On being a “Happy Sadist”.
Too often, sadists in the BDSM lifestyle are portrayed as stern, overbearing, mean, even abusive men or women who enjoy causing pain and suffering just because they can. The image of a domineering woman and a simpering man or big burly man in leathers and weak abused woman cowering at his feet is all too common when thinking of what a sadist is.
First, I am a sadist. I enjoy the little cries of pain as the flogger comes down on a sub’s back, blushes of embarrassment when I unveil her to all and sundry at a play party, the sharp intake of breath as the needles slide into her breasts, the way she dances on the balls of her feet when I grab her nipples and pull her towards me and especially the momentary look of fire in her eyes just before the handprint on her cheek flares just as bright.
All of those things can, and often, are done by people in a mean, overbearing way. In scene, when appropriate for the mood, I too can take on that role. But without the whimsy and fun and laughter to balance it out, that role can get damned depressing.
I’ll give a couple of examples to highlight that balance.
While working for a company we affectionately called “Idiot’s, Inc” I often came home frustrated, tired, disgusted and worn out. SAM (yes, my own dear Smart Assed Masochist) would meet me at the door with a glass of rum, a cigar and wearing heels and a smile. She would sit me down, take off my shoes and curl up at my knees while I unwound. Once relaxed a bit, the fun would begin.
Our scenes varied quite widely as we’re both fairly creative people. Physically, however, we’re both on the aggressive side and it’s a wonder the neighbors never called the cops. Shoving her against the wall, wrestling around the apartment, furniture being knocked around, and other such noises of ‘things not normal’ were quite frequent. Also frequent were cries of pain, louder noises of a very sexual evening.
One night in particular, I was feeling a bit detached because of some incredible stupidity at work (even more so than normal for Idiots, Inc) and sensing this, SAM was even more Smart Assed than usual. This brought out a deeper level of sadist than normal. This was the first night I used needles on her. The scene was lengthy even for us and afterwards we spent most of the night curled up on the couch together in mutual aftercare. I had gone deeper into the sadist role than ever before and pushed even my own boundaries, as well as hers further than, in retrospect, I was comfortable with.
We still talk about that night on occasion. It left an indelible mark on both of us and the conversations afterwards that came from it have greatly strenghtened our love and trust not just for each other but for ourselves as well.
On another night, not too long after that, we had a scene that on the surface was it’s antithesis. The night began much like others did after a long day of dealing with the congenital stupidity of all but one of my co-workers and a ninety minute drive through traffic home. To top it off, I’d had to deal with my ex-wife about something that should have been trivial but wasn’t.
See above for standard entry pattern. Rum in hand, I sit staring out the window for a few minutes. SAM let’s me sit in peace, curled up next to me on the couch. After a few minutes she takes the initiative and one thing leads to another and we’re not so much in scene as in a different mental space. It’s just us with the rest of the world ‘out there’ somewhere.
At some point during the evening I have her tied to the bed and for whatever reason need to re-do the ties. I ask her a question that to this day she ribs me about on a regular basis.
I ask her “If I untie you will you be good?” Her answer of “Are you stupid???” with a shocked look of disbelief on her face got exactly the response from me that we both needed. A laugh, a sharp slap and we proceded with a fun, laughter filled, though at times for her a bit painful, evening.
We still laugh about that evening. The same way the term ‘flogger elbow’ creeps into conversation now and then.
It’s those moments of laughter that balance out the moments of pain. Both are important to our relationship with each other and with our own selves. Those are the moments that prove that we can trust each other, that we can trust ourselves to be ourselves and that we can both laugh and cry and the world will not end.
When I look back on my love life, all 27 years of it, it’s those moments of laughter that I remember the most. Even amidst some of the most intense, physically powerful and, yes, sadistic scenes I have participated in, there is always that bit of joy beneath the surface for both of us. And it is that joy that makes life so good being a Happy Sadist.