Violence and Safety

There is a newspaper article that talks about ten things to end the rape culture -- a culture that we, as a human species, take as granted.  This is a topic that is important to keep top of mind when discussing BDSM and, even more, the fantasy of force.  Often, BDSM and "force fantasy" and "Gorean fantasy" are all conflated in the online gaming community, and it is sometimes difficult to separate the three ideas when such a sexually-charged atmosphere governs each one without apology.

Indeed, often a new submissive will stroll into the community, freshly-decked in 'the right clothes' to attract 'like-minded kinksters' and, as surely as a brand new uniform identifies the young and impressionable in any population, 'She' becomes precisely the target 'He' has been waiting for.  "She wears leather and studs, and she shows a lot of leg and cleavage.  Surely, she must want to be captured, humiliated, and raped," says the unscrupulous predator to himself, and he springs into action.

It is regrettable, actually, that the acronym "BDSM" contributes to this kind of thinking: it is, otherwise, such a handy acronym.  Unfortunately, guilt-by-association:  the B and the D and the S and M are so close together that people conveniently assume consent-for-one means consent-for-all.  In fact, that is not true at all: simply because a person is interested in the B, it does not follow that the person is also interested in the S/m.  And, simply because a person might be interested in some light  or strict or exploratory or conditional S/m, it does not follow that she is interested also in the idea of humiliation -- something not even represented in the acronym at all but, for some reason, people just inflict at will.  (A person can explore masochism without feeling humiliated.  It is faulty thinking to assume one equals the other.)  And, simply because a person might be interested in humiliation, it does not follow that she is necessarily interested in ROPE bondage as opposed to, say, cages or chains or cupcakes.  And ultimately, it is a bad assumption to make about a woman definitely wanting a punishing rape because of what she's wearing that day.  Bad, bad assumption.  Brain-damaged assumption.

Force-fantasy, slavery, humiliation... these are ideas that a very specific few people cherish appropriately, relegated as they may be to the darker side of sexual exploration.  These are ideas that, until one has enthusiastically consented to them (not just an absence of "no" but, rather, an enthusiastic and resounding "Yes, I am positively sure!") there is no consent.  And if there is no consent, there is no earthly reason to practice these things.  There is no right.

I wondered, when I began my journey over a year ago, why "consent" was such a big deal for the BDSM community -- and thank God, it is a big deal.  It was so unlike Gor to require the consent of another person before inflicting dark fantasy upon her.  Gor is, after all, a gender-based force-fantasy: women are weaker and submissive because of their gender, goes the argument.  There is no reason to seek consent from someone naturally weaker and naturally available to rape, goes the thinking.  They do not ask the cow its consent before slaughtering it for food: why ask the woman her consent before violating her?

The reason, I have long since discovered, consent is such a big deal in the BDSM community is because we live in a rape-culture that we take as granted.  We naturally assume it will be dangerous for women to walk alone at night, and that women do not enjoy the safety in public as they do in their own home (we hope, anyway, that a woman's home is a safe haven).  We also know that there are women in the world for whom violence and force are fantasies, and that there are partners in the world for whom indulging such fantasies is pleasurable.  And these people, when they are allowed to come together in safety, sanity, and consent, may live out their fantasies (a permission that all intelligent, free-minded people ought to enjoy) without inflicting trauma as a consequence.

The Dictionary, Page Five

Worship comprises the fifth page of the dictionary of my submission, what words mean to me in the context of Tasdron Dryke.  Worship means, to me, a great big bowl of hyperbole -- exaggeration, excess, wanton slathering of meaning over something so ordinary as love.  And it's all I have, sometimes.  Sometimes, that great big bowl of excess and "too much" is all I have, so far away.  It makes it easier to bear, to use such words.  Too much, more than, ever in this whole world.

It makes it easier to conceive of "no ordinary love" when I imagine how I worship you (like a king) and how I adore you (like a Christ) and how I prostrate myself before you (like a Messiah).

Really it means that I obey you (like a king) and I listen to you (like a Christ) and I submit myself before you (like a Messiah).  You are not a king; you are of the same class as I am.  You are not a Christ; you are just clever, thoughtful, and ready to give love.  And you are not a messiah; you are American, brave, and free.  I know the reality of you; and yet, whenever we speak or whenever I feel close to you even if there is no speaking, despite the reality that I know (and I too am real, and I too know the vast gap between the statue on the plinth and the woman who keeps it pretty) I am compelled, time and again, to fall to my knees and look up to you and sing your praises as though I were a choir of hundreds of voices.  More hyperbole!  But it is as if, and therefore it is.  I think, therefore I worship.

It makes me feel good to know you are in the world.  And it makes me feel good to know that you can hear me.  It makes me feel good that you let me in, on days when you aren't filling my world with you, so that I can fill your world with me.  I lean on you.  You lean on me.  And I am blessed for it.  (And now I know why I chose this picture, and before that, why you chose this pose.)

"Worship" is just a word I use, sometimes, to indicate the way in which my imagination elevates you beyond the ordinary.  It is a word I use sometimes to indicate that, despite the reality of our worlds, my fantasy is to occupy a world where I may lift you so high with how much I love, and where you may bring me with you with how much you love.  You lean on me, and I lean on you, and this is how it works.  It reinforces the electrical current of the power we exchange; it doesn't sap it.

Pain and forgiveness

Forgiveness redux.  The task is not complete.  We did a ritual of red markings upon my body, and that begins a journey I did not anticipate.  The paint has faded but I remember my task, and the pain is changing.  Pain and Paint are words I link, now, and things make sense to me.  I do not know if you intended this link, but it has happened anyway.  Painted pain fading.  At least, changing.

And this book has done things that we will need to talk about, also.  This is the picture in my mind when I imagine the book, and how you will always come for me.

* * *
Inigo could not stop his sudden tears.
"Now you are watching him fall.  Look -- look at him -- watch Domingo die --"
Inigo began sobbing out of all control.
"Tell me what you feel --"
Inigo was barely able to speak the word:  "Pain."
"Yes, right, of course, pain, killing pain.  That is what you should want more than anything, an end to your pain."
"...yes..."
"That pain is with you, every moment of every day?"
"...yes..."
"If you think of ending your pain, you will kill the six-fingered man.  But if you only think of revenge, he will kill you, because he has already taken the thing on earth you treasured most, and he will know that, and when you battle he will say things, he will taunt you, he will talk about your pathetic father and he will laugh at your love for a failure like Domingo, and you will scream in rage and your revenge will take control and you will attack blindly -- and then he will cut you to pieces."

* * *
When I am not imagining love and connection, I imagine ending pain.  But not really.  When I am not imagining love and connection, I imagine changing pain, a transformation.  Another metamorphosis, another pretty butterfly wing emerging.  A different pain.  I imagine feeling something different, something reserved, something never yet experienced.  Putting pain somewhere on my body and letting it feel what it is like to split open and bleed.  And then, deriving pleasure from it.  I would say, a well-earned pleasure.  Time enough.

Not every day.  My submission is not characterized by this.  I am more love than agonizing.  But, for a special treat, the agonizing must flow.

I know now what I must do.  I knew we would figure it out.

Ritual, Manners, Privacy

A bridge is a ritual space, I have just discovered.  Like a ladder.  A bridge connects two spaces, the before and the after.  And crossing a bridge is its own kind of ritual, the way to enter a space and the way to leave a space behind.  Ritual can be as simple as turning to face a new direction; or it can be as ornate and brazen as the shield of Achilles.  Forged in the imagination of a skilled practitioner, ritual is a Godsend to someone like me who -- for various reasons -- craves that secret space, that private place where one knows and believes in something transcendent and beautiful.

Steel Door treats ritual here and it is a pretty primer, after all.  There are some things, though, that simply cannot be taught or read about; and in order to fully appreciate the connection that ritual affords, the deep-rooted and clutching connection, it's best to reach out and really live it and feel it with someone awesome.  Someone whose manners are like one's own. Someone whose ways make sense to oneself.  Someone with whom the whole world vanishes and any space becomes private space because of the deep-rooted and clutching connection.

Yes, it is possible to find exactly -- I mean, to the note, to the syllable -- what you're looking for in this world.

Chastity and Online D/s

I attended a discussion yesterday that began as an open-forum talk-about-what-you-want munch and resulted in a very interesting discussion about chastity.  I asked the question, "did anybody attend the chastity discussion of the night before which I was forced to miss" because I am interested in what the general D/s community public has to say on the matter.  Sadly (to me), the answer came back that the discussion I missed had actually been all about sexual stimulation.  Orgasm control and such things -- which I do not regard with any critical view as "chastity."  So then I asked the question, do you think discussions of chastity would go over well in this community?  The answer was a resounding yes!

Apparently there is, in fact, a growing trend of submissives in Second Life who, like me, don't throw it all about, as it were.  In fact, the idea of holding oneself "in trust" for one's eventual Master or Mistress is more common than I'd thought!  And even then, there is also a growing trend of chastity within an established relationship.  Submissives who have chosen a dominant may still, in the online world of Second Life, require "no sex" as a limit.  She is still a rare bird, she is, who will enforce that kind of limit.  However, it's not unheard of, and I regard it as a very sensible thing to do for many reasons (common-sense reasons that many security professionals have already imparted all over the internet).

Submission is not simply a sexual service.  And, if a dominant has his eye on a particular submissive who has proven that she is disciplined with her body and her mind and her endeavours, that is an attractive bird indeed, is she not?  If I were a dom looking for a submissive girl, I would want one who demonstrates that she is not a crawling, whimpering mess of appetites.  Even for the very simple reason that such a bird doesn't tend to carry a lot of baggage a dom will have to deal with.  And I have baggage issues, so that is why the no-baggage idea is so attractive to me.  Anyway.  Moving along.

Submission is not simply a sexual service.  Vulnerability of submission implies naked, bare, stripped, transparent and raw presentation -- and that is what a lot of my photography aims to capture in fact.  Without necessarily capturing a sexual experience, if that makes sense.  Gender, yes.  Vulnerable, yes.  Sexual, not necessarily.  I, myself, explore the idea of submission in a chaste way.  At first, I thought I was alone in the world -- but now I realize there is at least one other person (and maybe ten!) who believe in this method.

Submission is not simply a sexual service.  I am, however, obligated to further contextualize the adorable  part of that discussion, and it's as good a punch-line as any.  It does, I'm afraid, slightly burst the bubble that I have admired for the duration of this post.  In an admittedly adorable way.  But I don't mind -- at least I've started the conversation.  So, here it is:  when I asked the question about whether or not discussions about actual chastity would be a good idea (and keep in mind, my question is whether DISCUSSIONS would be a good idea, not whether chastity would be a good idea), a very good-looking and articulate man in attendance immediately offered the comment, "I would really like to encourage this idea of chastity, this way of thinking, yes, a very good line of inquiry."  And suddenly, all the girls present were like, "Oh I'm chaste.  Oh yes me too.  Oh I have been for a long time.  Oh totally chaste.  Me too, Me too!  I still have orgasms but I'm chaste.  Oh yes you have to have SOME orgasms, but yes otherwise very chaste."  Et cetera.

Well, whatever it takes, my sisters.  Whatever it takes.  So there you have it: there is (now) a growing trend towards chaste living in the online D/s community in Second Life.

Beginnings Are Precious

I was asked to write something on the idea of the online world of Gor in Second Life as a way to learn about submission.  This idea is interesting to me because that is, in fact, how I began, five years ago -- entering the world of dominance and submission via "safe, sane, consensual" Gorean role-play.  There are so many good things about this, and also so many things that require caution and care.  To be clear, I am talking about entering Gor (or any role-play fantasy) as a way of learning about submission:  to talk about exploring feelings that one has already cultivated is another conversation altogether.  Here, I'm more concerned about the brand-new.  The uninitiated.  The absolute beginner, as I was.

The first thing I have to say is, beginnings are precious.  I get this idea from Frank Herbert's novel, Dune.  "A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct." Beginnings are precious: if one upsets the journey in the beginning, it is a terrible shame when such great potential is wasted and abandoned.  What can upset the balance:  the inexperienced can fall prey to the sinister-minded resulting in a terrible abuse; or, the inexperienced can fall prey to a particular group that doesn't meet her desires but instead forces her to meet theirs, convincing her that "this is submission" because they say so.  Beginnings are precious: the absolute beginner is at the mercy of those who have walked the path before, and it's the luck of the draw whether the absolute beginner meets a kind person first or meets the big bad wolf first.  I was lucky -- I am just a lucky person, I suppose -- and I met the awesome.

The second thing I have to say is, not everybody enters the role-play fantasy worlds with the same purpose and intention.  A large percentage of the population of online Gor comes to play for the battle and rescue, and they are not experienced Masters or teachers beyond the obvious gender-allowances that dictate "This is Gor, and I am male, therefore you will obey me."  Because, the fundamental premise of Gor is a gender-based submission:  females are inferior in strength, in intelligence, and in social standing to men in Gor.  With that inferiority comes a "natural" submission and slavery -- and here is one reason why so many people equate submission with weakness, incidentally.  It is a Gorean idea, not an Earth one.  (And, it is offensive to my soul, in many ways, so I ignore it.)  So, to come into Gor with the intent of learning about submission, the first and fundamental premise of Gorean submission is one that many people are simply going to reject from the get-go.

The third thing I have to say is, there is no shortage of online gaming communities that trade on the dominance and submission architecture -- vampire sims, Story of O and Beauty sims, medieval sims, drug addict apocalyptic nihilistic sims, pirates and mermaids and nude-bars galore, nevermind the "regular" BDSM clubs one can join.  Each one has a very specific kind of play on offer, and so an absolute beginner (if she wants to learn about submission) is going to get a narrow and highly-specialized education if she leaps in to one of these communities before doing a little bit of research.  For example, Gor and the Story of O both trade in sado-masochistic disciplining and humiliation of the submissive/slave.  This is not "submission" writ large:  this is one very specialized kink that is often mistaken for "all submission."  When one mistakes the part for the whole, one may upset the balance of the beginning and, well, run like mad from the idea forever after.

Not all submissives are sexual deviants, it is important to remember.  Not all submissives want to be humiliated, or whipped, or chained or sat on or burned or waxed or whatever it is that people's kinks explore.  And, so, to learn about submission in a highly-eroticised and kinked-out fantasy world, a person might just get the wrong idea if these kinks are not what she had in mind from the beginning.  (Granted, she may get a terrific education and have some doors opened to her about stuff she never realized was really sexy, before.  That, too, happened with me.  I would not understand my love of ropes if not for my early grooming by my lucky find.)

The fact that I can -- in this blog and in my photography --  eroticise the idea of ropes, chains, and enslavement as part of my fantasy world of submission leads me to my final point on the matter:  a person needs to be able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality.  In my fantasies, I am a slave.  In my reality, I am a submissive.  I love that in my reality, I have free will and the ability to choose for myself when I need to.  I love that I do not have to ask permission to do anything, and that I am free to use my strength and power for what needs doing, all in the service of my very special husband. And, in my fantasy, sometimes I imagine the world of Pauline Reage's Story of O.  Sometimes I imagine the world of John Norman's Gor.  But these are fantasies and I would never wish that reality upon anybody, 24/7.  If, in reality, a woman was deemed weaker, and was naturally expected to obey, and was forced into sado-masochistic sexual practice whether she liked it or not as proof of her submission, oy vey.  I would have to change the world, in that case.   The world would need changing.

Beginnings are precious.  In the beginning, a new exploratory submissive woman does not have the wherewithal and experience to make these distinguishing analyses.  And that makes her vulnerable.  Beginnings are precious, because beginnings are vulnerable.  The new submissive cannot say with any confidence what the difference is between a slave and a submissive person.  She cannot always tell what is spoken "in character" and what is spoken "out of character" in roleplay situations.  Therefore, to wander into Gor and expect to learn about submission is, I think, a dangerous idea.  Sometimes it can work -- but it is not as safe a bet as wandering into the Journey sim and talking to a mentor.

Mastering the Light

Once upon a time, I wandered into the darkness, seeking.  Then, things happened.  Then, I learned something.  Now, I come out of the darkness and back into the light, having learned something.  I breathe the fresh air, and I look around at the blue sky.

I'm not finished my learning; not at all.

I'm looking from a different angle, though.  I thought it was darkness that compelled me through the woods.  I realize now, though, that things have changed and I am better able to articulate what I need -- and articulate to the proper people.  It's not darkness I need: it's mastery of the light.

Just like in photography: the trick to a good photo is the use of light.  The trick to an interesting subject, one that compels us to look and understand, is the story.  What is she doing, where has she come from, and where is she going?  The present, the past, and the future of a story.  Only connect.

And as such, as I begin my mastery of the light, I celebrate one very important revelation.  It's a thread that has spun round me for a few months now and finally terminates in a pretty bow laced to my frilly blouse-collar:  are you sure what you're looking for is a D/s dynamic, he had asked?  It's an honest question.  The question arose because I was resistant to many things one traditionally associates with BDSM, namely the wide array of kinks on offer.  They simply do not turn me on.  Are you sure, came the question.  Of course! was my reply.  But that thread still hung loosely, nagging me.

And then it occurred to me.  Eureka! I do not need kinks to enjoy submission.  I may, actually, enjoy submission for the sake of submission.  It may very well be that I simply enjoy submission; the power exchange; without necessarily needing to bring a chicken, a crop, a deck of cards, and a blindfold into the room at the same time.  (Note well:  I am not only kink-tolerant, I am kink-encouraging!  I think people should have fun and do what they love to do.  I do not disparage "kink."  I simply think that kink is for others.  Or, well.  Usually.)

People may enjoy the delights of kink even in a non-D/s dynamic.  One does not have to be submissive to enjoy the unique sensation of a drop of wax on one's inner wrist.  One does not have to be submissive to enjoy the feeling of clamps, stamps, needles or blades, pins, fins, broomsticks and spades.  One may enjoy these things all on one's own, or with a friend, or with a lover, with an equal, or with a stranger... there are many ways one may enjoy a kink without actually submitting to an exchange of power in the process.

Plain and simple: I am not a kinky submissive.  There are times (naturally) when fantasies arise and these fantasies do not resemble my daily routine in the least.  (I do not live in a Chateau or own a posture collar in my real world; and so these things are delicious in fantasy play.)  But I have discovered that these fantasies arise less and less frequently as I engage more and more fully with my present.  My every-day.  My heart and soul and hearth.  The LIGHT in my life.  As I begin to embrace what is lightness in my world, the darkness recedes into the distance.  It may not be such a difficult transition into the real world, after all.

Shame, Part Three

Shame as kink involves a phenomenon that I still find difficult to put into words.  I have a great empathy for the practice, but I do not wish to practice it.  I do, however, understand the incredibly powerful connection that arises when two people engage: shame actually fails without that incredibly powerful connection.  To put it another way, shame is evidence that the connection between two people exists.  (Of course, there are other ways to test and prove the connection.  But, shame is as good a proof as any.)

Even if the players have only just met.  Even if the players do not even know each other's names. Or even if the players have played for fifty years one way and one way only.  "Shame" as a kink is a peculiar kind of connection between two people.  Take, for example, the idea of "insult."

On one hand, if someone I have no connection to, someone I feel completely indifferent to, tells me "You, Anna, are a dog, a low-lying guttersnipe," then I feel more puzzled than anything else.  "I have no idea why you would say such a thing, but I'm not curious to find out.  Goodbye," would be my answer.  In other words, I reject the insult as irrelevant to me.  It does not strike the target.  It does not hit home.  My core is perfectly preserved.

On the other hand, if someone for whom I have great respect, or great longing, or great lust, or great need, or great dependency upon, tells me, "You, Anna, are a dog, a low-lying guttersnipe," then for a moment I actually believe those words.  I admit those words into my core.  Not permanently... but, for a time.  Just to examine them and to see if they are real.

Personally, I do not feel "turned on" by being insulted. I feel emotionally struck when I am insulted by someone I love.  Those words "hit home" with a bulls-eye target if those words come from someone I trust.  Logical or not, I admit those words.  And so it is with shame.  If shame were my kink, I could see how powerful it would feel -- how strong the connection would become in my mind, in my body, in my imagination, in my whole reality -- if the man I worshipped were to look into my eyes and say the words that would make me feel shame.  Or if he were to position my body in the way that would shame me in front of others.  Or if he were to do anything, for that matter.

The connection is the idea.  "Kink" reinforces connection.  Whether it be shame, or cuffs, or dog-collar, or equipment, or words...  Kink reinforces connection.  Shame, like any other part of D/s relationships, requires both parties to participate, both parties to consent.  In fact, consent is half the shame, indeed.

Shame, Part Two

"Kink shame" and "shame as kink" are two different things.  Some people are ashamed of their kinks; and some are turned on as a kink by the idea of shame.

I spent a great deal of my second life (the first time around) dead-ashamed of my kinks.  (I mean, the "G" word.  My first BDSM fantasies were, counter-intuitively, Gorean.  And I'd never even heard of Gor before Second Life, so this was quite an awakening.)  I was not ashamed to live my fantasies of sexual slavery and participate actively -- only ashamed to associate my fantasy self with my real self and to introduce both selves to each other.  Often, it is shame that prevents many people from integrating their first and second lives: the feelings of shame lead to this behaviour of dividing (sometimes with a violence) the two lives.  In extreme cases, it is this shame that prevents the real self from meeting the fantasy self.  Living in the closet is a painful experience: one divides the self and it doesn't feel very good.  I am sure this theory applies to more than just "kink" and Second Life.  I am sure the idea of living in the closet is more common than society would be comfortable admitting.

In my series of interviews around "shame" I met many people who keep a careful array of closets.  Closets for reasons of gender, for reasons of sexual orientation, for reasons of shame and kinks... there are many reasons a person will hide part of oneself from the rest of the world.

I know that in my case, I have struggled in the past with asserting a confident sense of self.  Second Life has really helped me achieve a better (and loveable) sense of self.  I feel more confident saying to people "I need this."  I feel more confident saying to people, "I will not tolerate this."  I know the difference between fantasy and reality: and I know that I do not want one to become the other, but I would like both to have their own special places in my life.  This took quite a bit of time to articulate, finally.  Naturally, I wish that I could go back to the beginning knowing then what I know now.  Knowing that there is no shame (objectively) to wanting and desiring.  Knowing that I have a valid, loveable self that can play nice and contribute fun things.  Knowing that when someone acts like an ass, it's not because of something I did but, rather, that person is quite separately an ass regardless of me.

I'm over my kink-shame in much the same way that I am over my "invalid self" feelings.  I know I have a lot of people to thank for this.  I'm grateful for each and every one of them.

Only Connect

The guiding principle behind E. M. Forster's Howard's End, "Only Connect."  I have attended a discussion today about Shelf-Sitting Submissives, a phenomenon whereby a submissive waits (almost interminably) for her dominant to come back and pay attention to her, requiring the underlying assumptions: a) there is no communication about how and when the Dominant will arrive, b) there is no communication about if the Dominant will arrive, c) there is no communication about what kind of waiting is actually required of the submissive i.e. is the submissive allowed to entertain the company of other dominants (chastely or otherwise), and is the submissive allowed to entertain the company of other submissives (to discuss the ways of the world and the mechanics of the D/s lifestyle from peer-perspectives); and/or d) there is no communication about anything else that is terribly important to the feelings, heart, soul, and well-being of both parties in the D/s relationship.  There is no communication, really, and it makes a person feel really low.  Unimportant.  No longer valued.  Not a priority.  Unloved... depending on the self-esteem of the person to begin with.

Only connect.  I am protected by a Dominant who expects me to communicate.  Regularly.  I am protected by a Dominant who has a set, fixed time that I can reasonably expect to meet him in-world.  I am protected by a Dominant who expects me to transparently live in such a way so that he CAN protect me: he knows where I am; he knows what I wish to learn; he knows when and why I am here; and he WANTS to know.  These expectations make me feel loved.  I am protected by a Dominant who says it is incumbent upon HIM to make sure the lines of communication remain open, and to make sure that I obey his expectations about keeping in communication and keeping honest and keeping the energy flow... keeping the power exchange alive.  It's his responsibility; it's my submission; it is our ongoing relationship.  This requires effort and energy on his part.  This requires time invested on his part.  And time invested on my part.  And this time and investment make me feel wanted, make me feel like I'm important.  He protects me, but here's the crux:  his protection is of my feelings.  My feelings are my most vulnerable part of me, and that's what he protects with his protocol of Domination.  He makes sure my feelings are healthy, fine, wanted, and attended to.  This is how he protects me, and this is what protection means.  Only connect -- it's not a secret to a healthy relationship... it is available to everybody.

Jealousy, Part Four

Jealousy is complicated not only by confusing feelings but also by the impetus to behave in ways unnatural to our own core, golden, untouchable self.  Jealousy (the feeling) is complicated by jealousy (the behaviour).  Often, people do not even examine or admit their jealousy (feeling) but, rather, demonstrate jealousy (behaviour) that they believe to be perfectly natural behaviour such as baking a cake (a little too angrily) or shutting a door (so loudly that the windows shatter).  The jealous man who becomes a little more violent towards the woman he cares for (because it's easy to take out his anger on her; she loves him and she won't fight back) is a classic example, one that was taken for granted back in the North American 20th Century.  (In fact, watching any movies from the 1950s and 1960s and 1970s will demonstrate how women slap men's faces in petulance just as often as men slap women down to the floor in a jealous rage... And there was a time when a man's slap on the face of another man signalled a duel to the death.  Obviously, people solve problems by hitting when the maturation process is stalled).

But what about the jealous woman who does not hit the man she loves?  She feels her jealousy rising: she knows that a woman from his past has resurfaced.  She knows that, in their former relationship, that other woman had no limits to her experimentation process.  She knows that the woman's no-limit ideas about experimentation really turned him on, at the time.  She knows that, being an open-minded man that he is, he might entertain the idea of dining with that woman while she's in town, just to catch up.  She doesn't like that possible scenario, and so she feels like bringing his attention back home.  She puts herself into unfamiliar situations in order to traverse the landscape of the human heart over to where he exists.  She puts herself into unrealistic situations in order to prove that she, too, can experiment.  She puts herself at risk, therefore, straying far from her normal boundaries and behaviour.  She puts herself at risk for his sake, for the sake of keeping him away from the adventurous woman.  It is jealous behaviour.  It is behaviour that arises out of the anxiety over losing him (a fictional worry, of course, since in this case he has no intention of leaving).  It is jealous behaviour arising from jealous motivation.  And it puts herself at risk.

If this woman believes that the Dom she courts still has feelings for an ex-lover, she might find herself involved in a (self-positioned) contest with this invisible ideal -- an ideal that she feels she needs to exceed in order to win his full attention.  "To be as good as, or better than, the other woman," goes the contest.  It's flattering to the Dom to have a girl who tries so hard, obviously.  More to the point, if the Dom can put his ego to one side, it's dangerous if the girl's motivation is not clear.  And, if her motivation isn't clear, and if she's doing something to compromise her safety, then that means her sanity is in question.  She's not behaving like a submissive; she's behaving like a reactionary jealous woman.   And if she's not behaving like a submissive but, rather, a reactionary jealous woman, then can her Dom fully believe in her submission at all?  Or can she, herself?   The reverse also: can a jealous Dom be trusted in his domination if he makes decisions based on jealousy?  Can either Dom or sub conduct a sane relationship without talking about this?

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In other news, I want to call attention to a blog I have just discovered.  Conor's Corner is the name of it, and it is such a pleasure to read.  I enjoy it frequently, the common-sense approach and the great care with explaining ideas that, often, people just take for granted.  This will be another standard entry in my reading list.

Lovely Blog, Lovely Ponies

If you have not yet read my friend Ara's blog, A slut's storyboard, you are missing out.  Her poetry is well-crafted and powerful.  Well-crafted and powerful enough to teach me a thing or two about this D/s lifestyle, in fact one thing in particular that nobody has yet been able to impart to me.  There is a pony phenomenon that  I have learned about in Second Life especially through the careful administrations of Sir RB upon his little pony girls (and I am not one such girl, but I have met such girls).  I could not understand the phenomenon.  Even as I read Anne Rice's Beauty trilogy, I still could not understand the nature of the pony-girl phenomenon; the relevance of the pony-girl phenomenon; the desire to be a part of the pony-girl phenomenon.  And there are very explicit and detailed fantasy pages devoted especially to this kink!  Anne Rice does not disappoint, if you are into that sort of thing.  But, for me... not to judge it, not to disparage it, and especially not to negate its validity, I simply could not empathize with that particular urge or appetite, and I was convinced I would never be able to.  (Sympathize, yes I can -- there are many kinks in the world, and the world takes all kinds of people to make it go around... Nobody's safe, sane and consensual kink is a freak-show, in my opinion. But empathize, I simply could not.  I just did not understand the impetus to prance.)

Until I read Ara's post! 

I get it now.  It is simply another way to demonstrate one's discipline.  It is simply another way to demonstrate one's fitness.  It is simply another way to demonstrate one's showmanship.  To display.  To perform.  To sweat in the service of someone in a private language shared only between you both.  It is an immediate transformation into the dreamscape of fantasy and the concretized need of the submissive to serve, and to serve with many body parts all at once.  There are many points of access now, as I consider it.  I do not wish to experiment, personally; however I do understand that, as a submissive, I share very VERY similar urges and appetites which I demonstrate in different areas of display.  We are not so very different in your kinks and mine, you pretty ponies of the world, only in our display of them.

I mention Ara's blog because, bless her, she nominated me for a "Lovely Blog" award.  There are rules to follow for this and I am afraid I do not have the ability to follow them at the moment.  I have wanted for a few days to recognize the nomination, though, and to link back to Ara's gorgeous and perfectly poetic blog.

Safe, Sane, Consensual

Safe.  A white room, well - lit.  A soft floor.  The security of my bindings, and the freedom to move around, testing the environment.  How does it feel to walk like this.  How does it feel to breathe this new air.  How does it feel with my body vulnerable to You.  How does it feel to trust You.  Will you listen to my limits?  Will you say, out loud, that You protect my limits?  Will you say, out loud, that You will do nothing to tease me about having limits?  You will do nothing to push my limits, because my limits are there to prevent pushing?  There is a whole, big, beautiful room to explore; there is no need to see what is behind the door.  The door is shut for a reason: and that reason is mine.  I feel safe in this room.  I feel safe with my limits, and with how well You respect my limits, and love my limits, because they are part of me.

Sane.  Nice, straight lines.  Regimented, regular schedule.  Proper proportion, moderation, and balance.  The horizon is a straight line, and everything flows from the line that extends into forever.  Private time to meditate and contemplate: to process what I have learned, and to turn back towards You and smile, understanding.  You have shown me.  My future You, my present me loves You for the nice, straight lines, regimented and regular schedule, and Your moderation and balance.  We do nothing that we have not talked about.  We do nothing that You cannot control.  Everything that we do is a measure of Your control.  Everything that we do is evidence of Your mastery of self, and mastery of me.

Consensual Consent.  I bear my burden willingly.  The chains about my neck are light.  The bindings at my feet are anchors, not weights.  You take from me what I would willingly give: You take from me all that I have, and curiously it simply fills me with more.  The Private Garden where You tend is full of me.  The vessel of secrets is capped until You open it and find me, a pool of wanting, rippling therein.  I am so easy to decipher, for You.  I am, for others, hieroglyphs without the guiding stone; monuments without meaning.  The brambles and the thorns, the teeth and the rats' nests, the Medusa head and the stone statues of men that line the garden path... I wander past souls of the troubled, and I try to keep my heart intact.  When there is only You.  Only ever was.  Only ever will be.  When I finally find You, it will be a moment of awakening, and then I will cry out YES  once more, and these dreams will be forgotten.

To know and to love

This is a picture of my journey.  I wish the sim were still open, where I had taken this photograph.  Interesting to note that there was nothing to change about it.  I added a frame, my name, and called it pretty. (Sometimes the photographs that I take in Second Life are just perfect on their own.  Sometimes I feel like a good photographer, not just a good digital artist.)   I have been waiting to see what to do with this image: and now I realize, this is a picture of my submission.  I walk an unfamiliar landscape: unfamiliar, even alien-looking to what I am used to on Earth.  Some of the planks are rickety and old (values that are worn-out and under-examined for their relevance today); and some of the planks are strong and sturdy (lessons, fresh thinking, and small victories along the way that prop up the process).  In the top right quadrant, I wander.  I am in no hurry.  I look at what is around me and I learn.  Bottom right quadrant: the butterflies, the metamorphosis.  The change.  The beauty that awaits.  The bottom left quadrant: green foliage, green space, organic growth that represents life and living and the symbiosis of relationships.  Upper left quadrant:  the elegant, elaborate, carefully-constructed screen that follows me -- blocks my view of certain things, shields me from certain things, protects me from foul winds, or reveals things to me slowly at the right pace.  That shield is valuable.  It is not a hindrance.  That shield is human-constructed and elegant.

This is also a picture of my journey.   It is a picture of contemplation, experimentation, and tests.  (The toes in the water test like no other test...)  The crossed arms love like no other love.  The reflection in the water shows myself to me.  And I have learned in the last 48 hours to love, love, love the good person looking back.

Most of my journey is intellectual.  A little bit -- more and more -- is emotional.  When I began the journey, I had no idea what scope, what vast acreage of landscape, there would be to learn and explore in the D/s lifestyle.  I had no idea it was more than kneeling, devotion, and prayer that I would "be enough."  I had no idea the fulfillment would be so intense; nor the emptinesses that become more pronounced.  I had no idea that, when I finally asked, I would finally receive.  I've been told -- and it's been proven -- that I'm allowed to ask, and I'm allowed to receive, and that it's more than okay:  it's gratifying.

I want to take you for granted

I sat back today and considered a few things.  There are words that we speak but people do not understand them.  Or, people put their own spin on them.  Or, people mis-hear them.  Or, people forget that we spoke them.  Or a hundred other ways that people may mis-communicate.  And it occurs to me that a solid relationship is not just about finding someone whose interests match, whose temper matches, whose sense of humour (or sense of the macabre!) matches.  It's also about finding someone who communicates in the same way -- and who understands communication in the same way.  I think about all the different ways a person can understand the term, "to take for granted" and I shudder at all the different ways such a phrase can turn sour.  "To take as granted," or "to feel as though it is simply granted, no waiting, no request," or "to take without asking," or "to assume based on a history of past decisions."  When I think about You, I imagine the sentence as the latter definition.  A history of past decisions, of past consistencies, of past agreements, of past affirmations, of past pleasures, of past anticipations, that history between us makes me take You for granted.  Makes You able to take me for granted.  Willingly.

Something in other news, related only by language:
I read today some passages about erotic humiliation.  No reason; I simply wished to see how the other half lives, I suppose.  It amused me to see, "Require permission to do anything" as listed in the erotic humiliation category.  And then I had to sit back and start considering a few things, which spawned this post.  "Derogatory words like slut and whore" and "use as a piece of furniture" are erotic humiliation just as is "requiring permission to do anything."  Then it exploded like a giant, fiery dawn at the break of day:  so many of the online BDSM attitudes in Second Life involve the erotic humiliation of submissives, whether they wish it or not.  Even beyond BDSM, the Gorean enslavement of women online is predicated upon this theory (i.e a Gorean slave is trained to ask permission for every minute thing, feel comfortable wearing the title "slut" and feel comfortable serving as furniture without the respect due humans-- a sexy enough fantasy with the right practitioners).  No wonder there is such confusion and lack of clarity in the world: people take it for granted that this one way is the established way, never question it or interrogate it or challenge it (because it goes against erotic humiliation for a submissive to exercise a challenge function) and the online community of BDSM continues to be full of libraries that propagate erotic humiliation of submissives -- whether the submissive wants it or not.  It was quite a eureka, this idea of what we take for granted.  What we want to take for granted.  What we do take for granted without even realizing it.  I'm not sure I need to ask permission for every single thing.  And, I'm not sure I need humiliating words like "slut" and "whore" to feel stimulated into arousal.  That's just me, though.  The "place him or her in a cage" part of erotic humiliation most definitely has a place in my vocabulary, under the right circumstances.  And, well, "naked in public" feeds more than a simple desire for display that I am, apparently, cultivating.

Backwards, Frontwards, Side to Side

It's been quite a day.  And there's nothing like talking to a real friend on a real kind of ... strange day.  I wanted to know about the role of love in submission, especially in the virtual world.  "Can you give yourself and still be independent?" my mentor asked me, challenging me to enjoy the feeling of a man without giving myself away.  And I enjoyed the feeling of a man.  And it feels like so long ago, but it is only just over a week, now.  "One more thing," she says to me, "do not fall in love with him."  That must mean that love is a part of submission.  Love can be a part of submission, rather.  It must mean that love risks being a part of submission, and that a person risks falling in love when perhaps love is not the bargain domination negotiates.
I started this journey, as I was reminded today by Sir RB, with the directive of "no love, please."  And I remember vividly saying to many people, "It's not  your love I'm looking for."  And I don't think that's changed, to be honest.  I do not think it is love that I am missing: but I do know that I am not cut out for a casual arrangement.  I do expect to be somebody's priority, because when I submit I make that man my priority.  I clarified today (thank you Sir RB, the conversation was precisely what I needed) that I spend a great deal of time erecting defenses against the possibility of being hurt (which would be a regular occurence if I did not erect these defenses; there are cruel people in the world), instead of privileging the aftermath of experience.  To privilege the guard-against means that I shall never really experience.  To privilege the aftermath means that I shall, in time, equip myself with the tools required to heal and to mend and to repair and to enjoy.  I have been doing things backwards, in other words.  I'm still not convinced that by doing the opposite I will actually be going forwards; I feel like I'm staggering to the side a little.  I know, however, that I am still on the right path towards You, mighty You, the You I know knows me.  Forgive me, I beg, if I take a little longer to get there.

It's not necessarily love that I need.  In fact, I'm sure it is not love that I need. It is love that I feel, though; and I'm now beginning to clarify things in my mind.  It's not love that I need; it's time and privilege.  It is love that I have to give, when I submit.  And what I need is consistency: time and privilege, dedicated time and dedicated priority.  I do need to be somebody's priority.  I do need that.  I have needs, and that is one of them.  Priority when he is here.  Priority when we have established a routine of inviolable time to share.  Not a monopoly but a scheduled priority.  My submission and my love are not very far different from each other; and I do not expect a virtual dom to understand it or reciprocate it -- but I do expect it to be valued, consistently, as part of who I am.  I think it is what makes me a desirable submissive.  And to that end, a consistent one.  Which means, it's time I communicate  a little bit now.  And so I shall.
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In other news, in my frenzy to try to understand the mind of a dom, before I was lucky enough to score Sir RB's attention, I started reading notecards from a library in Second Life.  I was instantly disheartened, but then I realized "Hah, it's not really surprising."  Check out the first line in one of the notecards, and I quote:  "Dominance is a primitive part of the human psyche.  To plug into this primitive role, you have to appear strong.  So be as strong as you can.  Then fake the rest."   And then it goes on to say, "Strong people have wants, but not needs."   There is another notecard from the same library, "How to be a good top."  I turn my attention to that.  It poses the question, what do you do with a submissive you have tied up?  "You can be stern and commanding, sympathetic but nasty, jolly yet sadistic... anything you please."   My initial reaction to reading this?  "Not with me, you can't."  Whoever wrote these wrote them with absolutely no forethought about what it means to engage meaningfully in a long-term negotiated D/s relationship.  And now the highly questionable experiences I have endured in this world make a lot more sense, given what is out there instructing people.

In still other news, the landscapes in this post are of the Journey to Domination and submission sim that Genny (my mentor) owns and operates.  I have given her a bunch of fresh landscape shots because it has been a while since I have photographed some beautiful land.  I was chatting today about how the principles of photography (perspective, light, focal point and level of interest) are also the principles of any human relationship, not just relationship between subject and beholder.  I process a great many things when I am engaged in an intensity of focus on a picture.

What is submission?

My very most excellent mentor led a discussion (has been leading a series of discussions, actually, each Tuesday evening) and yesterday was 3 of 4 on The Story of O.  Yesterday's discussion focused on "Domination" in the novel.  Genny kept asking variations on the same question, "Where is the domination?"  Systematically she made her way through every so-called dominant in the story and the behaviour of each one, posing the question:  "Is this domination?"  The quotations she pulled from the story successfully challenge the notions of domination and submission that I have come to learn about (and, given some of the reactions in the group, some of the notions that LOTS of people have come to learn about and hold as true, unshakable, and sacred).  The fundamental principle of "legitimate" D/s is that it is a safe, sane, and consensual practice, and the unspoken assumption in that dynamic is that both Dom and sub have equal voices in determining what is sane, what is safe, and what is consensual.  The complicating dynamic in The Story of O can be seen in this one passage, in part 1, just after Rene tells O that her submission will be obtained "in spite of" her, that her submission will be forced from her:  "O was on the verge of saying that she was his slave and that she bore her bonds cheerfully.  He stopped her."  This one little dynamic -- O's urge to submit herself, which would frustrate the men's intentions of slavery -- complicates the rest of the novel in terms of submission, slavery, and what domination "really" is.

I have long struggled with categorizing O's participation at Roissy:  sometimes the men say she is free to leave, and yet she is chained to her room at night removing any idea of personal freedom.  Conversely, the reader begins to understand that not all chains are visible: privately, we get the impression that there is no way O would prematurely leave Roissy anyway, even if she were unchained, because hers is a kind of love that makes her endure whatever her lover expects of her.  She is so in love with Rene that, regardless of what the men do to liberate or enslave her, her personal code prevents her from leaving Roissy anyway.  To say it another way, it doesn't matter how many chains the Roissy men equip: O would not leave.  It doesn't matter how many men it takes to force her to kneel and service them:  O doesn't require force to obey.  (Can you enslave the willing?)  She will, accordingly, endure whatever the men do to her, no matter how painful and no matter the length of time.  Whatever lines exist between slavery and submission are blurred in this novel, it's true, and speaking as a North American I would say that even the new-world's view of D/s and modern romance are also challenged.  Rene demands that for which it is impossible to consent (he says the very words himself), and yet O insists that she consents, that she loves him, that she would do anything for him.  She is determined to consent (to submit); and the men are determined to objectify and remove consent (to enslave).  The question for me now, in my journey of learning, is whether a woman can submit under those circumstances. Is it logically possible to offer submission to someone who hears (and accepts) something completely different?  Or who doesn't hear or accept at all, for that matter.

The element of the novel that challenged my preconceptions the most (last night, at the discussion, thanks entirely to my mentor) is this very idea of submission in the face of slavery.  The tension in the novel between consent and the wholesale absence of rights and freedoms* was once to me an interesting plot device, but as of last night it is now an all-engaging thought process that occupies me concerning the very nature of submission.  I wrote in this blog two days ago that I had surrendered "even though you are not here."  The idea of submission, to me, changes with that statement:  I know that it is possible to submit -- that it is possible for me to do my half of the job -- even if I'm the only person in the room.  I know that it is possible for me to make that agreement in my mind:  "When you speak, I will obey; I will surrender control; I will yield to you; I want to yield; I need to yield; whenever you speak, I will yield and I am so grateful."  I know that it is possible for me to make this agreement and to not know the answer from "him", whether or not he will accept and act upon my submission.  What if he doesn't accept and act upon it? Does it invalidate my statement that I would yield?  No, he's a free-thinking man with his own definitions of safe, sane, and consensual:  and I am a free-thinking woman with my own definitions of safe, sane, and consensual.  Whether or not he accepts my submission, I have given it.  It is a cake in a box beside strewn flowers on the porch of the one who might enjoy it.  If he's home, and if he answers the door, and if he is hungry, and if he is pleased, then we are in synch!  If he's not home, OR if he refuses to answer the door, OR if he's simply not hungry, then there is no synchronicity to what we have to offer each other (and there are so many variables to determine synchronicity that it's amazing anybody ever gets it right).  None of this changes my surrender.  If he leaves his house and goes on vacation, never even noticing the cake and strewn flowers upon his porch, it would be a bit of a waste, this gift I offer, to say the least -- physically, anyway.  But it doesn't change my offering it.  And it's not a waste to me, emotionally.  Logically.  And I do not take back the offer, petulantly, if he rejects it.  It was offered.  It is offered.  It remains.  I am there with it.  And, naturally, I have surrendered to every possible future, accordingly.

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*Quoted from the novel:  "you are not free but fettered."  She is not free: she is enslaved, objectively.  Once the men pronounce that, it becomes objective fact.  And yet, she consents to be there, subjectively.  What if this is not simply a plot device but, rather, O's free-will determining her own submission even in the face of those who would enslave her?  What if this is the touchstone to understanding submission on a grand scale?


From Part 1: The Lovers of Roissy.  "[...] Your hands are not your own, nor are your breasts, nor, most especially, any of your bodily orifices, which we may explore or penetrate at will. You will remember at all times - or as constantly as possible - that you have lost all right to privacy or concealment, and as a reminder of this fact, in our presence you will never close your lips completely, or cross your legs, or press your knees together (you may recall you were forbidden to do this the minute you arrived). This will serve as a constant reminder, to you as well as to use, that your mouth, your belly, and your backside are open to us. You will never touch your breasts in our presence: the bodice raises them toward us, that they may be ours. During the day you will therefore be dressed, and if anyone should order you to lift your skirt, you will lift it; if anyone desires to use you in any manner whatsoever, he will use you, unmasked, but with this one reservation: the whip. The whip will be used only between dusk and dawn. But besides the whipping you receive from whoever may want to whip you, you will also be flogged in the evening, as punishment for any infractions of the rules committed during the day: for having been slow to oblige, for having raised your eyes and looked at the person addressing you or taking you - you must never look any of us in the face. If the costume we wear in the evening - the one I am now wearing - leaves our sex exposed, it is not for the sake of convenience, for it would be just as convenient the other way, but for the sake of insolence, so that your eyes will be directed there upon it and nowhere else, so that you may learn that there resides your master, for whom, above all else, your lips are intended. During the day, when we are dressed in normal attire and you are clothed as you are now, the same rules will apply, except that when requested you will open your clothes, and then close them again when we have finished with you. Another thing: at night you will have only your lips with which to honor us - and your wide-spread thighs - for your hands will be tied behind your back and you will be naked, as you were a short while ago. You will be blindfolded only to be maltreated and, now that you have seen how you are whipped, to be flogged. And yes, by the way: while it is perfectly all right for you to grow accustomed to being whipped - since you are going to be every day throughout your stay - this is less for our pleasure than for your enlightenment. How true this is may be shown by the fact that on those nights when no one desires you, you will wait until the valet whose job it is comes to your solitary cell and administers what you are due to receive but we are not in the mood to mete out. Actually, both this flogging and the chain - which when attached to the ring of your collar keeps you more or less closely confined to your bed several hours a day - are intended less to make you suffer, scream, or shed tears than to make you feel, through this suffering, that you are not free but fettered, and to teach you that you are totally dedicated to something outside yourself. When you leave here, you will be wearing on your third finger an iron ring, which will identify you. Bu then you will have learned to obey those who wear the same insignia, and when they see it they will know that beneath your skirt you are constantly naked, however comely or commonplace your clothes may be, and that this nakedness is for them. Should anyone find you in the least intractable, he will return you here. Now you will be shown to your cell."  [...]  The more he surrendered her, the more he would hold her dear. The fact that he gave her was to him a proof, and ought to be one for her as well that she belonged to him: one can only give what belongs to you. He gave her only to reclaim her immediately, to reclaim her enriched in his eyes, like some common object which had been used for some divine purpose and has thus been consecrated. For a long time he had wanted to prostitute her, and he was delighted to feel that the pleasure he was deriving was even greater than he had hoped, and that it bound him to her all the more, as it bound her to him, all the more so because, through it, she would be more humiliated and ravaged. Since she loved him, she could not help loving whatever derived from him. O listened and trembled with happiness, because he loved her, all acquiescent she trembled. He doubtless guessed it, for he went on:

"It's because it's easy for you to consent that I want from you what it will be impossible for you to consent to, even if you agree ahead of time, even if you say yes now and imagine yourself capable of submitting. You won't be able not to revolt. Your submission will be obtained in spite of you, not only for the inimitable pleasure that I and others will derive from it, but also that you will be made aware of what has been done to you."  O was on the verge of saying that she was his slave and that she bore her bonds cheerfully. He stopped her.  "Yesterday you were told that as long as you are in the château you are not to look a man in the face of speak to him. The same applies to me as well: with me you shall remain silent and obey. I love you. Now get up. From now on the only times that you will open your mouth here in the presence of a man will be to cry out or to caress."

Temptation and Surrender

Temptation is a taut bow.  Temptation is a strung violin. Temptation is a high-wire.  Temptation is a knife's blade. Temptation is a red, ripe sheen on the tight skin of an apple, promising crisp, sweet relief.  Temptation is a finger sliding beneath the strap that had no finger-room until he pushed it through.  Temptation is hair pulled straight down, arching a back to a perfect curve.  Temptation is a little droplet upon the lips, waiting for the tongue.  Temptation is the gaze waiting for the blink.  Temptation is the push, waiting for the penetration.  Temptation is the pull, waiting for the release.  Temptation is grip on one wrist, waiting for the grip upon the second wrist.  Temptation is the raised crop, waiting for the swift-wishing cut.  Temptation is the whip raised, waiting for the whistled-air crack.  Temptation is the rip, waiting for the eyes to look upon the torn clothing, how much damage...

Temptation is a turned back, feeling the breath from behind.  Temptation is a favourite toy, handle-forward, waiting on the table.  Temptation is what I can smell.  Temptation is what I think it feels like.  Temptation is what I want it to feel like.  Temptation is making a big hole where I know I've never felt it.  Temptation is stupid with longing.  Temptation is the feeling of a strand of hair falling from my shoulder, grazing my lower back, and me mistaking it for your hand, and me groaning louder than I thought warranted such a simple, small thing.  Temptation is a clear picture, sharp edges, perfect clarity between all the lines.  Temptation is a blindfold, suddenly jerked a little too tightly.  Temptation is a voice in my ear, suddenly, when I thought there was nobody there.  Temptation is what I look like, standing in heels, my bra loosely strung from my fingertips.  Temptation is what I look like, standing in heels, wrists bound, my bra loosely strung from my fingertips.  Temptation is what I look like, standing in heels, wrists bound, lips parted, my bra loosely strung from my fingertips.  Temptation is wondering when my lips will feel the kiss.  And surrender is what I've just done, even though you aren't here.

Self-Esteem from Self-Control

Why spend so much time exploring self-esteem?  I wish the answer to that question were not so obvious in my own experiences with people.  Anyway, the more I read about "The Master's Viewpoint" by Dennis Najee, the more I realize how much really depends upon self-esteem.  A healthy relationship depends upon it.  A healthy self-image depends upon it.  A healthy outlook on life depends upon it.  Personal expectations of how people treat us in the world depend upon it.  And, of course, relevant to the D/s community, a healthy experience at play or in communication depends upon it.  "No man is in a position of dominance if he cannot control himself," says Mr. Najee, and with that I wholly agree.  And, by controlling himself, it means what he eats; how much he eats; what he does for exercise; how much he exercises; whether he is in control over his emotions during periods of stress; whether he is in touch with his emotions during periods of affection; whether he abuses narcotics; whether he over-indulges in intoxicants; and whether he thinks that it is safe to interact with other people when he is drunk with control-sapping stimulants.  "Lack of control on the part of the dominant is a sign of weakness."   I have trusted people, inching as I did towards more and more control surrendered to them, only to have them lose control entirely one way or another.  They stopped listening to me, to the word "no".  They stopped speaking sanely.  They stopped being trustworthy.  When someone I trust loses personal control, I no longer trust.  Is a submissive supposed to negotiate in good faith with that person?  A submissive who, in good faith, does take care of her mind and body; who does make sure she adheres to codes of respect for her own body as well as the bodies of others; whose mindset is about bringing beauty, not fear.  Christian Grey, in Fifty Shades of Grey, has it right:  he has dominated his life so that things are under control.  His finances are healthy; his food is healthy; his exercise is healthy; he drinks wine from time to time; he even strives for healthier energy sources globally, that's how healthy he wants things to be.  He strives.  (Love the book or hate the book, Christian's outward character is formidable, and it is one viable basis upon which to grow a relationship.)

When one masters self-control, one feels pretty good about oneself.  Self-mastery  turns us into worthy partners in play; worthy partners in fantasy; worthy partners in exploration and mutual gratification.  It means I can trust the man You say You are.  It means I can feel good about surrendering control.  (And otherwise it ain't happening.)  It means Joe Dominant's domination is effective, not hypocritical and weak.  It means Cutie Submissive's submission is real, not a nymphomaniacal collar-hop perpetually seeking the honey-moon.  Words I will adhere to as I have done throughout this whole learning process:  "The BDSM lifestyle," writes Mr. Najee,  "is one where you are free to choose what you desire.  All avenues are open to you.  The key is to make the proper choices for what fits your needs.  Implant the image of what you want in your head and work towards bringing it into reality.  There is no reason why you cannot do this.  However, before focusing outward, take a look at yourself."

Self-Esteem from Clarity

I enjoy meditating upon the idea of clarity.  I clarify things that I say almost to the point of redundancy.  I know it annoys some; and others find it charming.  But I have been trained to say what I mean as part of my personal make-up and professional discipline.  It occurs to me lately that self-esteem is directly linked to one's ability to articulate one's universe.  If I can say precisely how I feel at any particular time, I can experience my own sense of worth.  Many factors influence "whether I can say precisely how I feel".   Who I'm speaking with; what I have to say; how important someone else believes it to be; how important I believe it to be; how difficult it is to say what I feel; how hurt someone else might be to hear it; how happy someone else might be to hear it.  So many variables.  "Courage of conviction," and "speaking truth to power," as well as "le mot juste" all travel with this idea.  The most important variable, I think, might be the ability to "know thyself."
Sometimes I hear people say, "I feel weird," when asked how they feel about something.  Weird isn't a feeling, really, so that is an inadequate statement to make about something so personal.  One's feelings are sacred: it increases self-esteem to be able to articulate them properly.  "I feel afraid," is a big, big deal to be able to say.  "I feel happy," equally important.  The most difficult of all, of course, is "I feel angry and it is because of this very specific reason."

It all rests, naturally, upon one's ability to be able to feel entitled to these feelings.  I think it's fair to say that feelings are fairly genuine: they come unbidden, they are irrational, they don't listen to reason when they first surface, they are the opposite and equal reaction to that which happens in the world.  Like it or not, feelings are an important barometer.   Sure, they are controllable, deniable, push-away-able if one tries very hard.  But the fact that they arise in the first place is a good indication of something to examine.  Even later, if it's easier with time.  I remember the first time I realized that I felt like I wasn't playing enough, playful enough, enjoying enough.  I felt incomplete, and I felt aroused in a way that could not be satisfied.  It made me feel anxious.  It made me feel even a little angry, which I could not justify at the time.  I had vague, unspecified yearnings, a very tiny inkling of what it would be that might soothe my imagination and buff the rough edges from my appetite.  Eventually the picture in my mind came into sharp focus after I was introduced to Shibari in Second Life.  It was a gorgeous fantasy.  It coloured every vague corner of my imagination and brought new life to my fantasy world.  It brought clarity to my thinking and to my feeling.  (I am perfectly convinced that it was the Master at the time, as much as the ropes, who is responsible for that extremely good reaction in me.  I have never tried it since, terrified of the results that might arise from someone less than him.)  Bondage done right gives me a fine-point perspective and perfect clarity.  Because of that fine point clarity, because of those emotions named and controlled by their naming, I feel free.........