Even Steven - JJ /How I came to wiitwd/ "Real" BDSM, Part 2
Steven S. Davis
but there's several topics I wished to address that seem
sufficiently relevant to one another to be included under
the same title. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a
_good_ title, hence my subject line.
How I came to wiitwd:
There was a passing comment in an email I received recently about
how I came to S&M, which I'm altering to wiitwd for reasons that
people may be sick of reading. It occurs to me that this may be
something pertinent to a couple threads on ASB, and possibly
helpful to some readers. We'll see.
I've been extremely interested in restraining, frightening,
humiliating, and inflicting severe pain and bodily harm on people,
often onto death, for as long as I can remember, from earliest
childhood. It long precedes an interest in sex, and was gender
neutral before puberty. As an interest in sex developed it merged
with the existing interest in controlling and hurting people, and
females became the principle targets of interest. Part of me has
always seen other people as prey, and fantasized about hunting
them down to feed on their pain and terror.
I say part of me because I've also always been a nice, quiet
person (just like they so often say after someone is caught :-> )
who, while not adverse to fighting when provoked, wasn't at all
aggressive. As a child, because I got my growth early (and children
at that time in my neighborhood didn't carry weapons), and because
I would hurt people who provoked me too much, I didn't get provoked
a lot. As I got older I became pretty good about getting along with
people despite, or perhaps because of, my preference for minimal
human contact, and I haven't had cause to employ physical violence
in nearly twenty years (nor have I done so without cause). Some
people who know me find me to be a bit eccentric, but few know me
well enough to know that much about me, and I'm only known as a
pervert to SQO 200,000 plus people nearly all of whom are total
strangers (an interesting way to keep one's confidences :->) and
only two of whom have ever met me (so far as I know).
But however harmless I may seem, and however safe I am, a part
of me has always had predatory urges. I sometimes discuss this
part of myself as a separate person ("S."), but those who worry
about people who disassociate needn't fret. I'm quite aware
that he's just a facet of my personality. But it makes it much
simpler to speak of that aspect of myself by personifying it, and
anyway, while I know we all have dark sides, if you had S. as a
dark side, you'd disassociate too <g>. Because S. doesn't just
want to hurt people a little, or even a lot. And he's not really
into killing, though cruel and unusual ways of making people die
are frequent revelries (making people die cruelly is an excellent
way to make those who love them suffer). No, ideally what he
would like is to cause people to wish that they'd never had the
misfortune to be born, as that experience started the process that
lead them to S.'s tender mercilessness (once getting someone to
that point, he might grant one of his rare kindnesses and rectify
that error). Of course, the ideal is rarely achieved, and one
must often settle for lesser pleasures.
As a child, S. was mainly excited by pain and fear, but as he got
older he added despair to the list, and despair became his principle
lust (for some of us S&M *is* a spiritual experience), though pain
and fear and helplessness and humiliation are all fun in themselves,
as well as being tools that can be used to induce despair.
S. has never had any interest in the victim's pleasure. Well,
that isn't true. He's always wanted to be very certain sie didn't
experience any. Long before we'd heard the old joke about the
sadist and the masochist, S. knew that what he wanted to do to
people, or to make them do, was whatever they most feared and/or
could least bear. Whatever would harm them the most, whatever
they wanted most to avoid, whatever pushed their hot buttons and
exceeded their limits. Anything to make them suffer as much as
they possibly could in ways that they most certainly did not want.
Which is probably enough about S. I think by now it should be
pretty clear that he's a serial killer of the sexual sadist
variety (albeit an inactive one). One thing about S. that's
different from most of that type is that he never had any interest
in hurting animals. This may be partly because we both had a lot
more fondness for animals than for people. But I think it's
primarily because he instinctively knew that you don't seek
power from the powerless. The prey must be an equal, or better,
if taking hir down is to be a real pleasure. It's people who are
strong, smart, and brave who make the best victims, whose despair
is the sweetest for their having been so strong and brave (it was
suggested once that some woman must have really angered me for
me to imagine doing the kinds of things that I depicted in a
piece of sicfic, which missed the mark entirely; the woman on
whom that character was modeled was used because I liked and
respected her - who better from whom to attract high quality
despair, and anyway if one is going to be as initimate with
another as one is when breaking hir body and soul under torture,
who wouldn't prefer a person one liked and respected ?).
As it happens, along with S. as a lifelong companion, I had
the good fortune (also a piece of good fortune to the many people
who have attracted S.'s interest) of somehow acquiring a conscience.
Which is why S. (who most definitely does not have any conscience;
the only things he'd ever be sorry for would be targets missed and
aesthetic opportunities lost) is an involuntarily inactive serial
killer, but I'm not. What S. wants is impossible for me to
accomodate, because the principal ethical principle I follow
- what is hateful unto another, do not unto hir; when one doesn't
know what is hateful to another, do not unto hir what is hateful
unto oneself - is exactly opposite to S.'s principal aesthetic
principle (S. has no ethical principles). Which means that S. is
forever confined to fiction and fantasy, and while far short of
what he wants, for an active imagination that can be quite
pleasurable. And anyway, it's all he's gonna get.
So people are quite safe around me, though I can understand why
the women of my acquaintance whose despair S. lusts for might
not feel safe if they knew of his plans for them. But they are
safe. S. is quite well under control, and I no longer worry
about his emergence as I once did. Oh, I'm still afraid of him
- and hope I always will be - but I'm certain that he won't break
out. I do still worry that were I pitching someday - not the
first time, or the first time with a new partner, or any time when
I was watching carefully, but some time when things had become
routine, that he might slip out when I knew my partner was at hir
limits and say "*This* is when the real fun begins". Not for
long - and certainly not past a safeword, which would trigger a
dutiful reaction in me no matter what else might be going on - but
long enough alter my judgement enough that some harm might occur.
I don't think it likely, but the possibility is something to always
guard against.
Anyway, I don't think after reading the above it will surprise
anyone if I say that I once held the opinion that becoming actively
involved in what I then still called S&M was not something prudent.
I'd found sources of fiction, photos and film to supplement my own
active imagination (though I was always looking for other sources,
as I so rarely found anything cruel enough for my tastes), but I'd
never sought the RL scene. When I got access to the more interesting
portions of the Net, I checked out ASB. I wasn't looking for people
to meet (to be honest, only slightly because of any concerns I had
about S.; primarily because meeting anyone meant venturing out of
my safe, comfortable seclusion), but for fiction (or fact) that might
match my interests and inspire my imagination, and for an outlet for
my own fiction (while writing fiction is satisfying, the effort
involved is much too great when one only has an audience of one).
Of course, it was my good fortune, though perhaps not the net's,
that ASB spends most of it's time discussing ethics, politics,
and semantics, topics that require no particular knowledge to
discuss and which were therefore always favorites of mine.
What was also my extreme good fortune was that an inquiry I'd posted
about people's reactions to records of real life violence was of
interest to Wood Nymph, who'd also found one of my stories interesting.
I said that I wasn't looking to meet people, and I wasn't, but I'd
always been an odd combination of both somewhat antisocial and highly
loquacious, and usenet and email were perfect for me, so we began
a correspondence, in which I quickly recognized a kindred spirit
(i.e. someone whose imagination was as evil as mine). We had
extensive discussions, including some flirtations, and a jocular
contest to see which of us would someday top the other, but I
never expected to meet her, or for it to be anything more than an
friendly exchange of mail. But as the months passed and email was
supplemented by talking via computer and then speaking via telephone,
things began to change. Wood Nymph says she could see my interest
in submission for a long time. I wasn't aware of it. While I'd
had occasional masochistic thoughts, I'd never felt any attraction
to submission, and though I've never had a problem following the
orders of those entitled to give me orders, I don't think that many
people would have said that I was submissive; of course, at least
among the ASB regulars, submissives seem to be a pretty combative
bunch, so the contrast isn't as surprising as it once seemed.
In any event, given my semi-reclusiveness, my hatred of being
vulnerable, my lack of trust, and my need to maintain control,
submission had never had any appeal to me, and I was quite
surprised to find my interest in submitting to Wood Nymph
developing. Almost as surprised as I was to be coming to love
her (as I didn't think that self-absorbed reclusive paranoids
were capable of love). I'm not sure which one I resisted more.
More conscious effort, certainly, went into resisting submission,
devising schemes in which I wasn't really submitting, I was doing
"X" (while I've gotten to where I can accept "submissive", I still
strongly reject "slave", and prefer a Liege-Vassal model (one in
which autonomous parties are linked in a relationship of mutual
obligations, which include the vassal's service, obedience and
devotion to his Liege) for my submission instead of a master-slave,
master-disciple, parent-child, or deity-maggot model). The love
I just tried not to notice.
When I decided to abandon our "contest" - which I was losing anyway -
and surrender to her, it seemed to me to be a completely rational
and pragmatic decision. She was an experienced switch, and would
have a much better idea what to do with me than I would have of what
to do with her (S. had - and has - plenty of ideas about what to do
with my dear Liege, but they were of course out of the question;
BTW, when one tends to imagine slowly and cruelly murdering every
woman one likes, finding one who enjoys those fantasies is quite
pleasant). Also, while I wasn't very worried that I might harm
someone maliciously, I feared hurting anyone I might top - a
possibility that had become more attractive by that time - through
ignorance, and bottoming to an experienced top seemed a way to
begin addressing that issue.
There was a small geographic problem, namely being on opposite
sides of North America, complicating this approach to the problem,
but having always distrusted others even more than I distrusted
myself, I wasn't interested in bottoming to anyone other than the
one person I'd come to trust (quite irrationally, I know; I had
myself told people prior to this how foolish it was to start
relationships based only on mail and phone calls). As it was hard
for me to trust, and as I was also a control freak in my fashion,
submission seemed a logical way of working on both these issues.
And I hoped that it would make Wood Nymph, who I'd come to care
about a little, happy if I submitted to her. So, as anyone can
plainly see, the decision to submit was an entirely logical and
completely rational one, and was most certainly *not* one motivated
by any of those unconscious desires we are always warned against.
Well, there was perhaps one semiconscious desire. Though it might
be some time before Wood Nymph will find it appropriate to bottom
to me - if she ever does - when one is a sadist who has some
concerns, however remote, about whether or not he can completely
trust himself, and fears the possibility of harming one's partner,
during a moment when cruelty overwhelms judgement, having a dom who's
also a masochist is an ideal situation, as one can be as cruel as one
wants, with confidence that she's both willing and able (if one takes
one's vow of obedience seriously, as I do) to stop anything that she
doesn't want. It's not a situation that would hold much appeal for
S., but for Steve, who share's his Liege's principle of "do no harm"
(but plenty of hurt, if that's what one's partner wants) it will
suffice.
Of course, that's if and when she decides bottoming to me is a good
idea. Until then I'll have to settle for relaxing thuddy floggings,
painplay that tests my capacity for both pain and trust, sensation
play that strains my capacity for pleasure and explores the unknown
land of "no control", and whatever else my loving Liege's wicked
and inventive imagination can come up with. Oh, the horrors we
submissives must endure (and the sooner, the better).
One might wonder if it wouldn't be better if I could just be rid
of S. Well, I can't, so it's a moot point. I could deny him,
try not to think his thoughts, feel quilty when they break through,
as they inevitably would. But I can't be rid of him, he's too much
a part of me. And, frankly, he's a lot of fun - much more fun than
Steve; as serious and dull as I am now, I dread to think how boring
I'd be without him - so as long as I know he's contained, I wouldn't
want to be without him. So I let him spin his plans, which are a
lot of fun to hear, and sometimes I share his ideas with others
who I believe will find them enjoyable, and a number of people do,
including some people who have become close to me (emotionally,
*not* geographically; whatever advantages there are to contact
through the net, there is that drawback), but he doesn't get a
chance to hurt anyone. It works out OK for all concerned.
So I find myself having worked my way into actively, if much too
infrequently, doing wiitwd. It isn't what has kept or will keep
me out of trouble; wiitwd at it's most extreme is a poor substitute
for what S. wants, and wouldn't stop him from doing what he wanted
if he could get free, but he can't. But wiitwd, safe and consensual
with plenty of safeguards (safewords, covenants, all those things
JJ hates) against abuse makes me happier than I was. Well, it
alerts me to a happiness I wasn't previously aware of; there is,
again, that little "North America" problem to deal with.
"Real" BDSM:
There's been much discussion about "real" BDSM. Is wiitwd "real",
or are only practices that meet certain criteria "real" ?
It shouldn't matter, of course, what anyone else thinks about what
someone does. If it's real to the people who are doing it, that's
all that matters. If someone else can't understand how something
can be real when it doesn't involve what he does, or wants to sneer,
for whatever reason he may have, at people who "aren't capable of"
(i.e. don't want to do) what he does, that's his problem and it
shouldn't bother anyone else. It can be hard to keep that in
mind when someone is denigrating something that's very important
to you, but how does his rudeness, arrogance and narrowmindedness
change what you do ?
None of which is going to stop people from worrying about whether
what they do is "real", especially submissives, who tend, IMO,
to constant concern about whether or not their submission is good
enough, and can easily be hurt by assertions that their submission
isn't real.
As it happens, my perspective on claims to "real" and "play" in
BDSM is a bit different, and it may be useful to some (it remains,
of course, only one person's perspective). It comes down to
this - all of wiitwd is play. Not because everything is play,
or because there is anything trivial or fake about wiitwd, but
because the real thing doesn't occur with consent, and isn't about
giving people what they want and need. It's about forcing on people
that which they hate, that which harms them and that from which they
would escape if they were not prevented from doing so. It's not
about taking power from people who are eager to give it up, it's
about ripping power and control away from people who want to retain
their freedom, and luxuriating in their helplessness and the ability
to do to them what brings them pain and shame and despair. It's
about inflicting bad pain, and causing suffering neither wanted nor
deserved. It's about exceeding limits and keeping slaves who don't
want to be slaves. That's real. What we do, using restraint and
sensation and control and pain for pleasure or self-awareness or
testing limits or spiritual growth or just to get really hot, has
nothing to do with that.
So we needn't worry so much about whether what we do is real.
What is being done by people doing a carefully negotiated scene
with safewords and six single-spaced pages of limits is just
as real as anything done by people who are doing consensual TPE
to create a wholely voluntary situation in which one person is
completely controlled by the other.
*******************************************************************
Steven S. Davis * s...@magenta.com * sdup...@delphi.com
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jessie
to respond to the last bit. (But, thank you, for sharing your
fears and concerns from when you first began doing wiitwd.)
More discussion of real vs. fake ensues... if you're sick of the
discussion, 'n' is your safeword. You've been warned.
>"Real" BDSM:
>There's been much discussion about "real" BDSM. Is wiitwd "real",
>or are only practices that meet certain criteria "real" ?
[snip of SD saying it shouldn't matter whether JJ or ES think
that what I (or others) do is not real, it shouldn't matter if
they sneer. He's right, it shouldn't.]
>None of which is going to stop people from worrying about whether
>what they do is "real", especially submissives, who tend, IMO,
>to constant concern about whether or not their submission is good
>enough, and can easily be hurt by assertions that their submission
>isn't real.
>
>As it happens, my perspective on claims to "real" and "play" in
>BDSM is a bit different, and it may be useful to some (it remains,
>of course, only one person's perspective). It comes down to
>this - all of wiitwd is play.
I'm including your explanation of this statement below -- so
that people don't get the idea that you're using "play" in
a negative, derogatory, belittling way. But I still want to
disagree with your conclusion that "all of wittwd is play."
Or, at least, disagree with the premise that that is the most
useful way of describing wiitwd.
For me, what I do with Mr. Warlock is real. I refuse to give up
claim to that word, just to make nice with certain argumentative
types. It is play, too, *sometimes* -- but it is not *primarily*
play.
I am a real slave -- within the limited bounds of my relationship
with my master. Not within society as a whole (so I don't have
to meet society's criteria for slave-hood.) Not within a relationship
with JJ, so I don't have to meet JJ's criteria for slavehood.
What I want to do is (yet again) respond to those who say that
unless I am a complete and utter slave -- to the fullest extent
of society's criteria -- I am no slave at all, but merely a
fake slave. (Translating into French only makes the term more
pretentious, not more palatable.)
Here are some examples from other realms:
1) When I was young (13-17), I was a lawyer in a Youth Court. This
was *not* a Mock-Court, with fake scenarios -- we tried and
sentenced other students, who had been caught by the police
committing various misdemeanors (vandalism, shoplifting, etc.)
We could assign them hours of community service, or we could
release them -- the verdicts were completely up to our judges.
(And, yes, I eventually became a judge in this system too.)
The arrested-students' incentive to come to the Youth Court is
that it guaranteed they wouldn't have a criminal record.
The judicial system's incentive to send the kids to Youth Court
is that otherwise they *probably* would only have gotten a
slap on the wrist -- the courts were busy with more serious
crimes.
Now, I didn't fulfill the criteria for society's definition
of a lawyer -- I didn't have a J.D., I had passed no state
bar exam. But I was hardly a *fake* lawyer -- my actions,
my investigations, my arguments had *real* consequences
for the defendant. I was a real lawyer, within a certain,
circumscribed, realm.
2) Someone who is a good judge of character is not an official
judge, appointed or elected to any official position. That does
not make the person a *fake* judge. It makes them a judge
within a certain, circumscribed realm.
3) The mother who sends her son to his room without supper,
may reasonably complain that she hates having to be the Jailer
of the family. She is not a state jailer, but she is not
a *fake* jailer either. She is a real jailer, within the
circumscribed realm of her family. She is a real "bad-cop",
and the fact that she is not a police-officer at all just
doesn't enter into the question.
4) Someone who is a slave to her work is still *legally* free
to quit -- but the reason she works so hard may be because she
realizes that quitting is not a realistic option for her.
She *has* to work hard, because she *has* to make this job
work out. (Alternatively, she could work hard because she
is obsessed by her work.) Either way, she is justified in
calling herself a slave to her work -- and anyone who insists
that she's not a *real* slave, she's a fake slave, is using
a false precision of language to obfuscate true communication.
A fake slave is someone acting the part in a play, with no
real consequences... or someone goofing around at a play-party
(Hey, look, I'm your slave, Whee!)
When slavery is undertaken seriously, and has real consequences
for those involved, then it can not reasonably be called
"fake". (Or "faux.") In my opinion.
/jessie, 3/24/95
(Steven's stuff continues below, in case anyone thinks my snips
misrepresent his argument.)
> Not because everything is play,
>or because there is anything trivial or fake about wiitwd, but
>because the real thing doesn't occur with consent, and isn't about
>giving people what they want and need. It's about forcing on people
>that which they hate, that which harms them and that from which they
>would escape if they were not prevented from doing so. It's not
>about taking power from people who are eager to give it up, it's
>about ripping power and control away from people who want to retain
>their freedom, and luxuriating in their helplessness and the ability
>to do to them what brings them pain and shame and despair. It's
>about inflicting bad pain, and causing suffering neither wanted nor
>deserved. It's about exceeding limits and keeping slaves who don't
>want to be slaves. That's real. What we do, using restraint and
>sensation and control and pain for pleasure or self-awareness or
>testing limits or spiritual growth or just to get really hot, has
>nothing to do with that.
>
>So we needn't worry so much about whether what we do is real.
>What is being done by people doing a carefully negotiated scene
>with safewords and six single-spaced pages of limits is just
>as real as anything done by people who are doing consensual TPE
>to create a wholely voluntary situation in which one person is
>completely controlled by the other.
>
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