Yeah, we know. It’s been almost a year since our last post. But what a hell of a year it’s been. The mundane world pretty much consumed all of our free time and energy. We haven’t even had an opportunity to break out the floggers and rope in a few weeks. But you know what? We’re still happy, we’re still content, and we still deeply love and cherish one another. That’s because BDSM is only a part of our rich and varied lives. There are many forms of intimacy and love and yes, even many forms of wild-scare-the-cats-and-neighbors-monkey-sex. All of those are a part of our menu of options.
On one side, it is intensely intimate to spend a couple of hours just gently exploring each others body, rubbing, massaging, feeling, breathing, kissing. No pressure, no goal, nothing but the blending of breath and sound and sensation and love. The other extreme is just as intimate. The trust and the passion and the energy; the release of inhibitions; the very primal nature of the struggle to conquer and be conquered, to bind with ropes, to blind with silk, to gag with leather. The sight of her arched back and the strain against the rope; the sound of her cries and whimpers as orgasm sweeps over her. The aroma of her arousal as my hand slides into her depths and the feeling of ‘hang on, it’s gonna get bumpy’ when she slides over the precipice into deep and violent orgasms from my hand inside her body and leaves me (the blankets, the mattress and once the floor at the end of the bed) soaked with her essence.
There is something else that is even more intimate to us. Spending a day just sitting in the den cuddling together on the couch talking and laughing and listening to music and watching really bad weather disaster movies on netflix. (Go watch Category 6 and it’s sequel Category 7. It’s almost as good as Sharknado. Trust us.) The physical and emotional intimacy of making love or wild, violent, primal sex is important, but so is the soft intimacy, emotional connection and spiritual healing that comes from a laughter filled day of shared lives together.
Many things are changing in our social and family environment over the rest of this year. We may, or may not have the inspiration to post here. I do have at least three photo essays with a how-to on topics I feel don’t get covered in the way I plan to cover them. They’re either too technical or just bad excuses to put porn on a web page. Watch this space for them over the next few weeks.
This post is much longer than I had intended, but what’s said needs to be said. So go forth, my dear readers, and have a fun, frolicsome, fornication filled day. This Happy Sadist insists, or I won’t spank you when I see you.
Ever get that questions from your partner? Never ends well, does it. You’re honest answer of “nothing” is never taken at face value. They question your answer and then the whole situation devolves into one of doubt, mistrust, frustration and distraction.
There’s a meme floating around that has a his and her diary entry. One side (in the case of the gender switched image floating most recently) has a “His” diary of doubt, miscommunication and woe where “Her” diary simply reads “my code is broken, can’t figure out why”.
What’s really going on here is summed up pretty succinctly by something SAM posted over on her Facebook:
“I love how instead of asking her “what’s wrong” he makes up this huge relationship disaster thing, and she’s just thinking about work. HE COULD JUST ASK HER. But no. That’s too risky.”
When I’m asked a general, information seeking question like “what’s wrong?” I always try to take a moment, look back on the last few minutes of conversation or interactions with an eye towards how my emotional or mental state may have shown on my expressions and body language. I make an effort to empathize with my partner and see myself through their eyes.
My internal reality isn’t pertinent at that moment, only my presentation of that reality. With that bit of self analysis, I’m able to effectively communicate “what’s wrong” because I the know “what’s wrong”. Usually “what’s wrong” is a miscommunication or crossed signal between us.
“What’s wrong?” can be answered by saying, honestly and with confidence “I’m worried about X” or “Just lost in thought; something is farked up with code at work and I’m distracted by it” or “Just thinking about X, Y, Z and Thee”.
When someone asks you “What’s Wrong”, the answer is never, ever, “nothing”. At the very least, “What’s wrong” is a misread signal between you. It’s rarely an accusation, though too many people take “What’s wrong?” as an accusation of “What’s wrong? You’re making me feel bad/nervous/left out” or “You’re not reading my mis-delivered signals and are making me feel ignored” or some such.
Correcting those missed signals requires an almost instinctual root cause analysis on you OWN behavior and it’s presentation to you partner.
Now the other side of that is that when you ask someone ‘What’s wrong”, trust them to tell you the truth and if they say “nothing” then believe them. You can usually trust them to mean “Nothing is wrong with you and me and us.”
I had a pretty good grasp of interpersonal communications for most of my teen and adult life. I am always examining and re-examining my interactions with people, especially those that did not turn out the way I wanted them too.
SAM has helped put a fantastic amount of polish on them in the almost 7 years she’s lived with me. We both had enough hidden emotional land mines to blanket a demilitarized zone. After the first couple, we both started forcing ourselves to take a step back and *asking* when the reaction we got wasn’t what was expected. The scariest part the first few times was being completely, brutally honest with ourselves AND each other. It really doesn’t take more than a few times for the world to NOT end when you’re open and vulnerable with your partner before that becomes *easier* than the whole “ugh grunt me man me no feel emotion!”.
So the next time you feel the need to ask your partner “What’s Wrong?”, accept the answer of “Nothing” and follow up with something more empathetic and understanding. Saying something like “Ok, but you seem distracted and distant. Anything I can do to distract you from your distractions?”
Make your partner feel safe to open up to you. If you accuse them of lying to you, you’ll never build any kind of trust. They’ll pull further away at best and, usually, start truly lying to you to prevent the entire spiral of accusations and acrimony that almost always results from that kind of interaction.
So how do you, dear readers, answer that question? What questions drive you batty? What answers make you grind your teeth? How do you work through them to a mutually beneficial, honest, and healthy interaction?
A full after action report from Dragon*Con 2011 will be coming in a day or two, after SAM and I have had a chance to compare notes. It’s always fun sitting down after a major convention and talking about what/who/where/when/how we did when not together.
We apologize for no updates during the convention but Wi-Fi access was spotty to non-existent all weekend. Now that we’re home, though, photos and all the sweaty details to come. Watch this space.
HS & SAM
Or to put it more accurately, I’m thanking myself for putting down the kindle or stepping away from the computer for a while to pounce on SaM.
Both of us, over the last few months, have settled into a comfortable routine in the evenings. After guests have gone, housemates are in bed, the cats are doing whatever it is cats do when you turn the lights out, and things have quieted down, we can relax. Our evenings typically involve sitting and reading blogs, playing one of the games we own, reading books or just sitting quietly until we fall asleep. It’s good, healthy, quiet and relaxing.
“What’s wrong this that?”, I hear you ask. Nothing at all, unless that’s all you do, every evening, night after night. Neither of us have had the energy for the kind of knock down, furniture breaking, neighbor frightening, cat terrifying sex we love. Out of our concern for each other, for our lives we’ve let ourselves fall into the habit of banking the fires of our sex lives until we do have that energy.
This denies us a very vital part of our love life; intimacy. Seeing her laying on the bed on her side, knee pulled up, light spilling across her naked thigh and the swell of her breast as she reads is an incredibly erotic sight for me. There is nothing about her actions, words or behavior that stops me from initiating a night of wild sex. It is my own self imposed limitations.
What I realized last night, is that those self imposed limitations, based on the reality of both of our physical and mental health right now (I was in the hospital last weekend, after all) has not only stopped us from the nights of wild, raucous monkey sex, but has gotten in the way of plain, simple, intimacy.
With that realization, I did something I haven’t done in months. I turned to SaM, asked her to put away the laptop and kiss me. Just that. Nothing more asked, nothing more expected. Just kiss me.
When we first got together we would spend time just exploring each other. Sitting, holding each other, kissing, rubbing, petting. Physically and emotionally intimate time together, with no expectations of anything more. That’s not to say things didn’t often move on from there to some of the best sex I’ve had in my life, but that wasn’t the goal. There was no goal.
Last night started with a kiss, a caress and cuddling. It ended up with a soft, sensual and pleasant evening for both of us. There wasn’t a lot of heavy breathing, sweating, bruises or even any rope. We didn’t have sex. We made love. It was exactly what we’d been missing.
This intimacy led to several hours of conversation about a lot of things both of us have been worried about. I found myself able to ask her some pretty scary questions and answer hers as well. Without that inimacy we’d shared earlier, neither of us would have been able to do that.
We’re going to Duckstock in June and are conserving our wild monkey-sex energy for that. It’ll be a celebration of her birthday, of my new job, of quite a few things going on in our lives. Until then, though, we will be rebuilding that intimacy, that sense of openness and sharing, that lack of expectation in the ourselves that is so important in living in that golden moment.
Wish us luck.
Online Dating can be a perilous journey and some obvious safety precautions should be followed. Things like meeting for the first time in a public place and making sure someone you trust knows where you are and how long you’ll be there are not advice to be taken lightly. But I find myself tired of all the negative press surrounding internet dating. For those of us who enjoy BDSM, dating at all can be difficult in the extreme.
For example: a friend sets you up with a nice man; you go out with him a few times and find yourself experiencing mutual attraction. At what point, and how, do you tell him you want to tie him to the bed, beat the hell out of him with a stick and penetrate him anally while torturing his nipples with various kitchen utensils? The average blind date just isn’t into that – which is sad for her/him, because they have no idea the fun they’re missing. It could be a very awkward conversation and in my experience, can be the end of an otherwise blossoming relationship.
So what are the alternatives to the traditional “blind date” if you’re a kinkster in need of a little lovin’? You could meet someone in a bar and risk having that awkward third date conversation about vegetables and anal penetration, or buy a membership to an expensive fetish club. Or my personal favorite, (and something I’ve considered in a desperate state of celibate frustration) stand on the street corner with a sign, “Will flog for love.” Oh, and there’s the internet with all its daunting twists and turns and a general lack of credibility. I think the internet gets a bad rap. In fact, used properly it could just be the best damned thing since silk shibari rope for the lonely and kinky at heart.
I met my fiancé, who is also my submissive, on an ‘alternative lifestyle’ (read “BDSM”) website. We spoke on the phone several times, clicked instantly and upon meeting for the first time, experienced mutual, genuine, honest to gods, holy crap, LOVE at first sight. After two years of dating followed by another year of living together, he popped the question. I responded with the always classic, “Are you serious?” and was given a terse, “yeah,” with an implied “duh,” and an annoyed-face for my trouble. From there I yelped my “YES!” and proceeded to attack him with kisses while sobbing like a crazy person.
I’ve described this wonderful, and somewhat private, moment of our lives for the general public to illustrate that not everyone you meet online is a weirdo or a pervert and that online dating can actually be successful, even for kinksters.
I’m not suggesting that everyone is going to find their own personal Mr. Oh-My-God just by getting online. That would be silly. And I’m not suggesting that it’s always 100% safe. That would be naïve. I am suggesting that people stop bitching about online dating and how horrible it is and I’ve offered my own personal success story as food for thought. Yes, you will probably run into a lot of guys wanting you to email them pictures of yourself in compromising positions so they can wank to your pretty pink…uh, yeah. But you also might just meet someone who lets you put them into compromising positions in person and fits into your life like a puzzle piece you didn’t know was missing. You never know until you try.
Question: So what the hell is a “Happy Sadist” anyhow?
Answer: Me! I am a Happy Sadist.
Let’s start with the simple bits: www.dictionary.com describes sadism in their cultural dictionary as, “Abnormal behavior characterized by deriving sexual gratification from inflicting pain on others . . . named after the Marquis de Sade, a French author of the eighteenth century, whose works describe many sexual perversities.” Actually, his name was Comte Donatien Alphonse Francois de Sade, he lived from 1740-1814 and he was a Count, not a Marquis. Get your facts right people. End history lesson, full stop.
So sadists are sickos who torture and kill people, right? Like Ted Bundy, the famous serial killer and Young Republican? Um, no, sorry. I do have occasional homicidal urges toward my fellow man, but since I stopped working retail those urges have significantly decreased. I do, however, get off on hurting people. Let me clarify – I get off on hurting people who get off on being hurt. Two, or more, like-minded, consenting adults, etc, etc.
But where does the happy bit come in? I giggle while I hurt my masochist. No, really – I get this perverse joy every time he screams and I often find myself giggling like the March Hare at a tea party. I don’t just get off on causing him pain, I get goofy. There is no better sound than the desperate gasps of my masochist as he tries not to scream. It makes me smile just to think about it. In fact, I’m smiling right now. He truly is my favorite toy.
There are a lot of sadists out there who are very dark and brooding. Don’t get me wrong – causing someone pain responsibly is a serious endeavor that should include proper fore-knowledge, emergency paraphernalia, safewords and trust. But it should also be something joyful. If being dark and serious is where you find joy, go forth and brood! But don’t be that way because you think you have to in order to be a proper sadist.
Coming to terms with being a sadist and all it implies has not been an easy task. We live in a country that refuses to let Queen Victoria and her frighteningly puritanical morals die. But once I allowed myself to embrace the idea of sadism as fun for everyone involved – well, that made all the difference in the world! I relish the dramatic flair inherent in BDSM scenes and approach it with a sense of dark glee. Next time you’re flogging someone, or stabbing them with needles, let yourself go and really enjoy the moment. Sexual interaction of all kinds should be fun. Now go get lost in someone’s screams and let yourself smile!
When I say “frequently” I mean that this question gets asked on some forum somewhere DAILY. It gets asked by men and women, submissives and dominants, sadists and masochists.
“If my spouse isn’t satisfying me, is it immoral to go elsewhere for that satisfaction and just not mention it to them?”
And then, shortly after that, the particular thread to that question explodes into an angsty flailing mud wrestling match that is best described by the following, almost completely unrelated statements:
“You whore, you swore a vow when you got married, you’re a BAD PERSON!”
“It’s totally okay, I do that, too.”
“It’s only okay if you don’t actually have SEX-sex.”
“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A BAD PERSON? WAIT TILL THIS HAPPENS TO YOU, MISS PERFECT! DON’T JUDGE ME! YOU DON’T KNOW ME!”
First off, please for the love of all that’s kinky, stop asking strangers on the internet for validation. No one with a fucking brain is going to tell you it’s okay to fuck around without your spouse’s consent. It’s just not.
Second, do not get all butt-hurt when you ask a question on the internet and get an answer. Even if it’s one you don’t like.
Third, OF COURSE WE’RE JUDGING YOU! Goddamn. You know what happens when we judge you? NOT. A. FUCKING. THING. What, I care enough about your trashy ass to track you down like I’m a b/tard so I can tell your spouse?
Please. I could be doing something constructive, like masturbating.
You know, when you ask a question on the internet – especially one like that – you are inviting people to judge you. Don’t be all butt-hurt when they accept.
Now, to ANSWER the goddamn question; no. It is, in fact, never ever ever okay to have sex with a person who is not the person you are married to, unless you have your spouse’s consent first.
Here’s the basic test. When your spouse says “Where were you all day? I tried calling and you weren’t here.” if you have to lie about it THEN YOU’RE FUCKING UP.
It’s not that goddamn complicated, people.
I find it interesting that most of the “poly advice” I’ve seen floating around is generally about how to not be jealous of your husband’s girlfriend. Or not tear her face off. Or somethin’ like that, but most of it seems pretty hetero in nature.
Sometimes… sometimes there’s advice for guys about how not to be raving assholes about their wife’s girlfriend. This usually involves suggestions like “don’t start the porn music” and “don’t assume this means you’re having a threesome”.
So, what do you do when your husband’s long-distance boyfriend comes for a visit?
This is my advice, ladies: Stay the fuck out of the way. Sleep on the couch and let them have the bed (at least for one night, anyway). Be considerate. Give them space to reinforce their own chemistry. Do not offer helpful hints about what your husband likes in bed; let them discover each other by themselves. Being a pair of individuals, they will have their own chemistry and dynamic that may surprise you. Don’t be surprised if your Domly husband doesn’t act quite the way he does around you.
Yeah, sure, you may have to spend some quality time with your vibrator. Big deal, we do that anyway.
Make dinner for them, if you cook. Find out what interests you and the boyfriend share, and which ones you don’t, and treat him like a real person.
It’s not terribly complicated. It’s just a little confusing at first. Remember that when you’re dealing with an out of town boyfriend type guest, he’s staying for a brief time and then he’s going home. It may be a while before he comes back. If you find yourself feeling neglected, try to mention that after he goes home, and arrange some quality time for you and the husband.
Ladies, there’s no reason to be threatened by a husband’s boyfriend. He really can give the husband things that you can’t. And that’s okay.