Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘masochism’

Graham has just posted a though-provoking post, which concludes:

Anyway. I’d be interested to know how you feel about submission v. masochism – do you identify more as one or the other, or both? Does it change depending on the week, day, scene? Are you so label-transcending and over this shit that you don’t even think about it anymore?

Well, Graham, I am both, obviously.

I would point out that submission can be explored just as well in roleplay scenes (or other limited time-period options) as well as 24/7 “Serve my Master’s Needs all day and night” situations … and for someone starting their explorations, the former is much, much better than the latter!

This is not the only aspect of submission. From: TheTrainingOfO.com

There is some confusion about “submission,” which I blame on the BDSM folk’s propensity to put forth an “I am more of a ‘bottomless pit’ than thou” attitude. It’s like there is some competition between subs about who can take more pain, who can be more submissive, who is willing to give up more of their life for their D/s dynamic. It’s horrid, and it really messes with the heads of the people who are new to the scene and trying to find themselves a place within it. (Speaking from experience, here!)

The confusion about submission comes in when people assume it has to be this full-on thing. But the fact of the matter is that if you bend over for a caning or some whacks from a hair-brush, you are in that moment being submissive (regardless of whether you are a masochist, and indeed, if you are not a masochist, you are being even more submissive in that moment!) Only if every spanking you get involves you being tied down so tight you can’t move, after being “taken down” because you were unwilling to stand still for being tied up, does a spanking not include some greater or lesser amount of submission.

That doesn’t make you a submissive. There’s times throughout any vanilla day when you are compliant, acquiescent, or just passive, and those are all synonyms for “submissive” – and that doesn’t make you a submissive either. As any dog could tell you – there are times when it’s just a plain good idea to roll on your back and expose your tummy and wag your tail.

So playing around with submission is no big deal, and to some extent it is in most spanking scenes, regardless of whether you admit (or recognize it) it or not. You can take it up to another level by talking about it, and adding more of that dynamic, but being conscious of it and playing with it don’t mean it’s suddenly an ingredient that wasn’t in the recipe before – you’re just changing it up from a tablespoon to three Tbs., and maybe using grated fresh submission instead of dried powdered submission.

To address the other part of the question, my Master* and I started out with a very D/s dynamic, partially because that’s what I knew (coming from that world and not the Spanko one), and he was excited about playing with that dynamic.

Over time that has evolved, and I’d say we are now more Daddy/girl, or more like the domestic discipline people (although we don’t have a lot of things in common with them, otherwise!) but my submission has not changed in a number of ways: I try to serve him in such a way that it makes his life better (this involves making a lot of tea for him – not a very difficult charge!) and I accept his discipline.

I don’t shift in my submissive level as regards my Master very much. I can get in a shirty mood and be less considerate and obliging (and refuse to follow rules) but that is not a shift in personality as much as it is me being a spoiled half-child half-adult who needs some discipline! (As regards other people, I am not particularly submissive at all — I’m a take-charge kinda gal! A favourite saying from the BDSM world: “I’m submissive — but I’m not your submissive!”)

So I would say that most people’s labels/definitions don’t fit us very well, although saying that he is dominant and I am submissive gets a certain amount of information across most effectively, and our unique variations can be discussed in the depth they deserve, if the person actually wants to hear all about it!

*I capitalize “Master” because to me it’s a proper noun and thus should take a capital. No one else has to call him “Master,” and if they want to say, “Your master is a wonderful and fabulous man,” they don’t need to capitalize the M-word. But the whole D/s capitalization thang is an aspect of the “kinkier than thou” problem, and thus deserves to be disregarded as juvenile and ridiculous. No, I ain’t mincing words on this matter!

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Life being what it is, the minute my Master and got back to the place where we could have full-on hot scenes, life got too busy to play, or even to do blog entries! (Which is my way of apologizing for being MIA all last week….)

However, I am now sitting (uncomfortably) in the warm (stinging) glow of a post-playtime afternoon, with lots of stuff to tell you all, and at least a bit of time to do it. (If I haven’t done an hour of yoga by the time my Master returns home, well, I really don’t want to contemplate what the Evil Paddle would feel like on my bottom at this juncture – I may be a masochist, but I’m not stupid!)

Today was all about the cane. Sadly, I was not in the headspace that I’d been in all week, when my every thought (when it wasn’t about work, which was sadly all too often) was about how lovely it would be to be bent over the bed with the cane whistling down repeatedly upon my bottom….

Today, of course, I just couldn’t be eager and rarin’ to go. No. I had to be very low-energy and somewhat depressed and really more in the, “How ‘bout a nice snuggle?” sort of place. And it didn’t help that, after the post-breakfast’s fiddling-around-on-the-computers time, we had one of those stupid couple miscommunications. I sat back, realized the day was progressing more rapidly than I realized, and asked him, “So, what does our time schedule for today look like?”

He seems to have heard that as, “Can we play now, huh huh?!” when what I meant was, “Should I go have a bath and shave now because you might want to play later, or is there no time for that today?” He responded to what he heard by gesturing at something on which he was working on the computer, and said, “We’ll talk about that later.” But since what thought I had communicated was, “Shall we plan things out so that we can setting up play at an optimal time for you?” I felt really brushed off and like he couldn’t even bother to plan out the day with me, so I stomped off to my room, pouting and hurting. (I hadn’t been being disingenuous, by the way, but was trying to bring the topic up in such a way that if he needed to say, “No play today, sorry,” it was simpler and less emotionally fraught for him.)

About an hour or so later, he called out to me, “Girl, come here.” (I think he knew he’d somehow hurt my feelings, if not exactly the whys and wherefores of it, and this was sort of a dual-purpose thing where he both let me know that those hurt feelings could be put aside, because play-time was upon us, and he was at the same time saying I’d better put the hurt feelings aside, because he was ready to dominate me. (As it is hard to hold onto your sullen emotional pouting and be submissive at the same time!)

I worked hard at just letting go of the remaining pain from the miscommunication, but, as it was, I still wasn’t in a great space. And he was being very sweet and tender with me, which was probably the right thing, the best way to express that he had understood my hurt feelings and was ready to move on from them with me … but it is also something I find very confusing and hard to process. In my fantasies, CP or other ouchie things are seldom preceded by loving gentleness. It’s much more the rough and violent or cold and distant sort of thing. I do have the occasional fantasy about a “Daddy is sad he has to punish his little girl, but he has to do it for her own good” OTK spanking, although even then that tends to lead to Daddy making his girl suffer the discomfort and humiliation of anal penetration, also “for her own good” (there is something quite sexy about quiet forcefulness and gentle but relentless domination, a feeling that despite – or even more because of – understanding and compassion, your fate is inexorable.)

However, that occasional fantasy didn’t help me much at the time. If it had been something he wanted to role-play, that would have helped set it up for me … but he didn’t want to play at being other people, in other circumstances: just him and me, with me accepting pain and discipline from him.
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A smart and fun spanko blogger named Graham (who is “a young American woman currently living in Eastern Europe”) has the cane on her mind. (And who doesn’t, really?!) In a recent post she demands:

So, be honest. Tell me what the cane does to you. No euphemisms, no down-playing the effects — and no exaggerating them, either. Or it’ll be canings for the lot of you!

Alright then! The truth, and nothing but the truth! (Although I still want my caning!)

A caning hurts. Quite a lot. It’s a white-hot slash of pure pain that shocks you upon impact … and then builds up and up until you think you may go crazy. And then, when it’s died down to the point when you are thinking that maybe sanity is an option again … the next stroke comes slashing down…!

And it’s the hottest, hottest thing in the whole wide world.
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I’m blogging live from the UK [grins] now, and will be for a couple weeks. I intend to finally catch you lot up with everything that’s happened in the last few whirlwind weeks! It’s going to take a lot of writing to accomplish this!

Where to start…?

Ahhh, since I’ve deprived you all terribly of posts about my own personal kinky life, I’ll start with the last scene my Master and I did before leaving on our trip….

He wanted me in my blue cotton knickers that day, and as I went to get them, I felt the thrill that always goes through me when I go to put on something he has ordered that I wear, for his pleasure, and knowing that I’m about to be taken for a swim into unknown depths of masochism and submission.

On went the blue cotton knickers, which I must admit don’t horrify me as much as the nylon ones do. These ones are actually almost sexy, even to my high standards!

It was, of course, the first day of my period. We always have the time and opportunity and desire to do a scene on the first day of my period – very frustrating! Well, it really wasn’t that much of a problem because neither of us minds sex during that time, it’s just that my pain-tolerance is always way down. Which isn’t actually a problem for him – he gets more buck for his bang, as it were, but it bothers me, because, well, I hate looking like a sissy! I like being able to be stoic and take the pain. (For as long as possible, at least, because he always takes me past the point of stoicism – to the point of tears and snot and gulping in air….)

He had me lie in the middle of the bed, on my tummy, and took a strap to my bottom. I was soon crying out and having trouble holding still, so he backed off and, sitting on the bed, pulled me over his lap for a spanking. After the strap, the spanking was just pleasure, even when my bottom got very hot and sensitive.

He then informed me that the three new canes we’d just bought were now about to get their inaugural action. I had by then gotten to a headspace where, even though I was pretty terrified about three canes being used gods-know-how-many-times up on my overly-sensitive bottom cheeks, I just said, “Yes, Sir,” and accepted my fate without worrying too much about how painful things were about to become.
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