you an email at your domme address. I think we’ve met a few times in the past.)
June 10th, 2007 at 11:02 am
” […] for every time I look back on those scenes like a favorite porn, there’s one where I want to fling myself into the corner, ashamed and afraid, wondering just what the fuck I have done with myself and if there can ever be redemption.”
Would falling in love help? Not with a dom, but with a top. I wonder if finding actual true love is harder when kink is involved. I think kinkiness is one more thing to try to ignore when you’re figuring out whether someone is worthy of being given your heart. Or would giving up the kink (or much of it) be worth it if you were to find someone worthy of love? For me it would. (ymmv)
(I think Chelsea Girl is the most eloquent writer in the sex blogosphere. Here’s another great writer, but her blog’s defunct and her subject matter is really narrow: http://glazingthedonut.blogspot.com/ )
June 10th, 2007 at 1:13 pm
Rita, you always manage to say in a couple of sentences what it takes me two pages of angst to get through.
Can’t wait to see you at LR!
July 18th, 2007 at 3:02 pm
Hi!
You do raise the same questions I ask myself! For a period in my life,I was quite a radical feminist,totally believing the way we faced sex nowadays was gender-biased,etc,etc.Then,I got cured and now I’m a feminist who enjoys heterosexual sex,but…
The actual problem is BDSM and penetration.
Even in vanilla sex, I never stop attributing it a dominating meaning.And there’s always this little voice telling me that’s anti-feminist and I shouldn’t enjoy it that much.
Of course BDSM is consensual,but my fantasies are stubborn and keep including the non-consensual,the torture scenes and the terrible crime of having my body being used for my top’s pleasure. Which actually happens and doesn’t leave me that proud,after.Would I feel better if I was with a woman? Something tells me not,so perhaps it isn’t a question of feminist X non-feminist,but a matter of me not liking my own masochism and occasional submission.
Part of problem is feminism,like other isms, forgetting sexuality is an intimate matter and should be kept out of political issues. Everything is looked like a reflect of some social and political condition and it’s impossible,at least for me,not to think in such way,sometimes.And,inevitably, BDSM doesn’t seem that feminist those days.
I just guess I’ll have to keep trying to maintain both balanced,lol.