Saynine

Selfish

I am a selfish individual.

It is true. I am very good at providing an appearance of a very self-confident and strong person, but there is someone who has to see another side of me. Someone who is always there at my darkest hour and loves me in spite of my many failings. Someone who I have taken so much from, and gotten so good at taking from that I fail to even recognize how much I take.

This is not a post looking for condolence or congratulations, and will likely be the most rambling and possibly incoherent essay I have ever posted to these pages. It is a confession and self-realization that is spilling out of me as I think it. Of course even that is selfish by it’s nature.

I present to the world what I think will benefit me the most. That which I think will support my domly persona, and some sort of master of polyamory. Of course it is easy to pontificate about polyamory and compersion when things are working out exactly how you hope, when every scenario fits your expectations.

But how impressive is it to fold like a house of cards when things do not fit your expectations? How absolutely selfish is it to spill your darkest thoughts and insecurities on the one who has traveled the very hardest road with you, all in the name of open communication? I have infected the very happiness that I so boldly and publicly claimed to want for this amazing person with the creeping doubt, created with vile words that I can never take back. Is there any more selfish act than to take and take, to use to prop my own fragile ego, then when they find some exquisite joy, taint it with thoughts that should never be shared.

I have asked her to be proud of me when there is little to take pride in myself. To smile and tell the world how lucky she is when It is I who have always been the beneficiary of her patience.

The simple truth is sometimes we have a responsibility to put on a happy fucking face and support the one who has supported us. But takers like myself see only as far as our own needs. I know this sounds morose, but I have done much I am not proud of.

There is a part of me that wonders if even posting this is a continuation of a pattern. Am I seeking absolution and hoping that she will read this and tell me that it is ok, that my behavior is not as bad as I now see it to be? There is another part of me that hopes that maybe in her busy life she will not even read this. it will just slip by unnoticed.

The most important question I can ask now is how do I change my patterns. How can I be the partner and friend that she has always been to me? I don’t have all the answers but I do know that I pledge to myself to be someone who she can be proud of. Not a pride to be spoken to the world, but the kind of private pride that makes your heart swell. Someone with whom she can always look forward to sharing her fears and insecurities. I have made a private list of goals that no one including her will ever see. This is a list of ways that I can break old habits and be what I have so longed lead others to believe I am. To look at myself in the mirror and not see a selfish man staring back at me.

If you do find this. If you happen upon this. Know that I will always fall down, but it is for you that I will pick myself up. I love you.

Tags: Confidence, Introspection, Polyamory, Selfish

Is Kink a Choice?

Why Do You Want To Hurt Me

A common question I am asked is “What do you get out of sadism?” or “Why do you enjoy causing pain, humiliation, degradation, domination, etc.?”. I’m not sure there are any easy answers to these questions, but I am so very interested in exploring it. I don’t necessarily believe that humiliation or domination is the same kink as sadism, but for me they are very much intertwined. So for the purpose of this discussion I am going to speak to all of my kinks that are related to physical and mental sadism.

A first clue lies in the fact that I get similar enjoyment from mental anguish experienced by a consenting partner as I do from physical suffering. The suffering that shadows the eyes of someone licking cum off the floor triggers an excitement in me rivaled by the thrill of feeling the primal resistance of a body fighting against the pain of my teeth sinking deep into their flesh, or the twitch of a body receiving painful cane strokes. it is the suffering of the mind that brings my blood to boil. Suffering of the flesh is just the match to gasoline of the torturing of the mind, and this I believe is the reason I can take my pleasure at a distance. That is right, I can engage in and celebrate that darkest of kinks, “Long Distance Play”. I also have found that I can to a great degree receive satisfaction from watching someone else or even in some instances just knowing about someone else torturing another. But I suspect I am not alone in this.

Curious is the fact that I see to feel no distinction in the torturing of those who accept it as a type of service play, or a true masochist or pain-slut. It may be because in my experience even those that take great pleasure from the pain, or humiliation or even simple submission must process the thoughts or sensations that are naturally rejected by the human body and brain, and reprocess these into pleasure, even if it is quite subconsciously. Even the masochist can be heard to say ouch.

I am well aware that there are plenty of folks that will take umbrage with me uniting dominance and sadism for the purpose of this discussion, and I cannot argue that for others dominance can exist as a fulfilling kink on its own outside any sort of sadistic pleasure. However, for me, they are intertwined. This also addresses a common misconception about me and possibly other sadists that can take their play to edgy extremes. It is a question of how I/we can take equal pleasure playing with a newbie or very light player. Simply, the pleasure is in the suffering. for some folks even a light spanking can be very difficult to bare. That difficulty is what inflames me.

I truly do not know if I can answer the question of why? Why do I love to see you cry, to beg? Why do I want you to suffer? But make no mistake I do. And one of the greatest revelations of my life is that there are folks that want to suffer for me. Folks that want to look up at me pleading while my hand over their mouth and nose deny them breathe.

So I turn the question. Why do you want to hurt for me?

Tags: BDSM, dominance, Impact, pain, Play, suffering

Informed Consent

Lately I have been giving a lot of thought to the idea of “Informed Consent” and the role it plays in BDSM play and negotiation.

I think a majority of BDSM players, at least those who participate in any heavy physical play at all, have come to realize that the idea of the acronym SSC “Safe, Sane and Consensual” was a good term to create spin against a growing fear of SM that was growing in the 80′s. However, to classify much of what we do as “safe” or “sane” is counterproductive to informed negotiation.

More recently the acronym RACK or Risk Aware Consensual Kink has come to better describe the concept behind ethical BDSM play. And this is the jumping off point for what I want to discuss.

If you follow me on twitter, or some of my play partners you may be aware that I sometimes engage in very heavy impact play, and other “edge play” that can result in very obvious marking of the sub or bottom. As empathetic humans our brains often trigger a response of sympathy towards the “victim” of such play, and anger or disgust at the perpetrator of such “abuse”. What is not often clear is the extensive exchange of information and consent involved in the prior negotiation of such play.

As a Dom/Top negotiating such play, the very first thing I try to determine in the motivation of a partner interested in participating in such play. Is there a deep desire to experience a physical play outside the comfort zone based on a kink? Or is the motivation to prove something to themselves or others. The latter is a warning sign for me.

Secondarily the type of play and risks associated with it are discussed in-depth. I do my best to assure the other person that while I am experienced and use best practices, there is always risk of injury beyond what was intended, and such injuries can result in a need for medical intervention and possibly extended recovery time. I find it interesting that some folks find such a discussion shocking yet are not at all surprised when a friend or co-worker is injured and misses work due to sports or recreational injuries.

Recently I began playing on a semi-regular basis with someone who was very eager to explore their limits of mental and physical edge play. Before our initial play date I discussed in depth the possible types of play we may engage in, including such things as spanking, paddling, caning, and slapping. We discussed possible risks and I suggested we play on a Friday so that they would have a weekend to recover before work on Monday.

At the end of a moderately heavy play session my new playmate expressed what a good time she had but that she regretted that we has not played harder, and after a few days when the bruises faded she was sad to see them go. I explained that for a first time of play this feeling of wanting more was perfect, but if by the next time we prepared to play she felt she wanted to take things further, we would negotiate for it.

Within a month we were in fact negotiating much heavier physical and psychological play. She confirmed that she wanted to take the level of play much further. Again I watched for signs that this request was based on anything other than a kinky desire to explore limits. As the scheduled time was established I suggested that a weekend would not be enough recovery time and that she should consider taking several days off, which she did. I also asked several times on several days if she understood that the sort of play I had in mind -heavy impact play, including paddles, canes, fists, and well as choking, and intense humiliation and other psychological play- could result in injuries that could result in a need for medical intervention. I made it clear that this was not my intent and I would endeavor to prevent this, but that I did need verbal confirmation that she understood. And she did.

The planned date came and play proceeded as I intended. It was intense, and exciting, but also fun and fulfilling for both parties. There was bruising, welts, and even a bit of localized bleeding. There were no injuries that required more than a bit of cleanup and some aftercare. Both were provided.

In a gesture of celebration of the play we both made some photos of the resulting damage available through several social media outlets, that day and the following.

There were of course the expected exclamations of shock, and some of envy. A wide range of response is expected when pictures like this are presented to an audience of mixed experience, and we appreciated all the comments.

What happened in the ensuing days is what is very interesting. A vanilla-ish friend of my play partner discovered the photos and was shocked and unhappy about them. This was an unfortunate outcome. However what I find intriguing are the “Kink Friendly” folks that in the following days expressed privately and semi-publicly to my playmate that they were concerned for her welfare and safety. And this is not the first time I have experienced this. I truly question the motivation of these folks, but more important I think is the point that other folks are not party to the negotiation between play partners and should not presume to know anything about what was involved in the consent to such play.

I think such inquiries serve to undermine the confidence that a bottom has in their decision to trust a Dom/Top even after the fact.

In truth “Informed Consent” is formed between play partners and is the basis of ethical BDSM play. I feel fortunate to live in a State where one person can consent to trust their safety to the skill and instincts of a partner or partners.

Tags: Consent, Impact

I’m Here, I’m Queer???

I have lately given much thought to labels and how we choose and use them. I have for sometime used the label “Pansexual”. I use this to indicate that my sexual appetite is not limited by gender barriers. I am in fact sexually greedy and find I have desires and the will to have sexual contact with just about any gender configuration imaginable.  I intentionally avoid “Bi-Sexual” as the binary term irritates me and also seems to indicate a sort of switching back and forth. At least to me.

Lately there has been a word, no an idea that has been bouncing around my head. Queer! Wow, what a loaded word. A word I am drawn to but yet cannot decide if it fits.

I am not going to get into the etymology and origins of the word. I am only concerned with it’s current usage as a word of empowerment.

I am going to think aloud a bit and invite you as I so often have to take a front row seat to the bizarre thought process that is me.

My first question; Am I Worthy? On the one hand I am not only a greedy fucker, but I so completely support the politics that is the Queer movement, that I am almost certainly a part of it. But make no mistake. My current state of being is the result of a personal epiphany in my early twenties and a slow evolution since then. It is not easy to say this, but previous to the above stated revelation, I was a sexual bigot. I make no excuses but I was raised in an environment of Racial, Religious, and Sexual Hate. For reasons I have not yet discerned I was able to completely refuse to accept the first two, yet embraced the third. One theory is that it was a way to externalize a reaction to being sexualized by a male relative at a young age, but even that smells like an excuse, so I reject it. What is true is I accept responsibility for my attitudes and have spent the rest of my life trying to correct them.

Next question; How can I be Queer and look and act so appropriate for my gender? OK, maybe a bit of a silly question, but think about it. How many “Queer” Uber-Butch Cis-Males do you know? On the other hand, I have spent my entire life setting myself aside from the crowd appearance and action wise. In Xtian School I refused to sing hymns or kneel and pray. Not that either of these would have been hard to at least fake, but I made conscious choices to set myself apart in every way I could. In my teens I had both of my ears pierced in multiple locations. Now for this to have full impact you need to know that I am as old as dirt and this was before George Michael made this look at least remotely popular. And until my growing forehead made it just silly looking I had hair to my waist for decades.  And now long after such things are sensible, I have started wearing gauged earrings.  Of course none of these things makes me even remotely Queer, but do speak to a lifelong desire to set myself outside the crowd.

In the end the biggest question is one that I find the hardest to address; Do other Queers want me using their word, their empowerment, their symbol of struggle? This is an odd position to find myself in. Caring what others think, but I do. As someone who has married into the Native American community I am painfully familiar with how a people that are proud, yet steeped in struggle can have their culture and symbols of power appropriated by those who neither understand nor deserve these things. In using the title Queer would I be no better than a New-age Shamanist with a dreamcatcher hanging from my car mirror, telling folks that my great grandmother was a Cherokee Princess? This one Is the greatest hang-up.

In the balance I am quite aware that it does not matter what I call myself. But yet this is the itch on my brain these days.

Tags: Bi-Sexual, Gender, Journey, Pansexual, queer, Questions, Sex