Rivers of Snot

Over the past year, I have both cut out a considerable amount of my social involvement with my local kink community and acquired an in-state sex partner (we'll call him ISSP).  This has left me with less fodder for writing here, unless I were to turn my asexuality blog into a sex blog.  Which, for numerous reasons, I don't want to do.  An elaboration on that might be a post for another day, but not today.

Today I'm going to write about rivers of snot.

ISSP and I were talking the other day, and wandered onto the topic of crying.  Specifically, bawling like a three year old, rivers of snot-style crying.  He was using this as a description of unsexy crying.  I maintained that more context was required to determine whether it was sexy or unsexy crying.  He looked befuddled.

Don't get me wrong.  Uncontrollable sobbing, in and of itself, is not particularly sexy.  It's messy, it's graceless, it's profoundly awkward*.  No argument there.

So what's hot about it?  The rawness.  The vulnerability.   I really dig emotional intensity.  For me, I think that the emotions themselves end up being secondary to the intensity.  Delving into that sort of intensity in a reasonably controlled and safe setting is just fantastic.

To get that messy and graceless is to let some pretty substantial walls come down.  Forcing those walls to come down in an erotic context is absolutely hot- at least for me.

Even if it does involve rivers of snot.

-----

*Know what else tends to be messy, graceless, and profoundly awkward?  Fucking.  Seriously.

What We Say, What We Do

Different people have different skill sets.  Some folks are skilled with needles.  Some folks are skilled with rope bondage.  Some folks are skilled with psychological play.  And while we can all generally improve our skill sets, some of us are going to max out in a less adept place than others will.

And we only will be cognizant of that some of the time.  It's one of those things that's pretty tricky to to be meaningfully self-honest and self-aware about.  Hell, it's one of those things that's tricky to get solid, objective feedback on.  So very, very few people will think of themselves as a dumbass.  Or a predator.

And yet, "Don't be a dumbass" and "Don't be a predator" are often given as stand-alone safety/logic warnings.  Which would be would be perfectly great and sufficient were it not for that part where nobody self-identifies as such.  It will damn near always be read as a warning for somebody else.  You know, those other people over there.  The dumbasses, the predators.  Not me.

I have no qualms with people putting information/content/ideas out there that are not appropriate for all skill levels.  I support greater access to information and education, from introductory through advanced levels.  Breath play is a particular area where this has been in my awareness.  While many folks argue that breath play is simply too dangerous to teach, it's also the kind of play that many, many people- both in and out of the kink scene- practice at home.  With or without education.  Given this, I think that more information is the decidedly preferable option- questions of legal liability for the educator aside.  Recently, my thoughts on this trajectory have gotten complicated.

In addition to pictures of funny cats, the internet has brought us all sorts of photos of edge play.  Since most of my photo-perving time is devoted to rope bondage, that's what I'm most familiar with in this regard.  We have strappado suspensions, predicament ties with bottoms perched precariously on tall structures, and suspensions in which one of the primary load-bearing points is the throat.  All carry very real risks of injury requiring months to recover- or worse.  And I firmly believe that all of those are risks which people can assess and choose to accept.

In addition to Bondage101, kink education has brought us all sorts of techniques for edge play.  We have classes on gun play, abductions, and explicit limit-pushing.  It's the latter that has sparked a discussion that keeps popping up on my kinky internet feed.  The discussion started after a friend of mine attended a class on this topic by at a conference.  Based particularly on personal accounts from folks who have played with the presenter in question, the discussion does not seem to be about the presenter's ability to do these things in a way that is as safe as possible.  The focus seems to be instead on the danger of putting these tools and techniques in the hands of a mixed audience.

So what's the sweet spot?  How can information be made accessible to those who can use it well, without unwittingly encouraging people to make higher-risk decisions which they really are not equipped to make?

I know that I, for one, am interested in more information on things like breath play, higher-risk rope bondage, and limit-pushing.  Preferably all at once.  But only with highly trusted partners.  And my partners and I should be able to make those decision for ourselves.  Because we're not dumbasses or predators!

Oh, right.  That again.

I don't have an answer.  I'm extremely uncomfortable with the notion of censorship (whether external or self-imposed) in the name of keeping people from ideas and information that have been deemed unacceptably dangerous.  On the other hand, we are social creatures prone to imitation.  I know that I'm often inspired by play I see in the dungeons, classes, or represented online- I expect at least a few others are as well.  As subsets of the kink community race to one-up each other with the next edgy, dangerous thing, I expect that the baseline of perceived risk will shift.

I expect that this is a conversation which will continue to unfold both in my own mind and the broader kink community.  Hopefully it will unfold with minimal harm and maximum hotness.

Negotiating On The Fly

I kind of love pet play.  Not in a sexual way, not even in an erotic way.  But in the way that it totally shakes up communication and expectations between people.

Last year's kitty room at Shibaricon left me thinking about this trajectory, and it popped into my awareness again the other night after going to a local party with the MOST ADORABLE (human) PUPPY and her human friend.  They'd sat next to me for a bit in the dungeon as I was watching some hot ropey action.  The pup was on the floor between the chair that I was sitting in and the chair in which her human friend was sitting.  Since, as we've covered, I kind of love pet play, I leaned over and asked human friend if I could pet his puppy.  And he said yes!  And so I reached down and started scritching behind her ears.

In this case, the pup in question leaned right into the scritches.  I told her what a good girl she was and moved behind her other ear.  More happy leaning and nuzzling against my hand.  No words.  No traditional negotiation.  But clear communication.

And here is where I think some of the real beauty of pet play is.  I think that we all take for granted that non-human animals don't really need to bother with social niceties.  If they're into it, they'll tell you.  Clearly.  By leaning into it enthusiastically.  By play bowing, pouncing, by rolling around at your feet.  And if they're not into it, they'll tell you.  Clearly.  By growling, by hissing, by disengaging without any need to apologize or explain their reasons.  And it's totally okay either way.

And sure, in theory, humany humans can also growl, walk away, or otherwise disengage without any need to apologize or explain their reasons.  But I think that many of us, for any number of reasons, are uncomfortable giving such a blunt no.  Receiving such a blunt no isn't often a terribly comfortable experience, either.  I think there's quite a damn bit of room within our culture to get better with "no."

But within this little niche of kink, things seem to be moving along a-okay in that department.  I'm unsure how much of this is my own perception, or if others have picked up on the same thing.  I will say this though- hanging out in the kitty room at Shibaricon is a fantastic study in nonverbal interactions.  It's a room full of people navigating interactions with very, very few words.  Kitties negotiating play and belly rubs with humans, negotiating kitty schenanigans or brawls with one another.  On the fly.  Without a word.

Urban Planning

"Dude, were the urban planners drunk when they laid this out?  Why is there a wall there?!"  It was an offhand comment that I made while snuggled up with a friend, but it fits pretty well.  We all have some rough idea of how to navigate cities, and what to expect.  Sure, there are some quirks that are particular to any given city.  And sometimes roads curve around in ways that you don't necessarily expect, or side roads unexpectedly dump you onto the freeway.  But on the whole, there are some basic patterns that most of us have come to count on.  Even the occasional detour is easy enough to navigate around.

The city of my psyche got laid out a little differently.  It can be a little trickier for folks that are new to the city of me to figure out how to navigate it.  If one has been so unfortunate as to not pick up the Lonely Planet guide before entering, they may be surprised to find that what they thought was a freeway on-ramp actually routes you to a park.  Surprise!  No sexy freeway for you!  But check out this cool swing set!

And while my own layout makes sense to me, I'm still struggling with where the walls are for others.  I often feel like entire parts of others' beings are walled off entirely, save for one toll bridge.  The cost? Sex.  Can't pay?  No visit to the romance district for you!

I'm not quite sure what to do with this metaphor from here.  It didn't particularly illuminate anything for me, though I think it may for others.  When food metaphors aren't adequate for explaining the way I work, it's at least another option to fall back on.

Appearances

Wow, blog!  That post from earlier today was a big pile of depressing!  So here's something less sad that I dug out of the drafts pile.  I wrote it a couple of months ago, and have no idea where I was going with it.  But here it is, probably in incomplete form, for your reading pleasure!

Working as a professional naked chick does weird things to your relationship with your body, and bodies in general.  At least it did to me.

I get that for many people, their bodies are deeply personal to them.  And why wouldn't they be?  They're the container we're in.  It's the space our minds and spirits inhabit.  We carry them with us everywhere we go.  And yeah, that's pretty personal.  So it follows that the appearance of that container, that space, would be similarly personal.

But when the thing that I was selling was that container, I inevitably changed my relationship with my body.  I've become much more utilitarian about my appearance.  Does it get the job done?  Is it bouncing light as it needs to, carrying me where I need to go, responding to sensory input in the ways I'd like it to?  Cool.  That's what it needs to do.

I'm also pretty honest- at least I think- about the limits of my body.  I don't view that as a personal failing.  There is no way that my body can be perfectly suited to everything.  It isn't.  Nobody's is.  It's suited to that which I need it to do.  And that is exactly what I want.  No more, no less.

Saying No

I've had multiple people over the years comment on how good I am at saying no.  It's kind of a weird piece of feedback to hear, and I have some conflicted feelings about it.

Mostly because I really, really do not enjoy telling people no.  That is especially true if they are somebody about whom I particularly care.  I strongly dislike the feeling that I'm disappointing them.  That feeling can easily spiral out of control for me- especially if "no" has been a frequent occurrence in that relationship.  Of course, that spiral of self-resentment and confusion puts the kibosh on any sexy inclinations that there may have been, leading to further no's, and and and....

Of course, the alternative is almost always worse than the no-spiral.  Mentally and emotionally checking out, with the detached hope it ends soon?  That's a pretty awful place to be, too.  And I'm pretty sure it's the option that has way more baggage attached.  So I say "no."

But I hate that it's played such a prominent role in my sex life.  I hate that it's a skill that I've practiced enough for it to seem noteworthy.  I hate that, while I'm apparently skilled at going through the motions of saying no, it has an emotional toll on me.  I would like very much to change that.  But I have no idea where to begin.

Snippets

What I need, as a bottom, is somebody who takes pleasure in hurting me.  Not just somebody who's doing it because it's what I'm into, but somebody who really enjoys the process of methodically working me over and seeing me in pain.

I'm not that into BDSM.

You're in my bed.  That says something.

That was the first time I've cried like that- full-out sobbing for an extended period of time?  That was new.  

Really?

Yeah.  It was the sort of catharsis that I needed.  Thank you.

I finally figured out the trick.

Oh?  What's that?

Not feeling remorse.