At this point, I’ve gotta ask myself why. Why keep trying to get your foot in the door with this stuff?
(a post about kink)
Why, when you never seem to like anything you find.
Why bother, when your sex aversion is so extreme. Why, when you don’t like to see boobs in public, and you don’t like genitalia, and you’re easily unsettled by pain and painful-looking things because your visceral empathy is out of control. Why even consider it, when you’re even squicked by a lot of standard(?) D/s fare and can’t relate to all the motivations you’ve heard described for it. Why, why, why, when you don’t fit in with the culture of the kink community at all.
wha, wah, whaaaah
Why keep eyeing it like this? Why keep looking to get involved with it somehow? What do you want? Where is this coming from? Why?
I could say it’s just: wanting casual touch, wanting touch-based relationships that aren’t sex-based relationships, wanting to explore sensory experiences.
But why look to a personal minefield like the kink community for something as mundane as that?
[additional CN from here on out: light bondage talk, animal comparisons, and lots of talking circles around D/s]
Here’s a story I don’t think I’ve told anyone, because it’s never been relevant.
When I was little — maybe six years old or so, one of those ages where it’s normal to play games of pretend — the two of us once played this game, unsupervised. It was an animal game. One of us would pretend to be a lion and the other would pretend to be a gazelle.
Normal, right? Well, yeah. Yeah, it was. Probably one of the more normal things about me as a little kid.
The first part of the game involved the lion hunting the gazelle (= us little kids running around on all fours). Going off of memory, I think we were emulating nature documentaries or something. That part would end with the “lion” tackling the “gazelle” while the latter struggled to get away until it was “killed.” And then — and I honestly have no explanation for this part — the “dead gazelle” would get moved to a large closet, which was supposed to be an “oven” (I remember it getting very warm in there if you closed the door) where whoever was playing the gazelle had to lay very, very still until the lion decided it was done and opened the door. After that, the lion would approach and “eat” (= make chewing noises while not making any contact with) the gazelle, who would lay completely motionless.
You want to know what I think is the weird part?
My friend who played this game with me, who was known for being pushy and bossy and domineering, liked to be the gazelle. The reason we took turns was because we both liked to be the gazelle.
It was goofy and silly and, looking back on it, seems kind of weird and sadomasochistic.
And it wasn’t that long ago that I caught myself kind of missing it.
But that’s just something kids do. Weird games like that. You’re not going to find adults interested in playing with that kind of control-and-passivity scenario.
…unless you want to wade into all that. Everything that approaching kinksters entails, all those par-for-the-course aspects of kink spaces that I’ve already established to myself I don’t want to encounter.
Almost everything I know about “conventional”(?) D/s and people’s reasons for practicing it is a turnoff. Even abstractly, both roles sound uncomfortable to me. I don’t want to “submit” to anybody and I don’t want to “dominate” anybody either. Loaded words. Implications that go farther, in the wrong direction. Which begs the question of, then what’s the right direction?
Is there one?
Well, there’s got to be some reason why I’m so fascinated with the iconic scene from Gulliver’s Travels.
(btw, that’s safe to google if you don’t recognize the title — pretty SFW, unless your workplace has something against classic literature)
I once picked up a book belonging to the copilot, one that proclaimed to be all about “topping,” which is supposed to be a less loaded term than “Domming.” But I only read a few paragraphs before I found I couldn’t get through it, because in the passage where it discussed motivations for people to top or become interested in topping, I couldn’t relate to any of what it said there. It was all too alienating.
Which begs the question of, what do I relate to?
Once, when the copilot was telling me about a bondage convention she’d been to, I remember perking up at the mention of a woman leading a man around on a rope, which I pictured as kind of casually escorting him around on a line while his hands were tied.
Another time, after I had finished showing the copilot how to walk a horse using a halter and lead rope, using one of my family’s horses as part of the process, she thanked the horse for being our “demo bottom.” Which was funny, and, uh.
Hm. There’s a thought.
Saying I want to treat someone like a horse would be… inaccurate, and creepy. The way I relate to and communicate with horses is fundamentally different from how I handle people. Horses don’t have the same reasoning capabilities as people; they don’t have the same breadth of communication as people; they don’t learn or act or bond like people. Most importantly, they shouldn’t be granted the same autonomy as people. I’m patient and careful with my horse, you might even say I “negotiate” with my horse, but I don’t operate on the rigid principle of consent with my horse. Because she’s a horse.
I don’t think any person should be treated like a horse.
Yet there are some… structural elements, like the use of rope and leader-follower relations and imperative language, that could be replicated without treating someone like a horse.
Or. Maybe I should differentiate “like a horse” from “as a horse.”
I don’t know.
I know that when I read about people wanting a sanctioned time to be mean, and to unleash their nasty side, and wield absolute power over someone, and just “let go” of their internal restraints, I’m like ??? no ?? ?
Sorry to keep going back to horse examples (small reference pools), but when I’m riding or working with a horse I may be the one giving commands, but I’m also on high alert — scrutinizing reactions — keeping tract of where her mind is — balancing multiple inputs — making decisions — trying to maintain a kind of control which is fundamentally unstable and easily called into question — and, gosh, I don’t want to be mean to her.
And replicating that working dynamic in a way that’s molded to the requirements of human-human relations instead of human-animal relations doesn’t… involve “letting go.”
It’s holding on, pretty tight.
I don’t know if I can… isolate some single comprehensive grain of what keeps drawing me back to this subject almost as much as it keeps pushing me away. I just want to form a semi-coherent answer for why.
And some of it, at least, seems like the monodirectional touch thing taken to an extreme.
Like. “You figure it out while I just sit here” or “just sit here while I figure it out” and that’s it, pick one. Binary poles and all that. Restraint and passivity and… something.
And I’ll be at an impasse with myself until I figure it out.