Skip to content

Sticking a Toe Back In

August 1, 2010

I have rather, haphazardly, tried to explore sexual community from a geographically difficult location. Difficult, because I live beyond the hills (no, really), and the nearest city on Fetlife with at least twelve member profiles is forty miles away.

This is an area where I vacillate between profound frustration and apathy. Because I’ve found people outside of the BDSM subculture who want to be tied up, or dominated, or hit. I’ve found them so far beyond the borders that they haven’t even heard of BDSM. And that is amazingly awesome. But to them it’s an abstract idea, something that calls to them that they’ve never explored or even told anyone about, or tried to explore and it didn’t really work out, and that they’re not necessarily in a position emotionally or logistically to explore with me on an in-depth basis. Which is fine, because what I have been able to explore with them is amazing and beautiful in and of itself.

I want more. I want to play with someone for whom being cut and flogged and choked and viciously fucked is an active desire, not an abstract idea. Someone for whom it is as real and present as it is for me, not something faraway that they never know if they’ll actually do anything about. And it seems like those are the people who participate in the subculture.

From the Filthy Amphibian

From Thumper's Portfolio

So I’m going far away, to a genderqueer discussion group, and to a take down group. I don’t know how it’s going to go. I have reason to hope that it will be better than the last time I decided to stick a toe back in.

A few months ago I went to a munch.

I meant to write about it afterwards, but instead it sat in my drafts folder. I managed to find a travel circumstance where I would only have to convey myself three hours roundtrip by polluting, internal combustion engine technology. I have not driven that far in about six or seven years. But I managed to not kill myself, anyone else, or damage public or government property.

Of the fifty or so people there, approximately five were under the age of forty. At which I felt a sinking feeling, but I plunged on. There was a small activity meant to help old hands and newcomers mix. The intentions were good, but without any old hands personally dedicated to helping newcomers mix, it kind of fell flat.

I was offered homemade brownies, which I avoided out of general paranoia that some crazy person would put rufies in them.

The venue was the first one I’d been to in several years where it was legal to smoke in a place not specifically designated for that purpose. And people were. As if it was normal. Which maybe for them it was, but it kind of boggled my mind.

The one person who seemed close to my age told me, “You look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“I’m tired,” I blurted, still bug-eyed, trying not to breathe in nicotine-laced tar fumes. I snatched a brownie and proceeded to devour it. It was one of the best brownies I’ve ever had.

I’m pretty sure I came off as mad socially awkward, because I don’t have the social skills modern capitalist superpowers consider normal to mix and chat with fifty people. The idea was overwhelming. But I tried to strike up several conversations, and they all went like this:

Me: “So, I wanna get to know some people. Tell me about yourself.”

Person: “Well, I’m a _____ and really like _____, and I’ve been in the Lifestyle for _____ years–”

Person’s Friend: “Hey, did you do that _____ at _____, when we _____?”

Person and Person’s Friend proceed to carry on conversation for the next ten to fifteen minutes, sometimes joined by other friends who already know what’s going on. The third or fourth time this happened I began to accept that I was not just imagining things. It was a rather fascinating development.

The one person who was interested in carrying on a sustained conversation with me pronounced ‘sadist’ with an ‘a’ like in ‘sad,’ which briefly confused me. They were of the old guard variety, who placed great emphasis on their involvement in the subculture since the ’60s, and that they had begun a discussion group, which they wanted to make sure I knew about. I can hope I was at least courteous in response, but I’m not sure. I inhaled another brownie.

Interestingly, the assumption I met from all the people I spoke to was not that I was submissive– it was that I didn’t know my orientation because I had never been to a munch. “Oh, give it a year, and you’ll know exactly what you want and how to get it.”

Very curious cultural difference from the scene in the City.

All in all, everyone seemed a lot more low-key than many I met in the City. No one introduced themselves with a title. No one calmly discussed about how they were entitled to ruin a waiter’s job because the waiter was brusque and brought eggs that were over hard instead of over easy and then didn’t leave a tip in a goddamn depression (true story). Everyone seemed like perfectly normal, average, vaguely genial modern capitalist superpower citizenry. I got to listen to some funny stories, and got to know a little bit about the BDSM groups in the area. I figured it would be selfish to take another brownie. I left after about an hour.

I’m definitely glad I made the effort to go and at least try. Of course I was so turned off by the whole experience I haven’t attempted to go to any other groups since then. Until now. But I’m in the space again where I’ve got to try, got to do something.

7 Comments leave one →
  1. August 22, 2010 12:34 pm

    I’ve never been anywhere. I mean, for BDSM. It’s mine! I can’t share it with people who I possibly have nothing else to share with. And I fear the reactions. I am no one’s toy, but a submissive woman is usually considered fair game, as you put it. I am actually good at socialicing, and still, I’d feel it futile. This. It’s too important to me to share with anyone else than the people I love… and the people I see understand.

    I’m really drawn to the way you describe submission in your porn pieces, and well, other pieces too. I’m not sure if I’d like to be the man in them, or just see and feel him hurt like that. Anyway, they seem to carry so much emotion, and are the first porn stories ever to make me feel good about myself, and wanting the same things.

  2. ranat permalink*
    August 22, 2010 12:55 pm

    Hey there!

    “I can’t share it with people who I possibly have nothing else to share with. ”

    I totally feel you there. I have similar feelings holding me back, and I’m still searching for the balance that works for me of open and taken-for-granted acknowledgment I find in the subculture and the truly intimate sharing I find with people who have no idea what I’m talking about.

    “I’m really drawn to the way you describe submission in your porn pieces, and well, other pieces too. I’m not sure if I’d like to be the man in them, or just see and feel him hurt like that. Anyway, they seem to carry so much emotion, and are the first porn stories ever to make me feel good about myself, and wanting the same things.”

    I’m really grateful to hear this, so thank you for sharing. I think it took me over a year to share Triad even after I had put it online under my name because of my fears, but I finally reached this point of “No one else is making porn that celebrates my desires, so I might as well share what I’ve got.” So that’s what I’ve got to do, even if it’s scary.

  3. August 22, 2010 2:01 pm

    I know how you feel! (Seems to be a lot of that going on around today, doesn’t it? :)) For me, even writing the blog is scary enough. It’s so real now, and some of the things I haven’t even admitted to myself before I wrote them down. It always makes me really happy to find a woman not afraid of their own desires. It’s easy to clamp up seeing as to whole world is telling us we’re doing it (and even dreaming it!) wrong.

    And now that I read the Triad story, I realize it has a lot of my fantasy stuff going on it, too. Like I have a thing for men kissing and fucking around me, in me, whatever. ;) Dear Lord.

  4. ranat permalink*
    August 22, 2010 2:17 pm

    “For me, even writing the blog is scary enough. It’s so real now, and some of the things I haven’t even admitted to myself before I wrote them down.”

    Dude. Same. But here we are, puttin’ it out there for the world. Tiny pebbles at the top of a snowy mountain.

  5. August 23, 2010 2:14 pm

    That’s a lovely metaphor. I guess it just always seems like other people somehow have it all figured out. Even when you write about not being sure, the words are so thought out that it seems that, yeah, you know what you’re talking about, you have depth. It’s impossible to see myself, and what I’ve written and said from another perspective. I’m in way too deep to see it.

  6. ranat permalink*
    August 25, 2010 5:36 pm

    I can talk very confidently about insights and clarity I have here, when I actually have them. But I don’t always have that confidence or clarity. The self I put on this blog is just selective snap-shots. Not all of me is here, for a lot of reasons. I tend to write once I have something tangible come out of my crazy soup of personal process, and less about when I’m in the mad crazy murky scramble of the process. The result is a skewed picture of who I am and where I’m at.

  7. August 30, 2010 7:08 pm

    Yeah. Sometimes it’s like that for me too, but because my job is writing, I guess I most of the time come to my blog to just process. I need the space, really, to write something that isn’t so thought out, edited and put together. I pose for no one, even myself. I’m just rambling, trying to find a trail of thought, the words to describe even some of it. The important part.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: