Satisfaction

I wrote a post a few weeks ago about how insatiable I can be. Everything I wrote there still applies: the more sex I have the more sex I want, and I'm more satisfied when I have a deep relationship.

But!

As I've been embracing kink more and finding partners who want to tie me up and do very fun painful things to me, I'm finding myself way more satisfied. To the extent that maybe even for a day or two after a good scene, I'm not craving sex or touch or anything. Just buzzing in some afterglow. It's a novel feeling.

Last Saturday, I went to a sex party with Conrad, a newish play partner. (Dear god, he is hot.) Now, I'm normally pretty private about who I'm playing with. It seems slightly awkward to write about the sex I'm having as I'm having it, especially if I'm talking in ways I wouldn't with my partner. But Conrad asked me if I was planning to blog about him and told me I could post a link. So I have permission!

He and I played, ladies and gentleman, from 9:30pm to 5:00am last Saturday night. We had an audience at the party, but we were almost exclusively fooling around with each other. I spent the better part of seven hours bound in one way or another. He put clothespins on me, he whipped me, he dunked my head underwater in the hot tub, he used electro-stim on my nipples and pussy, he pinched and hit and bit and kissed me. He pulled my hair and stuck his cock down my throat. He made me come more times than I'm sure of. For sustenance, he blindfolded me and fed me a hot dog and some fruit. (I spit a watermelon seed at him!) At the end of the night we fucked next to a bunch of other people having fun. And then in the morning, after we went home to my apartment and got some sleep, we fucked some more.

After that, I was satisfied. Boy was I ever. Actually, I was exhausted, but in a pleasant way. And I took a couple of days to just chill out at home after work, watch movies with my roommate, and generally do tame, vanilla, calm things. I slept a lot the next two nights. And I felt great.

I had never felt that way after vanilla sex. I've had some really great sex that stuck with me. I've made some beautiful connections and hot memories. But I'd never felt so bone-satiated. So finished. Content.

I'm so glad I've finally come to this point, where I'm actually acting on my submissive urges on a regular basis. It took me a long time to get here, to be ready for it, but I'm happy I've arrived. It's clear to me that BDSM is a fundamental piece of who I am and what I desire, and something that was missing from my life for a long time. And now I get to have it. And I'm so grateful.

Submission is Not Passive

"Submit" is an action verb.

Well, duh, Paradox, you might say. Of course it's an action verb. That's just basic grammar.

You would be right, but I mean it in a deeper sense than that.

For a long time, I felt a little guilty when I had long sessions with lovers where I was being submissive to them, where they were doing hurty or bondagey or sexy things to me and being in control of what was happening. I felt like the burden of creativity, of action, was on them and that it was somehow unfair. That I was simply taking what they gave me without contributing that much, since I was going along with what they thought up and told me to do.

I've realized it's more complicated than that. And better than that, really.

When I'm playing with a top (or dom or whatever) who likes what he* is doing, he's getting something out of it too. I'm giving him my reactions and my permission and contributing my energy to the scene. Depending on our dynamic, I'm giving him my obedience. I'm using my strength to hold uncomfortable positions or to accept whatever pain he gives me. I'm giving him a release that he probably craves on his own, access to my body and to an activity that he wants. I'm exciting him. It is, as I say on my Fetlife profile, a gift.

To submit is an act of will. It's an active choice, one that I continue to make throughout a scene. There's a saying in improv of all kinds: Say yes to your partner. And it applies in kink (and sex for that matter) because if I'm not saying yes, we can't do anything. If he's trying to feed me and I don't open my mouth, that's the end. If he's trying to hit me and I run away, that's the end. If I use my safeword at any time, that's the end. And when it goes well, when it's hot and exciting and satisfying, it's because we created that together.

Which is so, so much fun.

*I use male pronouns since I tend towards heterosexuality in my kink life. I play with women sometimes, but not nearly as often. But this could all apply to dominant types of any gender.

What is Sex?

I just realized (again) that I've never talked about what sex is on this blog.

I write about sex all the fucking time, and yet I've never really defined what it is that I'm writing about. I mean, sure, there's a common definition of what counts as sex. I've encountered it, and I think it's really stupid.

See, most people seem to think that the only thing that's "really" sex is some kind of penetrative (enveloping?) intercourse. Vaginal, anal. With a man's (bio) cock. That's it. Everything else is just "foreplay" or "after play" and what's important is the "play" part that only includes fucking.

But, um, I really think that cock sucking is sex. And pussy licking. And finger fucking. And fisting. And using anal beads. Hand jobs in the back of a movie theater. Fucking someone with my dildo. Fingers on my clit through my panties. A mouth on my nipples and really hot, long makeout sessions, too.

The way I see it, if I could have an orgasm from it, or my partner could have an orgasm from it, it definitely counts as sex. If I'm thinking about it for days afterwards, if I could fantasize about it while I masturbate, that's probably sex, too. The things that matter to me are the feelings, the kind of connection I'm experiencing, not some technicality of what body part entered where.

The problem with only considering Penis-In-Whatever intercourse to be sex is that it excludes a whole range of very pleasurable and definitely sexual activities from what we think "counts." I've written before about how the definition of sex as intercourse excludes the activities that make a majority of women have an orgasm. Like, you know, touching the clitoris at all. There's also the fact that lesbians are pretty much unable to have sex under this model. Which is just silly.

The number of people I've actually fucked is definitely lower than the number of people I've considered sex partners. Especially given the women on my list. But I'd rather honor the experiences I've had, honor the partners I've shared my time and my body with, and be that much more of a slut. Because I'm proud of my history, and all the kinds of sex I've had with all kinds of people!

Two Caveats to My Post on Sluthood

**While I'm having sex, I still don't want to hear the word slut directed at me in a way that's connected with shame. Or any other sex negative phrase for that matter, like cock tease or prude (ha, like anyone would call me that). Not only am I not ashamed of what I do sexually, I'm not at all turned on by shame. So trying to invoke that emotion is just kind of weird and jarring and pulls me out of teh sexiness, which I'd rather stay immersed in, thanks.

Tell me I'm such a good slut and so good at sex. Yes, I love to hear that. Please praise me for my sexuality. That turns me on. But don't go to the "you like this so much, don't you, slut?" thing or the "I bet you make all the boys crazy, you tease" thing or the "I'm going to fuck you like a ragdoll, cuz you're a fucktoy for my use" thing. Not my bag.


**I get tested often for sexually transmitted infections and am careful with barrier methods of protection for the sex I have. (Condoms, condoms, condoms! And gloves.) I also have an IUD to prevent pregnancy. Having lots of sexual partners does increase my risk for transmission of disease and unplanned pregnancy, and would increase those risks for anyone on my path. I'm all about sluthood, but it's also important to protect your health. Resources for good ways to protect yourself: Scarleteen and Planned Parenthood.

Rethinking "Slut"

I've written a lot about sluthood before, and about how I had trouble reclaiming that word because of my personal history with it. When I was first called a slut, it was not at all cute or kind. Even though I was fine with the sex I'd been having, the shame behind the word got to me when my closest friends used it against me. It's taken me a long time to heal from that.

But heal I think I have. The more beautiful sex I've had with more people, the easier it's gotten to gladly think of myself as a slut. An ethical one. A happy one. And one who is proud of her sex life and sexual history.

Jaclyn Friedman, editor of the book and contributor to the blog Yes Means Yes, just wrote a lovely piece about what sluthood has done for her. One of the best quotes from the piece is this:
Sluthood...reminds me to enjoy the life I have now, instead of waiting for someone to come start it. It helps me know my heart better, and my libido. It makes me better at communicating about both of them, and much less likely to confuse the two. To my mind, far from ruining me for real love, sluthood is preparing me for it...

...Sluthood isn’t just a choice we should let women make because women should be free to make even “bad” choices. It’s a choice we should all have access to because it has the potential to be liberating. Healing. Soul-fulfilling. I’m telling you this because sluthood saved me, in a small but life-altering way, and I want it to be available to you if you ever think it could save you, too. Or if you want it for any other reason at all.
I've made so many great connections, had so many fun and interesting experiences, and learned so very much that I wouldn't have if I weren't happy to jump into sex with new, interesting people. There have been a few bad experiences, mostly because of somebody deceiving me or treating me disrespectfully, but that could have happened even if I was trying to have a relationship with them. In fact, usually the reason they were being deceiving and disrespectful was that they assumed I wanted a relationship and that's what they had to do to get me into bed. Dummies.

I've also made great friendships and found really wonderful relationships. My promiscuity has never stopped me from finding love, just the opposite. My life has been filled with love, all kinds of love, from great friendship to a four-year commitment with a man I'm still close to. And so much in between. I wouldn't trade that for the world.

So I'm done hiding from a word that should just mean "someone who has a lot of sex with a lot of people." If that's the literal definition of a slut, well, that's what I am. And there's not a single reason to be sorry for that.

So here's my shouting from the mountain: I'm 23 years old (on Saturday!), I've had 64 sexual partners*, and I'm proud of it. I am a good slut, and happy to be one.


*This is based on my definition of "sex," which holy crap I've never written about here! I will fix that immediately. Update: I wrote about my definition of sex here.

Online Dating

I've been using internet dating sites in one form or another since I was sixteen. I started with the teen quiz and meet-people site eSpin.com known at the time as eSpinTheBottle. When I used it, you'd click on a picture of a bottle and it'd pop out a random teen near you. I gave blow jobs to one boy who went to high school in the next town over and (unbeknownst to me) had an identical twin brother who I later ran into. Now THAT'S an awkward story for another time.

I've used AdultFriendFinder, I've used eHarmony (long ago and very briefly), I've used Craigslist. When I went to school in Rochester, I posted an ad in casual encounters in the women-seeking-men section. All women's ads were flagged for some reason, so the ad was only up for about 45 minutes. I received 150 replies. Out of those, I met one guy with whom I had lovely sex and spankings. The variety of emails I got were mostly hilarious and the endeavor was worth my time even just for the lolz.

These days I highly favor OKCupid, the entirely free, a little bit nerdy, and very well-done dating site. It's inclusive of queer sexualities and open relationships, which is a huge plus in my book. (The next step is gender inclusivity...hint, hint, nudge, nudge.) Also, there are lots of hot people in my age range on there, which helps.

In this age where we do so much on the internet: social networking, sharing pictures, chatting with friends, everything, it kind of makes sense to date online. I much prefer it to picking people up in bars or clubs. (Although the whole friend of a friend at a party/dinner/whatever thing still can't be beat; they're pre-approved!).

I like the fact that we all get to have a profile, so there's something more than physical appearance upon which a first contact is based. In a bar, I know for sure that someone's only approaching me because I look hot. If they're writing me a message and engaging with something I've written about myself, starting a conversation that's relevant to me, I know they're interested in more than my appearance. And if the message is just about how I look ("hey, ur gorgeous, wanna chat?") then I can ignore it without worrying that I'll be harassed or insulted for turning the person down. If someone is a douche online, I can just block them. It makes the weed-out process so much easier.

I think most people who use online dating feel similarly; it's all in the approach. If you're an online dater and want to send successful first messages, it can seem like mastering a delicate art. (Sadly, the burden of approach online is on men just as much as in real life, which I of course fly in the face of, ha!) I think it actually comes down to the same principles that apply to all approaches: be polite, engage with the person's profile and stated interests (in real life, engage with someone's humanity not just their body), and ask questions that can start a conversation.

For really good tips and info on online dating, and on human relationships in general, check out OKCupid's blog OkTrends. The very nerdy-cool people behind the site like to sit around and aggregate all the data from the site they've got at their fingertips. They've come out with some really fun and interesting info on how people date and what's most effective in terms of first messages and profile pictures. It's a very, very fascinating body of work.

Good TED Talk by Cindy Gallop



Via Betty Dodson and Carlin Ross I really like this quick video from Cindy Gallop, creator of Make Love Not Porn (which I wrote about before here). I've certainly had similar experiences to the one she describes, and my entire honors thesis was about how porn is a huge part of young people's sex education. I've written before about Gallop's site, but I thought this video was a nice summary of the reasoning behind it.

Hot Kinky Porn

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Victim Blaming and "Just Trying to Help"

I've often struggled when talking to ordinary folks who, after a woman is sexually assaulted or even just in a general discussion of rape and sexual assault, focus to the exclusion of all else on what the victim could do or could have done to prevent an assault. I can clearly articulate that saying these things to a sexual assault survivor after her experience is only going to make her feel guilty for what was clearly a crime against her. Many, if not even close to all, people can get that.

What I've had trouble explaining is why that kind of rhetoric is bad even when we're just talking about rape as a concept or on a societal level. I've had more than one person answer with: "But it's true that there are things one can do to decrease the risk of sexual assault. Why shouldn't I point that out? Couldn't it help someone avoid it?"

Always Aroused Girl has helped me out immensely with this by smoothly articulating what's wrong with looking to the victim for the reason why a rape or assault happened or for the responsibility to prevent them.
While it might (might!) be appropriate to educate our sisters and daughters about “sexual assault prevention tips” and “sending messages” before they set foot out the door, once an assault — or “almost” assault — has taken place, it’s time to shut up and listen. Advice about what the survivor might have done differently or should do the next time amounts to nothing more than victim blaming.

Every single time. Sincere or not. “Just trying to help” or not.

People who don’t want themselves or their loved ones to be assaulted feel great comfort in handing out those tips because they give the illusion of control. “You should never have gone to his house!” they say, or “You should have said ‘NO’ more firmly,” but what they really mean is that they hope that those strategies will work for them if they should be so unfortunate as to be assaulted.

They are wearing blinders. While I’d like to feel pity for their sightless state I cannot, because every time they try to rationalize assault, they hurt the ones who have lived through it.

Gossip and Being a Scene Newbie

I spent most of a slow day at the store a couple weeks ago reading Fetlife discussion posts. (You need to have an account to read.) There was a big hubbub in one of the local groups over some inappropriate behavior by a leader of said group. The main thing to come out of it was that invasive/abusive/assaultive behavior doesn't get addressed very well in the kink scene in New York. In various threads on what is essentially the Facebook of kink, people have been proposing different methods to deal with this problem. (If you read my post on dirty laundry, you know what my ideal solution would be.)

I've always been really wary of and hesitant to enter the kink community. It's true that there are misogynist and entitled men everywhere. In any bar or club or party I could go to, at least some segment of the male population will be liable to creepily hit on, grope, or even rape a woman. That's just the awful truth of things today. I do think there are things we can all do to help change that state of affairs, but that change is definitely not here yet. Not even close.

In the specific kink community, though, we are dealing with intensified power dynamics and some potentially very dangerous forms of play. Interactions that are already really problematic in the straight world take on a heightened importance when you need to trust someone to tie you up and beat you. Or even just be a present at a party where you're being tied up and beaten. Kink creates vulnerability, and I was hesitant for a long time to be that vulnerable in the presence of a whole community.

One of the cool things about reading this discussion is that people seem to have a better sense of gender dynamics and the consequences of abuse. There's much more open discussion about consent than in other arenas. It's a community that has to be more aware of respectful sexual practices because of the extremes of play it favors. This is a good thing.

On the other hand, it's become really clear that there are plenty of kinky folks who have NO inkling of acceptable behavior or speech*. Some people who posted in the thread, a couple of whom I've met cordially in real life, were completely out of line and exposed themselves as misogynist, or gay-bashing, or victim-blaming, or some horrid combination of the above. I of course had no idea of this when I met them and wouldn't have ever known if I hadn't finally found enough friends that someone mentioned to me that I should check out the threads.

I find myself in a weird position here. I'm a newcomer to this group and I want to find partners to play with. There's a lot in BDSM that I haven't done and want to explore and I know the best way to do it is to get into a relationship with someone who has the same interests. The play parties and munches and all of that are largely forums to meet people with similar interests.

But really the only way I have to tell who is safe to play with, who is not going to be an asshole, is through the grapevine or from reading posts on an online forum. Which I find very frustrating. I much, much prefer to keep my relationship with any given person between me and that person. I hate triangulation, all that he-said-this and she-did-that bullshit that's really just a consequence of not dealing with conflict directly. But when it comes to safety, I suppose I must get information wherever I can.

The consequence of the shit that I alluded to last week (which, no, I'm not going to say much more about) is that I'm just going to throw myself into the community. If there's a rumor about someone, I want to hear it. Just to be on the safe side. If I'm going to play privately with someone new, I'm going to ask for references from past partners. I wish very much I didn't have to do all that, but it seems that I must. On the plus side, I'm finding a cool new community, which I've already started to have great fun with. It's a whole new world to open up and explore.

*Please don't bring up the first amendment, I'm talking about speech that makes someone an asshole, not that makes them a felon. This is about ethics, not law.

Medication and Emotion

I started Wellbutrin last Wednesday. I intended to write about it before I got derailed, but I suppose it's better a little late than never.

I felt intensely nervous before my first appointment with the psychiatrist, partly because my experience with the guy who prescribed me Adderall pretty much consisted of "How's it going with the drugs? Good? Here's another prescription. That'll be 65 dollars." I was worried that my new doctor would be as brusque and clinical, and my depression is so much more of a tender subject than my mild ADHD.

Fortunately, he was kind and asked lots of questions, talking to me for about 45 minutes before writing me a prescription. He didn't seem to mind that I'd done a little research ahead of time and he addressed my concerns calmly. Which was definitely a relief.

That said, my feelings about this whole drug thing are a lot more complicated than nervousness over how my doctor will behave. I've been working and working and working to overcome this mood issue for years. It's a struggle that's just a part of my daily reality, that's built into my routines and my self care and my relationships. It's hard to imagine my life without it, or even just with it alleviated a little.

The whole process seems so strange. My doctor explained that after two weeks or so I should physically start to feel better, that my energy will improve and it'll be easier to do things. Then after about a month, my mood should be better, the drug will be in my system and in effect. It's just odd to think of the way I feel emotionally as a symptom that a daily pill can address. It feels like something that's a part of me, and altering it with something I can just swallow is a bit disconcerting.

I'm also terrified to get my hopes up over what's going to happen here. I know that pills are not a complete fix for anything, and I don't really know how I'm going to respond to them. The idea that my friends and sister have given me that it'll be "easier to be okay" sounds unbelievably appealing, but I'm a little afraid to let myself hope. What if it doesn't work? What, then, will I be left with? I know myself and that I'd just move on and try something else, but I've delayed this option for so long, held it in my mind as a fallback, that I know it'll be really hard if it doesn't help me.

I suppose it's ultimately a question of venturing into an unknown. I've always chafed particularly at the beginnings of journeys, the feeling of uncertainty and the knowledge that I'm a novice, as green and fragile as can be. I think one of my biggest challenges as a human being is to embrace that feeling and learn to love not knowing. Moving forward and trying things even though they're scary is a part of that. So onward and upward, and I'll keep y'all filled in on how things progress.

How Cool is This?

Via Figleaf (who I seem to be unable to stop referencing), a group of scientists has suggested that a month-long abstinence campaign might drastically reduce new HIV infections to the point of having a tangible impact on the global epidemic. Meaning: if we could convince everyone in the world to stop having sex for one month, we could make huge headway in the fight against AIDs.

Now, it might seem like I'm someone who wouldn't embrace abstinence, even for a month. I wouldn't like it, I admit, although I've had significantly longer periods of abstinence than than in recent years when I just didn't feel emotionally available to connect with people in that way. I need breaks, too.

I think this is a brilliant idea, though. The basis for their suggestion is the fact that most HIV transmissions happen within the first month or so of the original person being infected. The risk of passing it along drastically reduces after that point. Therefore, if we could get everyone to stop having sex for just a month (or, as Figleaf says, to even just use barriers/condoms for what sex they do have during that month) then we'd be past that highly infectious window for everyone with the virus.

The only problem I see with this is getting all the governments and activists and people who can make such a campaign happen on board in an organized way. This sounds like it'd have to be a massive advertising campaign, with advance notice and a planned month and all kinds of logistical nightmares. But it's better than anything I've seen so far, and all those things are details that a group with enough good organizers could probably pull it off.

Anybody else think this is a good or a terrible idea? I'm curious to hear the reactions.

In Defense of Publicly Airing Dirty Laundry

I've done a lot of thinking about gossip vs. public accountability in the past few days, and I really think that pushing issues that would usually be private out of the closet and into clear daylight is a good thing. So long as it's all done out in the open and names are named and any person has the freedom to respond to allegations or opinions in any way that they want, it benefits everyone to have things be more public rather than less.

I'm specifically advocating this with regards to abuse, bullying, rape, harrassment, stalking, etc, but I think it also applies to other arenas. Bad business practices, friendships gone awry, hell, even breakups. I know that the court of public opinion can be ridiculous and (especially on the internet) freely shared information can be freely abused information. I understand why people want to keep some things private. It hurts when we put something out there and then others react with vitriol.

The other side to that, though, is that creepy people then show their stripes. If someone's being abusive, especially on a forum like Fetlife or Facebook where it's not anonymous, they're outed as an abuser. When everybody is talking about something publicly, rather than whispering about it privately, it becomes clear pretty quickly who is being crazy and who is reasonable. It also means there's more information that's readily accessible to everyone, and people can make their own judgments about who they want to befriend or who is safe to be around.

Thomas over at Yes Means Yes writes all the time that the way we're going to stop rapists is by publicly shaming them and removing the social constructs that allow them to continue. Calling people out on rape jokes. Standing behind victims who come forward. Etc.

I think that applies here. If it's impossible to misbehave without having your shit broadcast all over a community you're part of, then people are either going to hesitate before they misbehave or they're going to leave that community. If every community then had a similar public response to bad behavior, any kind of abuser would run out of places to go. Or get stupid, then get caught.

I think that very public discussions of personal issues are actually different than gossip. Gossip allows people to hide things; by its very nature it's a hidden form of communication. Figleaf quoted Dilbert creator and blogger Scott Adams the other day on privacy.
When privacy goes away completely, we'll all be freer. There's only a penalty to privacy when your asshole neighbor can look down his nose at your hobbies while secretly masturbating to Field and Stream magazine. The best two situations for society are when you have either complete privacy or complete non-privacy. It's the middle ground that creates problems. That's where we are now.
What allows that neighbor to be an asshole, alongside the fact that his own kinkiness is a secret, is the fact that he's probably only trash talking you privately, to his friends. If everything was out in the open, how long do you think his superiority would last? Not long at all.

Call for submissions for feminist, queer pornzine

Hey y'all. I just found this call for submissions in my email inbox and thought I'd put it here in case anyone would be inspired. Looks like a great idea for a publication, and right up my alley. I will be following up my last post soon, probably by the end of today.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

What is pornzine?
http://pornzine.wordpress.com/
pornzine is a queer feminist response to erotic art and literature. pornzine aims to meld pornography with high art; comics with erotica; titillation with stunning visuals.

pornzine is looking for submissions that highlight queer feminist erotica. Comic submissions are strongly encouraged, and are pornzine’s main focus—however, pornzine loves the written word and single illustrations, so by all means send those along as well.

Specs for illustrations and comics:
Black and white
8.5x11
No bleeds
300 dpi
JPEG or PDF

Specs for the written word:
Maximum 5,000 words
Short stories, poetry, and more accepted
If you’d like an illustration or two to go with your story, let us know.

Please keep the following in mind should you choose to submit something to pornzine:

pornzine is queer. While we’re not going to tell you what queer should mean to you, please keep this in mind as you compose your work.
pornzine is feminist. We consider reproductions of typically sexist, misogynist, hetero-normative sex and sexuality offensive, unimportant, and not worthy of printing.
pornzine is aimed at titillation, as much as it is aimed at high art. Please therefore submit work you are nothing but deeply proud of. Just because it’s naughty doesn’t mean it has to be poorly done.

Send Submissions to: queerpornzine@gmail.com
by August 1, 2010

Derailed

In News of the Last 48 Hours of Paradox's Life, I had a bit of romantic catastrophe that's left me reeling and rethinking many, many things. A lot of which I want to write about.

I've got some kind of gigantic post or series of posts coming about gossip and abuse and responses to abuse and public domain information and personal responsibility for the safety of others and how all of the above relates to the BDSM/poly/sex positive/whatever community. Which is going to take me a couple of days to sort out.

I just wanted to write something down here to be like, whoa, some SHIT has been going down and I have THINGS TO SAY. That is all. More to come.
On living, loving, learning, and fucking with the materials I've got at hand.

Creative Commons License
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