As I was leaning over the bathroom counter today, receiving a harsh spanking for another lapse in judgement, I had an epiphany. It had to do with the way Husband and I approach discipline and punishment, and how we view the difference between the two.
I'm going to try to articulate it, because I think there might be others out there who subscribe to the same way of thinking, or maybe realize they do after reading this, even if they've never given it much thought before.
(I certainly didn't for a long time. After you've been in a relationship for a long enough, behaviors evolve, and it's hard to pick apart and reason out all the subtle nuances of why you do what you do.)
I make no claim to being an expert on this subject. But this is how it works for us.
Discipline
Discipline is what Husband treats me to when he's either
1. Trying to change my natural behavior
or
2. Trying to teach me to do an otherwise unnatural behavior until it becomes natural.
Let's use what happened this morning as an example. I left our bathroom a mess. Now, he has laid down a strict rule that I am NOT allowed to "take over" our bathroom. I cannot hang up my hosiery all over the shower and door hook, I cannot leave my makeup, hair supplies, and eye-care supplies all over the counter, etc. etc. You get the idea. The bathroom is shared, and I must share it.
However, this goes AGAINST my natural behavior. My natural inclination is to spread out my shit. I can't help it. I don't know if it's because I'm a woman, or what. It's just the way I am.
So every once in a while, Husband will come into the bathroom and realize every inch of counter space is again taken up with my makeup, hair dryer, perfume, lotions, etc. And he will have to discipline me as a reminder that I am supposed to control that.
Another example: I have impulse control issues. This is something I am constantly working on. Sometimes I say or do something without thinking, not because I'm trying to be bad, but because I can't help it. It's just my nature.
Husband disciplines me to help me learn how to control myself. But again, it's an ongoing lesson. I'm not "misbehaving," I'm just giving into my natural tendencies.
Punishment
Punishment, on the other hand, is reserved for times when I've strayed from my natural behavior and purposely gone out of my way to do something I know will make him angry. Punishment is for the times I've actively ( and perhaps maliciously) disobeyed.
There are probably dozens of examples for this. Refusing to do a task out of spite, yelling at him in front of the kids, "forgetting" to do his laundry when I've done everyone else's, or just basically doing anything that shows a lack of courtesy and respect, would earn a punishment. My natural inclination is to avoid hurting him. If I insult or offend him, most likely it's because I wanted to, which is bad. (Very very bad.)
Of course, sometimes it's hard for us to tell the difference between discipline and punishment, and after all these years, we don't even bother giving it thought. But I think, deep down, there's a difference in both approach, and closure.
Husband approaches discipline with more forgiveness and understanding. He knows it's hard for me to go against my character. It's a constant struggle.
With that in mind, there's no real closure, either. We both know, eventually, I'm going to screw up again. It might be a while, but it's only a matter of time.
Punishment, on the other hand, is brought forth with very little, if any, forgiveness and understanding. It's usually served with heavy doses of disappointment, frustration, and dismay.
But once the punishment is over, there is total closure, because there is no expectation I'll do the same thing again. There shouldn't have to be, if the punishment was effective.
Overlap between discipline and punishment happens when I've done something that would normally be indicative of my nature (being the smart-assed masochist that I am), but Husband thinks I should've learned better by now. Like, oh, sewing flowers on his pants, or turning the sprinkler system on when he's outside, or painting his nails while he's sleeping. After all these years, he thinks I should know better.
I'm a work in progress.
(The word he uses is "entertaining.")
(Also "crazy," but I prefer entertaining.)
I hope you've found this useful.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Drama Beast
I know your aversion to "drama." I understand you don't want people looking at you for all the wrong reasons, to satisfy some nasty little need to be fascinated by something. I know you don't want people judging you, or worse, pitying you. You've heard me use the quote,"pity is always laced with a little bit of contempt," and I hold that to be true.
(Which is why I do not pity you, and will not, ever. Because, my friend, if you hear me say I pity someone, you can know I mean it as the dirtiest insult.)
I also understand you don't want to burden anyone with your thoughts, your feelings, your concerns. The world of BDSM is blanketed with land mines of fallen reputations, twisted with labels and innuendoes. At its core, the thing that helps us keep marching on to find our own way, the thing that unites us, our most cherished ideal, is this: consent.
Forcing another to go through pain, fear, humiliation, intimidation, any of the sensations we subs relish in the proper circumstances, become the ultimate taboo if there's a lack of consent.
So I get it: you don't want to share your "drama," because it might make others feel uncomfortable. It might make them get angry on your behalf, or question things they don't want to have to question. It might make them afraid.
And forcing them to feel those things without their consent might construed as, oh, let's say, rude.
But here's the thing, my friend: you are not saving anyone by keeping your emotions locked inside. Not your friends who care about you, not the people who would appreciate the chance to support you, and certainly not yourself.
Life is full of things we'd rather not see. It's tough that way. Sometimes we have to turn away, just to save ourselves. But most of us,
(I'd like to think most of us)
always, always, would rather hear what is going on...not to get some weird sense of fascination from it, not to find glory in it, but to try to make things better.
And there will be some who deride you. Some who will call you a liar. And yes, some disgusting immature people who will call you a drama queen.
Ignore them. They are not worth your time, your effort, even your contempt. They are not worth a single brain cell needed for thought. Because they do not understand life is not handed to you on a silver platter, already cut into bite-sized pieces with the gristle carved away. Life does not ask for your consent. Life is hard that way.
I pity them.
But there is so much beauty in the world, too: so much color, and wonder, and joy. Hopes, and dreams, and impossibilities being made possible, every day.
You are a joy, my friend. You are part of the beauty I see in this world. You, with your pain and despair, I hold dear to my heart.
So if you need anyone's consent to let loose the beast inside you, I give it you, freely.
Let the beast run, my friend.
Let the beast run.
And then let it go.
(Which is why I do not pity you, and will not, ever. Because, my friend, if you hear me say I pity someone, you can know I mean it as the dirtiest insult.)
I also understand you don't want to burden anyone with your thoughts, your feelings, your concerns. The world of BDSM is blanketed with land mines of fallen reputations, twisted with labels and innuendoes. At its core, the thing that helps us keep marching on to find our own way, the thing that unites us, our most cherished ideal, is this: consent.
Forcing another to go through pain, fear, humiliation, intimidation, any of the sensations we subs relish in the proper circumstances, become the ultimate taboo if there's a lack of consent.
So I get it: you don't want to share your "drama," because it might make others feel uncomfortable. It might make them get angry on your behalf, or question things they don't want to have to question. It might make them afraid.
And forcing them to feel those things without their consent might construed as, oh, let's say, rude.
But here's the thing, my friend: you are not saving anyone by keeping your emotions locked inside. Not your friends who care about you, not the people who would appreciate the chance to support you, and certainly not yourself.
Life is full of things we'd rather not see. It's tough that way. Sometimes we have to turn away, just to save ourselves. But most of us,
(I'd like to think most of us)
always, always, would rather hear what is going on...not to get some weird sense of fascination from it, not to find glory in it, but to try to make things better.
And there will be some who deride you. Some who will call you a liar. And yes, some disgusting immature people who will call you a drama queen.
Ignore them. They are not worth your time, your effort, even your contempt. They are not worth a single brain cell needed for thought. Because they do not understand life is not handed to you on a silver platter, already cut into bite-sized pieces with the gristle carved away. Life does not ask for your consent. Life is hard that way.
I pity them.
But there is so much beauty in the world, too: so much color, and wonder, and joy. Hopes, and dreams, and impossibilities being made possible, every day.
You are a joy, my friend. You are part of the beauty I see in this world. You, with your pain and despair, I hold dear to my heart.
So if you need anyone's consent to let loose the beast inside you, I give it you, freely.
Let the beast run, my friend.
Let the beast run.
And then let it go.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Laughter
Of course, there is some acting going on. The people know they are being filmed. They want to look as good as possible. A lot of the time, this means they want to look as close to those other "professional" videos as possible, the paid-for stuff. And in those videos, nobody laughs.
No, in those videos, everyone is locked into a role. The bottoms are scared but stoic, seraphic and sensual creatures who look at the camera with eyes full of wanton appeal. The tops are strong, domineering types, who do a lot of frowning and ordering the bottoms about.
Nobody looks like they're actually having fun. They're all fulfilling a need, giving into a craving.
And nobody laughs.
When Husband and I are fooling around, getting our kink on, we are always laughing. It doesn't matter if he's got me bent over the bed, or contorted me into some strange position, or locked me into cuffs and bars. It doesn't matter what he's doing to me, or making me do. Our times are always filled with laughter, because we are having fun and enjoying ourselves.
Sometimes it's an anxiety-induced laughter. When I get nervous, I laugh. I can't help it. If Husband is about to discipline me, I know it's going to hurt, and nine times out of ten, I know I deserve it. But I fear it just the same, and try to assuage my fear with laughter.
Sometimes, Husband will say or do something funny during a critical moment, and I'll just crack up laughing. It doesn't "ruin" the scene, or disrupt it. In fact, it makes it more intimate somehow. The laughter draws us further into the scene, and into each other.
Sometimes, if I feel like I've gotten the upper hand, I'll let out a short laugh of triumph. Let's not forget, this is a power exchange, and sometimes Husband has to work to maintain his power. If I feel like I've managed to wrest it away from him, even a little, then hell yes, I'm going to enjoy that moment for as long as I can, and my enjoyment often comes through with laughter.
Sometimes I laugh because it just feels good. I'm where I want to be, doing what I want to do. I'm happy, I'm boisterous: I laugh.
Laughter releases tension. It lets the other person know, on some level deep down, you are okay. It means you're having fun, enjoying your time together, giving and taking pleasure. It means, no matter what is going on in the scene, you are happy to be there and be a part of it.
I don't know why so many people think laughter is inappropriate for kink videos. It makes just as much sense as all those moans and cries. When I hear a sub laugh, I know her (or his) reactions, and pleasure, are real. That doesn't detract from the scene I'm watching; it makes it all the more genuine.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Spreading the word is not enough, but it's a start
I am reprinting this post, by permission, from the blog A Slut's Memoir. It's written by an owned sub named iSlut_ who can also be contacted via Twitter.
This post is powerful and provoking, and might make you angry. You know what, it should make you angry. It should make all of us angry. This is a fucking travesty.
Fuck you. Without a condom.
WHY is it not a crime for a man to penetrate someone, without a condom, without explicit permission?
This post is powerful and provoking, and might make you angry. You know what, it should make you angry. It should make all of us angry. This is a fucking travesty.
Fuck you. Without a condom.
WHY is it not a crime for a man to penetrate someone, without a condom, without explicit permission?
Why can that man only be arrested if
1. the sex itself is nonconsensual;
2. or he *knows* he has HIV, does not disclose this info, and has unprotected sex with intent to spread disease, and *actually* infects someone;
3. or has repeatedly spread other STDs, and has been repeatedly been asked by the public health department to desist?
Why is it that if a woman carries more than two condoms she can be prosecuted as a whore?
Why (since since she is a whore) that woman be arrested for sex without a condom no matter who it's with?
Why would a man bareback someone after he agreed to use condoms?
Why do normal victim reactions include WAY too much guilt... and anger focused everywhere else but where it should be?
Why does an ER staff go into sexual assault mode if they think a stupid twit was too drunk to demand a condom... but when they find out condom use was negotiated in advance, the victim counselor suddenly packs up and walks out? I needed that much more than the warm blanket...
"You really want to be tested for STDs? Why?" ~the doctor
Why would someone take advantage of my absolute trust in Sir to harm me... and hurt Him?
Why can't I write about this?
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Some of my favorite avis among my Twitter peeps
The title says it all.
(Having said that, it was tough to choose, since I mingle with a rather raunchy and sordid bunch who have some very nice (read: arousing) avis. There are the ones that tend to snag my eyes, not necessarily because they are hot. Some are just whimsy and/or downright catching. I'll probably finish the list on another post.)
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