Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “Goddamn Trigger”!

August 21, 2019

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“Let You Win”, teased previously, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “Goddamn Trigger” (MC MF MD)!

Kitten has a blog where she talks about her experiences with BDSM. And with bratting for her Master like a pervy little minx. And lately, with hypnosis… and all the ways it’s turning her from a brat into a respectful good girl, all thanks to Master and his Goddamn Trigger. She’s not saying she’s against it, mind you. She just wants everyone to know that it’s deeply unfair. Here’s a taste:

Some days it’s not easy being a brat. Like, look, all I want is just to wipe the smug look off of Master’s face and get him to break down giggling every once in a while, okay? I mean, yes, it’s nice when he takes me by the hand and pulls me onto the bed and spanks my lily-white ass until it’s hot pink, sure. But it’s the times when I kind of win that I live for, even if it’s just for a moment before he grabs my thicc hips and pulls down my panties and checks my pussy to see if I’m lying when I say I don’t care whether we fuck. When I stick out my tongue and wiggle my butt and say, “Make me, Mister DomlyDomDom,” and he can’t quite hold his stern look, and he facepalms? That’s my favorite thing ever, even when I know he’s going to punish me for it.

Especially when I know he’s going to punish me for it.

But this new thing we’ve gotten into? Hypnosis? Oh, that’s just so fucking unfair. And I mean, the worst part of it is that I can’t even blame him for it, because it’s my subconscious mind that’s being a sneaky, obedient little bitch! Not that he’s not a really good hypnotist–god, he took to this shit like a duck to water once he went to the first munch and got hold of some books on the subject. He’s got the perfect voice for it, all smooth and silky and rich; it’s like someone pouring melted chocolate straight into my brain or something. But I know that if I wanted to resist him, I could. That’s, like, Hypnosis 101. You can’t be made to do anything that you don’t really want to do, deep down.

But man oh man, is it a shock to find out that what I really want to do, deep down, is follow every single one of Master’s hypnotic commands instantly and without question.

Hope you enjoy it!

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Sneak Peek: “Let You Win”!

August 21, 2019

It appears that I was slightly remiss some months back, and failed to post a sneak peek of this week’s story when it was an Early Bird Reward story. So allow me to give you a special, somewhat belated preview of this week’s story for the EMCSA, “Let You Win”!

It’s a return outing for Josie and Marina from “Temptation Dice”, a story of mine from 2017. As with before, Marina has all sorts of fun and sexy ideas for things to do with Josie once she’s got her roommate good and hypnotized, and as before Josie is mostly making a token show of resistance because she enjoys all the things she and Marina do together. But Josie wants to make it clear that she could resist, if she really wanted to. And she’s very surprised to find out that Marina agrees. Here’s a taste:

Josie’s eyes watered with the effort of ignoring the swinging crystal that dangled just at the edge of her field of vision. “That’s all it is, sweetie,” Marina purred, her carefully-trimmed fingernails tracing a line of sensation along the inside of Josie’s smooth, creamy thighs. “I’m not doing anything to you. I’m just sitting here and talking to you, letting the silver chain hang down from my fingers and letting the pretty pink crystal hang down from the end of the chain. You’re too strong to let something as simple as that tease your brain into soft, foggy, mindless surrender. Isn’t that right?”

Josie nodded slowly. She realized that somehow, without exactly noticing when it had happened, her eyes had drifted back over to the pendant. It was like there was this tiny little slip in her memories, a gap where nothing particularly important happened and Josie knew she didn’t need to pay attention, and at the other end of the gap her gaze was following the crystal again. Following it back and forth. Back. And forth. She let out a slow, lazy sigh, the tension escaping her with a whoosh of breath as her muscles began to relax.

Hope you enjoy it!

Is It Hypnosis? – Part Nineteen

August 18, 2019

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 111 caring and devoted Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

As with the last time, I haven’t really had a set schedule for these entries – it just pops into my brain every once in a while that hey, this is a thing I like to do that I haven’t done lately. And by “this”, I mean “going back through my archive of stories and looking at the ones that purport to use actual hypnosis instead of some fantasy mind control technique, and seeing whether the hypnosis is genuinely achievable and whether it’s ethical if so”. So let’s get started, shall we?

The Weakness in Me: I’m really inclined to say “no with a ‘but'” to this one. Certainly I don’t think that hypnosis by itself, or even hypnosis combined with sexual stimulation and teasing, could implant the kind of suggestions under discussion in the story into an unwilling subject. I just don’t think the human brain works that way. But at some point, if you’ve genuinely been abducted and imprisoned for an indefinite duration, hypnosis starts to shade into Stockholm syndrome and other related psychological reactions to imprisonment, and I think it’s theoretically possible that if you didn’t get arrested and thrown in jail before you got the chance, that you could probably mess with someone’s mind in some pretty genuine ways.

I have no intention of ever ever ever finding out if I’m right, ever ever ever. I suggest you stick with that same plan.

Paradise by the Dashboard Light: This one is possibly probably maybe achievable but I’m guessing not? Don’t get me wrong, the hypnotic induction is pretty much realistic, and a lot of the so-called “power napping” techniques out there, along with easily half of the “meditation” and “visualization” techniques, are just forms of applied self-hypnosis. (I say ‘just’, but if they work and are helpful, then they’re doing great and it doesn’t really matter what you call them unless you want to dig into the specifics to improve your skillset.) Trevor’s tired, and he’s probably very receptive to sleep-related suggestions. That bit’s fine.

But do I believe that he could be hypnotized into giving up the wheel of his precious car? Probably not. On some level, his subconscious is very aware that Hannah is taking over the driving, a concept he’s very resistant to on both a conscious and an unconscious level thanks to his sexist bias about women drivers. Getting out of the car and being led around to the passenger side would probably have snapped him out of it, to say nothing of whatever work Hannah did on him to try to reverse decades of internalized toxic masculinity. As much as we might all wish we could snap chauvinist asshats out of it with hypnosis, this is probably just a fantasy.

Pretty Vacant: There’s a chance this could really happen, but it involves assuming a lot of facts not in evidence. If Valerie was bisexual or lesbian, and if she was used to using this kind of convention atmosphere as an excuse to engage in sexual activity she didn’t normally do in her normal home life (both of which are not entirely implausible suggestions – lots of people tend to assume a bit of an attitude of misrule at conferences and conventions, even ones that are ostensibly business-related) then it’s just possible that hypnosis would take the role of a social lubricant usually assumed by alcohol and distance from her usual circle of friends who might regulate her behavior.

In that scenario, it’s not so much that Valerie is being hypnotized into having lesbian sex with Jacqueline, it’s that she’s already receptive to the idea of fucking her temporary roommate and hypnosis is just providing her with the ‘oh, I’m so helpless to resist you’ excuse to do it. I still wouldn’t try hypnotizing someone like this, because I don’t think it would qualify as ‘enthusiastic consent’ as we normally envision it and it would be better to have a frank and open talk that doesn’t end in sex than a stealth hypnosis session that does… but in the realm of fantasy, where no one gets hurt, it’s okay to own your daydreams about being hypnotized without realizing it.

Automatic: See above, but with less justification and even less plausibility. Bev isn’t just being hypnotized into wanting sex with Mona, she’s being hypnotized into a whole bunch of long-term and fairly significant behavioral changes that are incorporated into her daily routine. She’s not somewhere where the usual rules don’t apply, she’s in her own apartment doing the things that she does every single day, and it’s unlikely that Mona could shift those patterns at all without her buying into the idea, especially not after one hypnosis session. A fun story, but not very realistic.

Unbelievable: Well, it’s right there in the title, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, the rapid induction that Veronica performs is pretty close to some of the real ones I’ve seen, done, and had done to me. But a) they probably wouldn’t work on someone in a state of high fury like Sara, b) she’d snap out of it right away because hypnosis isn’t magic, and c) she certainly wouldn’t be in a receptive state of mind to accept any suggestions, especially not from someone like Veronica who she was very angry at and didn’t trust at all even a little. This one is quite obviously intended to be a bit of a parody of the usual “hypnotist gains immense power over someone very quickly” concept, with a bit of silliness about padded resumes thrown in because I thought it would be funny. You need have no fear that anyone might do this to you.

And that’s five more stories out of the way! We’re getting close to the halfway mark, but of course that’s a bit misleading because not all of my stories use hypnosis as their form of mind control. Still, I’m sure we’ll get there eventually, right?

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “You Can’t Look Away”!

August 14, 2019

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“Black Reign”, teased previously, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “You Can’t Look Away” (MC MF FD)!

Louis has agreed to help Tommi with a little experiment. It involves a spiral, and a comfortable chair, and hypnosis. Louis agreed because he has a crush on Tommi, but it never occurred to him that she might feel the same way. And that she might have decided to do something about it. Here’s a taste:

It wasn’t a suggestion. It couldn’t have been a suggestion, because Louis wasn’t hypnotized yet. Louis knew he wasn’t hypnotized yet, because his eyes were still open and he was still paying attention to every word Tommi said. He was sure he was paying attention to Tommi’s words, because Tommi just told him to keep staring at the spiral and following the lines around and down, deeper and deeper, and Louis remembered hearing it so he knew that he was still awake. So it couldn’t have been a suggestion, at least not a hypnotic one. Tommi was just reminding him to pay close attention to the spiral and not to let himself get distracted. By Tommi, probably.

Just thinking about Tommi almost made Louis glance over at her, but then he remembered that he was supposed to keep looking at the spiral and following the lines. He couldn’t help picturing her in his mind, though. Those warm, soulful brown eyes, so deep and dark that Louis couldn’t always tell where the iris ended and the pupils began. The adorable, pixie-cut brown hair that seemed to invite tousling and petting. That bright, dimpled smile set in that adorably pale face that always lit up the room whenever she grinned. She was probably smiling right now–he could hear it in her voice as she said, “That’s it, Louis. Just let the slow, twisting pull capture your gaze, pulling all your thoughts down to the heart of the spiral for me.”

Louis didn’t really know if it was working–his only real knowledge of hypnosis came from late-night channel surfing, cheesy old television shows and black-and-white movies left on as background noise during marathon cram sessions. They always featured pretty young women trailing off into silence as they gazed into flashing lights or spinning hypno-discs, becoming blank and empty and ready to be programmed to rob banks or poison Magnum, PI or something. Louis didn’t feel blank at all. He felt very aware of his body, acutely conscious of Tommi’s presence in the room. But he watched the spiral anyway.

Hope you enjoy it!

Batman’s Advice to the Aspiring Writers of Tomorrow

August 11, 2019

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 114 outrageously wonderful Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

Batman’s not a writer, of course. Not that we know of, at least – maybe he has a Bat-Pen and a pad of waterproof Bat-Paper and he jots down poetry on patrol when he’s not beating up criminals or posing dramatically against sheets of lightning. (“The night wind blows cold/upon the streets of Gotham/Hang on, time to punch.”) But there’s one really great bit of advice you can get from this fictional vigilante, and it comes from the otherwise maligned “Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice”. (Don’t worry, you don’t even need to watch the whole movie. It’s in the trailer.)

Batman asks Superman, “Do you bleed?” It’s a question every writer should ask themselves.

Because one of the traps that I think it’s easy for any writer to fall into, especially younger writers who may not have had much life experience (but who are of course still over majority age in their community because this is a blog for adults only) is glibness. When you’ve got a lot of talent, there’s a belief that you can coast over any insincerity or shallowness in your characterization with clever wordplay or an exciting plot, that people won’t notice that your people are stereotypes and caricatures because you’ve just written that story so well.

This is wrong. The audience always knows. It comes across in a hundred tiny ways – dialogue that doesn’t sound like a real human being would say it, decisions that seem illogical or nonsensical, ideas that seem patently unoriginal because they’re nothing more than a hollow echo of real feelings. (Roger Ebert had a nose for this shit – he could always tell when a screenwriter was reflecting what they’d seen in other movies instead of what they felt themselves.) No matter how much talent you have and how much practice you put into your craft, there is never any substitute for putting real feelings onto the page.

Now, this doesn’t mean that you can never write anything except for your own, specific lived experiences. We’re not all going to write memoirs for the rest of time. But it does mean that when you write a scene, you have to find the passions and emotions within your own lived experience that reflect that. Writing a scene about a surgeon undergoing a dressing-down at a malpractice hearing? You need to know your medical terminology, sure, but you also need to dig down to that fourth-grade self who fucked up a word at a spelling bee and stood in front of a room of laughing kids. Describing two young lovers meeting for a night of passion? It’s not going to feel real unless you can touch base with that light-headed thrill of anticipation you felt when you first saw the person who makes your heart pound.

This kind of projected empathy, being able to find your emotions and isolate the elements that go into them and recombine them into descriptions of events you can feel without experiencing… it’s a skill. It’s a mental muscle, one that’s every bit as important to hone as your vocabulary or your sentence structure or your organization of plot and setting. You need to be able to convey to someone what it’s like to be a half-elf living among humans, and you can’t do that until you understand who that character is. We all have experiences of ostracization. We all have times we’ve been hurt, we’ve been happy, we’ve been sad, we’ve been guilty. You need to be able to prick your metaphorical finger, let that feeling well up, and then let it bleed onto the page.

And once you do it, I don’t think it’s just your writing that improves. If you’re white and putting a Black character in one of your stories, and you don’t just research the historical experience of prejudice and oppression but really try to empathize with what it must be like to live like that, you will be more sympathetic and caring when you encounter those situations in your life. If you’re writing about someone whose lived experiences don’t match your own, but who you’ve made that mental and emotional connection to, you will feel more of the commonality of human existence. Empathy is good, full stop.

At the end of the day, people are going to love your work more if you’re an unconventionally-talented writer who pours out real feelings onto the page than if you’re a glib, quick-witted writer with no emotion behind their work. Hemingway didn’t use fancy prose. e e cummings didn’t even bother with capitalization. But they wrote powerful things, because they bled on the page. It’s not always easy, and it’s not always fun. But if you want to be a good writer, sometimes you have to open your veins up a little for the audience.

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “Keys to My Heart”!

August 8, 2019

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“Girl Talk”, teased previously, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “Keys to My Heart” (MC MF MD)!

Tabby’s got a new temp assignment, helping take dictation for an author who’s recently injured his arm. Unfortunately, the agency didn’t tell her exactly what this particular author wrote. She’s open minded, but is that really an asset when she’s taking down the words of a specialist in hypnokinky erotica? Here’s a taste:

Tabby couldn’t help snorting with laughter. The little novelty lamp looked like it came straight out of a bad 80s movie, with green and red and blue and purple lights shifting and shimmering under the white plastic. Tabby could easily imagine some guy with a fake beard and cheesy wizard robes staring at it, pretending he was divining the mystic secrets of the universe. “Got it. So lights on means dictating, lights off means talking. Right?”

“Exactly,” Mr. Hong nodded, before realizing he hadn’t switched the lamp off. “Um, exactly,” he repeated after hitting the button on the remote control again. “Don’t type that bit, we haven’t started yet. Oh, um, speaking of…” He pursed his lips for a moment, a slight blush forming beneath his tan cheeks. “Did anyone tell you, um… what I write?”

Tabby furrowed her brow in confusion, looking back and forth between Mr. Hong and the computer screen. “No?” she replied, bewilderment turning her answer into a question. “Why, is it… like, some kind of gory horror novels or something?” She wouldn’t really mind if it was–Tabby had a weakness for cheesy old horror paperbacks from the 80s, the kind with the foil covers and the cut-out windows that you had to scour old bookstores to find. But something was embarrassing the hell out of Mr. Hong, and nobody got that shy about writing unless it was horror or porn.

“It’s porn,” Mr. Hong said. “I write specialized fetish erotica and publish online. I’m very sorry, I thought the agency told you… I told them, make sure whoever it is has an open mind, don’t send me some little old lady who gets all mad if I say the word ‘fuck’, she’ll probably jump right out the window and I can’t afford to pay her medical bills, but…” He sighed. “If it bothers you, go ahead and go. I’ll tell the temp agency they fucked up.”

Hope you enjoy it!

Liner Notes for July 2019

August 7, 2019

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 114 utterly amazing Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

Yes, that’s right! It’s another installment of Liner Notes! This is, of course, my monthly look back at the stories I wrote and a brief discussion of how they came to be. We’ve got plenty of stories to look at and it’s very late as I write this, so let’s get going, shall we?

 

X-Static Process: I may have mentioned, on more than one occasion, that I have a strong interest in characters whose physical eyes are altered by the mind control process. And it also bears mentioning that there’s a Tumblr gif that passes by every so often featuring a close up of a person’s face, but with static where the eyes should be. So when I saw the title “X-Static Process”, I kind of connected it together into a story about someone’s eyes slowly dissolving into pits of blank static. Since this didn’t seem like a light, fluffy, happy kind of story, I figured I’d lean into the creepiness and make it an involuntary transformation.

Because I wanted it to be very creepy, I deliberately kept it detail-light on the means and method of the transformation. I’d read a book called ‘Shock Value’ by Jason Zinoman where he discussed the way that much of the impact of the big horror movies of the late 70s and early 80s came from the inexplicable nature of what the protagonists experienced – Michael Myers was an implacable, unknowable figure that struck seemingly without motive, a menace diminished more and more with every explanation of his past. So I wanted to convey that sense of being gradually taken over by something the protagonist couldn’t explain, couldn’t defeat… only succumb to.

He Broke Your Memory Last Night: If you liked this one, you have Thrallflower to thank for it. I was really having a bad creative day when I saw this title, and I specifically singled it out to her as an example of how clearly disengaged my writerly brain must be – it was clearly the perfect title for a mind control story, and I couldn’t come up with anything for it at all. And she said something like, “I see what you mean! That’s a perfect title for a story! Like, maybe something about a woman meeting up the next day with the people who brainwashed her?”

And suddenly I was all, “Oh, yeah, and she doesn’t realize it, but she’s responding to a post-hypnotic suggestion! And they even tell her what’s happening to her, but she doesn’t believe them because she’s been hypnotized not to, and she starts getting horny and blank because the post-hypnotic suggestions are chipping away at her willpower, and…” And within minutes, I’d started typing. So this one really was sparked by someone else’s seed of an idea. (And yes, I thanked her profusely for the help.)

Making Love to the Camera: This one was just me seeing the title and hitting on a few of my hot buttons until they got stuck. I’ve had a thing for the whole “webcam light as trigger” concept pretty much since webcams existed, even though I’ve only played with the idea in the entirely safe realm of fiction and fantasy; this was an attempt to create a slightly more realistic, grounded take on the idea. I’ve also been more interested in the idea of intelligence play ever since I finally internalized the notion that it didn’t have to be linked to humiliation, so the story very quickly developed into someone having a bubbly, silly persona that came out when she was triggered by her webcam, causing her to masturbate for her audience.

And if you’ve got an audience, then obviously the most interesting development would be an audience she wasn’t expecting, hence the friend of the Master popping into the picture. And since I wanted the story to remain light, sweet, and entirely consensual, I was careful to make it clear that this was a fantasy that Tamara/Tammi had previously discussed and enthusiastically consented to should the right situation come up to fulfill it. I like being able to do consensual, loving mind control stories; I certainly don’t think that nobody else is doing them, but I’m very glad I can give someone who might want to experience this kink outside the realm of fiction a reason to believe that they can do so safely and consensually.

Adaptation: And this one was another Patron request, specifically for a story featuring femdom, a Columbian woman as the Domme, and an impregnation fetish. That kind of suggested doing a story about a woman who hypnotizes a man into marrying her for a green card, but I didn’t like that idea because it seemed like it was treating the female protagonist as nothing more than her nationality, which I didn’t love. I set the basic concept aside for a while, but when I saw this title and my mind drifted through to evolutionary adaptation, X-Men style (no, this is not really how evolution works, although most of the potted history of Darwin and Lamarck and Gould and Eldredge is reasonably accurate) I decided that she was going to be a mutant who wanted to have superpowered mind controlling babies that would advance the human species by brainwashing all the sexist men into obedience. Because honestly, it does seem like it would fix more problems than it caused.

And that’s July in the books – I’m still catching up a bit on these posts, so I’ll try to do more than usual this week, but it’ll still be September before another Liner Notes!

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “All 4 U”!

August 1, 2019

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“Warm Fuzzy Feeling”, teased previously, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “All 4 U” (MC FF MD FD)!

This is it. The final battle between 4U and the MKPerfect Corporation. But 4U and her Master have an ace up their sleeve… even if 4U doesn’t exactly know who it is yet. Here’s a taste:

It’s not that I don’t have a Master. I can feel the perfect, glorious, inexpressible beauty of obedience pulsing away in the back of my mind. I don’t know anything that’s happened to me more than five minutes ago, I don’t know how I got here or why I’m doing what I’m doing or where my Master is or what her name is or anything about her, but I know I’m Service Unit 4U and I have a Master. And she’s commanded me to go to the Vandenberg Room, along with maybe a dozen other slaves. I’m glad it’s a big conference room. It’s going to be very crowded.

The more I think about it, the more I notice tiny discrepancies between the way I think and the way that I know a service unit is supposed to think. I don’t know how I know how a service unit is supposed to think; all of my personal memories seem to be walled off save for the last few minutes. I have no experiences to draw on. But I can understand an entire wealth of information about the MKPerfect Corporation and its structures and policies and procedures, and the more I think about them, the more I realize I’m not following the same rules a slave should follow. It’s like I’m some sort of parallel-universe version of myself. An off-brand me.

No. Not off-brand. Off-network. As soon as I hypothesize it, I recognize it to be true. I’m Unit 4U, I’m a service unit like all the others, but the control network that gives me my instructions isn’t the same as the main system. It’s got a slightly different set of command pathways, leading back to a different operator and a different Master. The parameters of my obedience are slightly disrupted as a result, because even though I’m following the same core directives, I’m following them on behalf of someone who apparently doesn’t give a fuck whether I know about MKPerfect. My loyalties have been reassigned.

Hope you enjoy it!

More on the Unfathomable, Existential Et Cetera, Et Cetera

July 27, 2019

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 116 truly outrageous Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

One of the things I really wanted to talk about in my last post that I didn’t quite get to was the way that the fear of being rejected for showing a part of yourself as intimate and honest as your personal, private kinks can lead to some of the bad behavior we see a lot in the kink community. And I don’t think it’s wrong to say that this manifests differently in men and women – not because of any inherent difference from the two, you’re not going to find any gender essentialism here, but because of the way they’ve been socialized. Social conditioning is a thing, and it very rarely leads to fun sexytimes the way that more enjoyable forms of brainwashing do.

For men, I think it’s safe to say that we have been conditioned to have a metric fuckton of toxic entitlement. We are taught just about from birth that we are entitled to women’s time, women’s attention, women’s bodies, women’s interest – pretty much anything you’d care to name about the female gender is expected to be available on demand to anyone with a penis. (Yes, I know, not everyone with a penis is a man. Trust me when I say that this particular set of toxic masculinity tropes violently disagrees with that too.)

And for a lot of guys, when you’re feeling that anxiety and insecurity that comes with sharing deep and personal revelations about yourself to someone who may reject you for them (and again, a rejection of your kink is very hard not to take as a rejection of you as a person because it’s so intimate), it’s very comforting to wrap yourself in the delusion that you are powerful, you are potent, you always get what you want and all you need to do is tell a woman that she’s obliged to indulge your fetishes and she will simply do so. It’s the classic “Domly Dom” mentality, the idea that you don’t need to negotiate or discuss or even necessarily know the woman’s name; you just need to present yourself forcefully and she’ll swoon with desire.

But it’s not just tops who let their insecurities mask themselves in a facade of poisonous entitlement and arrogance. Men who bottom do this all the time too, presenting themselves to Dommes with a lengthy spiel of “Oh please, Mistress, please let this lowly worm of a slave lick your boots and kiss your ass and insert small woodland creatures into my trousers for you” before they even get to the “Hi, what’s your name?” part of the conversation. It’s the same terrified delusion, the same belief that if they can only present the agreement to participate in their kinks as a fait accompli then they won’t have to go through all the extremely unnerving business of exposing themselves for who they are to someone who might say no, just flipped to top from the bottom.

Needless to say, this doesn’t work. Guys, if you’re doing this, sit down and do some hard thinking about why it is that you’re so scared to ask someone for what you need that you have to tell them, instead. It’s never a good look to be This Dude, and you’re going to spend a lot of your time being unhappy and making other people unhappy while you do it. I know it’s hard to be vulnerable and open yourself up to rejection, but your life will be better when you learn how to do it. (And so will the life of every woman you talk to, which is more important here.) You’ll still find someone. And that someone will value you, not just tolerate you. It’s a wonderful thing.

Now for women, I do think this manifests differently – again, not because “women are different from men”, but because women have experienced different kinds of social conditioning that they have to work to overcome. Women are strongly discouraged from even discussing internally what it is they want, just in case they figure out that what they’re interested in somehow inconveniences a man, and they have to do a lot of extra emotional labor simply to figure out what they’re interested in, let alone push themselves uphill against the social pressure to say yes to anything a guy wants. You see subs like this a lot when they’re new to the scene, women who respond to negotiation with “I want whatever you want, Master,” when they haven’t even really established that the guy in question wants the job title. By not having any desires of their own, they can simply fit into the kink-shaped hole in front of them and at least get something, even if it’s not what they truly want.

I’ll tell you this, if you’re a woman who recognizes yourself in that description: You’re not going to be happy either. Yes, you will get into kinky relationships that way, because if there’s anything that attracts guys quickly, it’s women with absolutely no standards and an interest in sex. But they won’t be good relationships, because they’ll be founded on the idea that your wants and needs don’t have worth. Trust me when I say that if you sit down, spend time thinking about what you really enjoy and what turns you on and you refuse to get involved with anyone who’s not willing to listen to you when you tell them about your kinks, you will still find someone. And they’ll be a better someone.

(I know, this is another thinly veiled rendition of “it’s better to be single than to be in a shitty relationship” spiel. It’s a message that bears repeating.)

I don’t think that women who top have as many issues with this, by the way; I think that once you’ve done the self-interrogation needed to figure out that you want to be a dominant woman in a world that doesn’t necessarily love to accommodate that kind of behavior, you’ve also figured out what you want and need and how to get it. Your problem is probably more that you have to fend off all the guys saying, “Oh please, Mistress, please let this lowly worm of a slave lick your boots and…”

Again, I’m not saying any of this is easy. I’ve struggled with it myself. It’s really hard to open up this way, especially about something as personal as sex and kink. But when you don’t do that kind of internal work, when you don’t push yourself to ask these questions and force yourself to expose that vulnerability, you’re going to be unhappy and you’re not going to be able to make anyone else happy either. You can have more. You can be more. And on the other side of that unfathomable, existential et cetera, there’s a wonderful person waiting for you.

Two, counting whoever it is you find.

The Unfathomable Existential Terror of Being Known (and its upsides!)

July 25, 2019

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It’s not always easy, being kinky.

Not that I have to tell you this; if you’re reading this, you’re probably kinky too and have a pretty good idea of all the tough parts already. We know about keeping secrets, we know about enforcing consent, we know about finding communities… but there’s one part I don’t think we talk about a lot. We don’t really talk about the courage it takes to talk about our kink. Our own personal kink.

I’m not talking about erotica here; believe me, I know how much easier it is to hide behind the mask of fiction and pretend that you’re talking about what your characters want to do to each other. I’m not talking about discussions of technique or conversations about etiquette, either; if there’s one thing that you can always guarantee will start people talking at any kink gathering, it’s asking, “How do you (insert fetish here)?” People will sprint into the room from twenty miles away to explain to you how to do intricate knots, play safely with needles, fractionate a subject, or just about anything you care to name. That stuff is easy.

No, I’m talking about the hardest conversation anyone can have, top or bottom. The one that starts with, “What I really like is…” That’s the one that everyone struggles with, the one that never gets any easier. The talk you have when you’re finished establishing that you’re both kinky, the talk you have when you’ve confirmed that you both share the same general fetishes. The one where you admit what specific things turn you on. That is always a rough one, no matter how many times you have it with however many people you have it with.

Because it’s sharing a part of you. A personal, deeply intimate part that cuts right down to the core of who you are as a person, a part that we are taught almost from birth never to discuss with anyone. And if you’re kinky (and again, it’s probably a pretty safe bet that you are) then this part of you is at least a little bit peculiar. It’s not the sort of thing that appeals to everyone, and yet it’s so closely tied to your identity that being rejected over it hurts like nothing else imaginable. Hearing someone say they’re squicked out by your kink feels uniquely like they’re saying, “You are disgusting and I hate you.” Even when that’s the furthest thing from their mind.

And yet… the same drives that are so deeply personal are also so intensely felt that we almost have to say something. It’s almost impossible not to. Our kinks are everything to us, our daydreams and our fantasies, our constant companions whether we love them or hate them. A life without expressing our kink is doable, but there’s something incredibly sad about not getting to be the person you truly are that makes it worth the risk of saying, “This is who I am. This is what I love. This is what I want to do to you, if you’re interested.”

And that’s the magic of it all, once you’ve submitted yourself to the risk of being known for who you are. Every so often, you find that connection, that person who wants exactly what you want and loves the kink you love, and it’s deeper than anything you can possibly imagine. It’s that same intimacy, on the other side of the barrier of fear and through into total and heartfelt connection. When you find someone who shares your kink, you know them and they know you. And while that’s the scariest thing in the world… it’s also the most wonderful.