Super Bowl Commercial

We fade in on a twenty-something somewhat attractive white girl. She's sitting on a stool slightly off-center with a stark white background. Subsequent actors are the standard rainbow array of politically correct races and ages.

"...you spend your whole life being told that you're sick, that you're a deviant, so the first time I met someone that didn't treat me that way, but promised to explore it with me, well, that was a revelation."

Towards the end of her statement she begins to fade away on camera, with our next actor's face superimposed over her until he is all that remains.

"...friends found my porn stash when I was fifteen. Needless to say, my social life wasn't a whole lot of fun till I could escape to college..."

next actor, this one is a bit older than the others

"My employer found out about a meeting I was attending, and fired me for it. Said it was 'bad for workplace morale.' How am I supposed to make my mortgage?"

next actor, again a bit older

"I had always been a good parent. Why did CPS feel the need to remove my child from its loving home just because of what we did in the bedroom?

next actor, this one the youngest of them all

"It's something that's so integral to your identity, but how are you supposed to tell the people you care about about it, like your parents? I mean, they would already pitch a fit if I was gay: no way they're ready to hear that I like pain and am most fulfilled in a subservient role!"

Fade to black, with the following words superimposed in the center of the screen in white

"24% of lypiphiles have lost their jobs because of intolerance. 3%, their children."

these words fade, and new ones replace them.

"Let's fix that."

new words

"www.lypiphilia.org"

Blast from the past

Apparently, my talent for verboseness when talking about BDSM is not a new development for me. Witness this ancient post on a sexuality message board asking for advice right before my first meeting of Socrates.

So, the situation. I've known that I was a submissive since I started having desires about sex, around 13. I've fantasized about this kind of sex for years, but given the glut of submissives and dearth of dominants, I was worried that I'd never get a chance to act like I truly am. So I register for an S&M personals site, despite only being 17 (18 to register). I didn't fill out any profile information, since I only wanted access to the forums and get the lay of the land for when I go off to college and can attain sexual freedom. So, despite the empty profile, I get several messages from a guy very interested in me- I was unable to navigate the message system before, and when I finally did check, he had sent me 4 in the last month, despite my lack of responding. He's 39, and now we're talking about meeting somewhere in real life.

I am slightly worried about STDs. He claims that he's clean, but I don't intend to take him at his word. I'm going to use condoms, but there's always the chance that you're the 1-in-1000 chance where the condom doesn't work. He's admitted to being polyamorous, so he won't be exclusive, so that increases the danger somewhat. Still, I fail to see how polyamory is much more dangerous than the serial monogamy practiced by most people. And if I were truly worried about STDs, I would remain celibate all my life- it's not like marriage causes a magical viel against STDs or anything.

I'm not worried about the age difference. I'm at the age of consent for my state, so we're not doing anything illegal, and I don't feel coerced in the slightest. It's honestly a nonissue for me- I suppose I'd prefer it if he were younger, since it would cause less of a stir if we were caught, but other than that I don't mind.

I should be thrilled- I've thought about this for 4 years, feared it would never come to pass, yet now it is upon me. It helps that, if his pictures are legit anyway, he's someone far hotter than I would think woluld have sex with me; he definitely doesn't look his age. And yet, now here at the cusp, I hesistate. I'm a virgin, and despite my somewhat advanced age, am not at all sure I'm ready for vanilla sex- much less something more dangerous and more intimate. I suppose I am simply playing the part of the blushing maiden on the wedding night- afraid and excited by turns. On the other hand, I'm worried that I'm letting a golden opportunity pass me by if I give this up. As I said, he's really hot, he doesn't mind that my going off to college in a year precludes a long term relationship, he doesn't mind my age, and the previously mentioned lack of dominants and glut of submissives is there as well. It gives me an opportunity to carry this out a full year before I had expected I'd be able to. It allows me to gain a measure of independence from my parents. Perhaps most importantly of all, it could be a vehicle for self-discovery: I want to figure out why I'm submissive, and gain new insights into my personality. The only way I can clarify how I feel about that issue is experimenting.

Undoubtedly most of the responses will center around how inappropriate the age difference is, and maybe that's something I need to hear. Lord knows this would be an incredibly lurid tale if the press ever got its hands on it- S&M! Internet "predators"! Homosexuality! Adult-teen sex! If this couldn't get Foley off the front page, nothing else could. Nevertheless, I could use counsel about the other issues confronting me- STDs, fear that I'm not ready for sex, ect.

The drive for authenticity

Socrates has eased up on my orgasm denial of late. From the two week period of denial I had owing to some discipline issues, I'm back on my weekly schedule, with several orgasms occurring each time I'm finally allowed to do so.

The dirty secret of chastity is that this is probably more punishment than my two weeks in captivity.

One of my favorite BDSM bloggers once called what we do "a shared conspiracy to subvert the ordinary," and so it is. When in denial for so long, the sexual experience ceases to be a series of peaks and valleys, but a constant presence in one's life, pervading every action one takes. Of course, this sensation could be achieved by even vanilla people, and few choose to do so: critical to the experience is the masochism that finds such frustration.... satisfying, I'll call it, and a submissive mindset that takes joy in handing over control of such an intimiate part of yourself to someone you trust. Strip away that sexual arousal, however, and the joy turns to ashes in my mouth: my daily exercises turn from a joyful expression of my submission into rote chores, my collar becomes neither a defiant expression of my identity, nor a welcome constant reminder of our relationship, but a social liability, and everything from the ball stretcher to the butt plugs become a duty instead of a pleasure. In short, my daily interactions are no more suffused with with the certain knowledge of my servitude; my connection with the sublime (if I may describe my experience in more lofty terms than it deserves, for want of better terms) is severed; that constant reminder of something just beyond the mundane is lost.

I'm not proud that my submission stems solely from my sexuality. Many subs (most of them seemingly female) report that after orgasm, their submissiveness is increased; that they feel that they must repay their dominant for giving something so pleasurable to them. I know not whether to blame my male physiology, which is as responsible for the "roll over and go to sleep after sex" as it is for my lack of submissiveness after orgasm, or the nature of my submission, that it is only triggered by sexuality. Yet, I do not feel it is fair to characterize my joy in submission as simply sexual in nature; my sexuality being active is a prerequisite for feeling that way, but I feel something in that joy that is not merely sexual in nature.

I wonder why I feel the need to justify it as such in the first place, why I'm not proud that my submission stems solely from my sexuality. Of course, there is the ideal of service, which I have imbibed since youth from my parents, religion, and to a lesser extent culture, an ideal that I feel is noble and worth striving for. Yet, that does not seem to be the entire reason: a part of it stems, I think, from the desire for authenticity, for genuineness, for extremism. Even among the most typically reviled traits this oneupsmanship can be observed; geeks will proudly impress their friends by relating the time they stayed home at the prom to watch the Battlestar Galactica season finale, and people within our own community will periodically attempt to out-deprave one another. But even setting aside oneupsmanship, my lack of submissiveness after orgasm makes me wonder about my virtue as a submissive qua submissive.

Of course, none of this handwringing will change my nature. The truth is, my submission is not active if my sexuality isn't, and as an ends-based utilitarian, that's fine with me. The only thing I have to do is work around it, if I wish to functionally be in a submissive state of mind most of the time.

And hey, it'll give Socrates a novel form of punishment. Though if I know that it's a punishment, I may take more pleasure in it than he intends. Witness the paradoxes of masochism

Comfort or crutch?

I've been under a bit of emotional duress lately, due to issues that would possibly compromise my anonymity, and in any case, lie outside the purview of this blog.

Through it all, I can't help but wonder how much better it would be if Socrates were here. Even more than the counsel of my circle of friends, now mostly dispersed to the far corners of the country away from my university, and even more than having my parent's shoulder to cry on and pour out my troubles to, I wish that I could feel his embrace. More than his presence, though, I wish that he could exert his dominance- no, his possession of me. I want to feel that almost paradoxical mix of objectification and love, that I am his cherished possession, both because of the utility I offer him and because of who I am, with that wonderful clarity and feeling of comfort I can't begin to describe.

I can't decide whether all that means that my submission is a source of strength and comfort in times of stress, or a crutch I use to avoid dealing with my problems, and leaves me wondering perhaps if the formation of my submissive sexuality had something to do with this fleeing of my problems. Then again, I'm not convinced that's even a meaningful distinction, or whether methods of coping that are approved of are sources of strength, and methods of coping we disapprove of are crutches.

Then again, wishing for the comfort of your lover in times of distress is scarcely an unhealthy thing, even if it takes an odd form.

Nobility and Morality

"You spend your formative years being told that you're sick, you're a deviant, that who you are as a person is wrong. Then when you reacted as you did... tell me, mom, do you think any less of me knowing what you do now?"

"Not in the slightest. There is no consensual sex act between adults that is immoral."

While I was relieved to hear it (of course, it failed to allay her fears on other fronts), I had to wonder if it was a complete answer to my question. I have never once doubted the morality of my actions; there can be no moral evil involved in what I'm doing here, even if I do get hurt because of my own actions.

But it seems to me that, "is what I'm doing harmful to other people?" is a very different question from, "should I be thought less of because of what I do in the bedroom?" There may be no justification for governmental intervention, for anyone to protect me from myself, but that's not to say that I'm living the best life here.

However, "best life" doesn't seem to hit the anxiety I'm feeling. I believe that the best life is the happiest life, and, whether or not my submissive sexual orientation is more or less conducive to that, now that I have it, exploring it seems better for my happiness than keeping it repressed.

I suppose the best way to phrase my question is, "Are my actions noble?" As corollaries- "Do my actions or desires align with what I would consider a good human being to do? Do they align with my political and philosophical beliefs?"

I feel adrift here. My questions are getting closer to the mark, but they're not hitting it yet. Perhaps it's because I'm not sure of the nobility or virtue that I'm striving for. In any case, if I can't get a handle on the question yet, I'm certainly not equipped to come to a satisfactory answer.

At least I've got a goal to strive for.

Home Fires Burning

I'll be returning home in around a week for the first time since coming out about my submissiveness to my mother. In preparing, I've been greatly helped by Eileen's posting about her being outed to her family. Like mine, hers isn't as simple as a rigidly intolerant, closed-minded bigotry; I've weathered God hates fags; I can weather the charge of perversion of the natural order. If it were so, it would be easy; I could cloak myself in the mantle of righteous rebellion, refuse to let the intolerance of small minds prevent me from pursuiing the life I deem best, and not really grow in the process.

Of course, her objections are far more principled than that, objections I have to answer for myself as well as for her. If you want a succinct statement of the principled objection to my lifestyle, look no further than the spanner decision:
"In principle there is a difference between violence which is incidental and violence which is inflicted for the indulgence of cruelty. The violence of sadomasochistic encounters involves the indulgence of cruelty by sadists and the degradation of victims. Such violence is injurious to the participants and unpredictably dangerous. I am not prepared to invent a defence of consent for sadomasochistic encounters which breed and glorify cruelty [...]. Society is entitled and bound to protect itself against a cult of violence. Pleasure derived from the infliction of pain is an evil thing. Cruelty is uncivilized."

What defence to this indictment can I offer? Certainly, from the outside, I can see why it would seem a dark place. Screams, in more extreme instances blood; the disgusting arousal of the sadist, the degradation that the masochist craves; how could one spring to their defense? Even from the inside, you will often run across profiles of people bragging that they revel in the darker side of human nature.

Except that framing has never rung true to me. I think back on the night I lost my virginity, the ecstasy, the caring dominance of Socrates, how my heart exults when I reflect on my submission and his dominance- and the only thing I can see is joy. I KNOW, with the certainty only emotional engagement can bring, that there was nothing shameful, nothing degrading, about that joy.

But, if I ever doubt my own virtue, I know this much: I REFUSE to believe that that is Socrates. The man who performed the most sterling moral action I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing; my lover, my Master- he is not some corrupted deviant, not the high priest of a "cult of violence," not driven to the archevil of human affairs by an impurity in his soul! Whatever one can say of me, I know this- Socrates is good at his core. He has too consistently proven his goodness for me to believe anything else.

And, of course, the damnable thing is that I can't just react angrily, tell them to get the fuck out of my life and be done with it. Even more painful than if this were borne out of hatred, my mother is doing this precisely because she loves me, because she's worried about me, because she thinks that I've gotten myself into something that's physically and emotionally risky, and potentially spiritually degrading.

Of course, it had to be her. The disappointment with which the majority of my extended family would receive it, I can dismiss as closed-minded intolerance. My sister and my father's rejection would hurt, but I can live without their approval. But she is so intelligent, so even-handed, and so much my role model that, should I fail, I'm not sure I could ever be certain of my goodness again.

Crossdressing

Socrates suggested adding crossdressing to our repertoire awhile back, and my feelings on the issue are mixed. Of course, there's the power exchangey, "if it gets your Master off, do it, even if it is a bit distasteful" - but I also trust that, if I air my grievances, I can trust Socrates to come to a just conclusion on what we should do.

I said recently that I don't find submissive men very attractive, and until fairly recently more imagined myself as a submissive woman within scenes than as a submissive man. As the son of two feminists, you have no idea how much this galls me, because it says that, in my deepest self, I see feminity as a weakness, and the natural order of things as a dominant male, submissive female. And if I haven't yet been able to find submissive men attractive, I have at least fought long and hard to decouple my feminine traits from my submission (if not integrating my masculinity and submission, seeing as a I have little and put little importance on the former), but these gains, I feel, are fragile, and I don't know how long they'd last.

After my first less-than-positive experience with Socrates, I met another dom on collarme- call him Thrasymachus. He eventually flaked out on me, and probably for the best, because the online conversations I had with him didn't give me much faith that he'd respect many limits or have any of the traits of loving domination that Socrates exhibits- but truth be told, his relentless misogyny and determination to turn me into his "sissby bitch" were incredible turn-ons at the time. I don't want to head back down that road. Ultimately, crossdressing in a BDSM context says that feminine traits in a male are shameful, and should be mocked, and that the only natural order is a dominant male and submissive female. I subscribe to neither of these views. While crossdressing in most situations is an act profoundly subversive of the gender binary, and while I've a lot of respect for those that flaunt that convention, ultimately in my context it's only reinforcing that pernicious institution.