Yes, but is it sex? If you’re accustomed to thinking of sex only as orgasm-seeking genital contact, some of the behaviors we’ve been describing may seem kind of confusing. (As Catherine said when she first started exploring kinky play: “When does someone get laid around here, anyway?”)
Now might be a good time to begin expanding your definition of “sex.” In these virus-ridden times, when many conventional forms of sex carry a high risk of disease, that’s not such a bad idea anyway, right?
Some forms of play, like bondage or blindfolds or light spanking, may enhance sex that would otherwise not seem particularly kinky. Some folks use these activities as foreplay to increase their arousal so that they can get greater enjoyment out of conventional sex. A few people can get so aroused by kinky play that they can reach orgasm from these behaviors alone.
However, many people are perfectly happy to get flogged or to cross-dress or to be a puppy with no expectation of conventional genital sex. This can seem bewildering - what’s the point?
The reward to the player may be intensely emotional, intimate, or even transcendent, while not including any form of genital arousal or orgasm. Some spiritual seekers speak of the “kundalini orgasm” or “whole-body orgasm,” in which the player is swept away in a giant wave of sensation or emotion that is not genitally focused. (Catherine described one in the story you just read.) Other players find such a profound sense of “rightness” in exploring a chosen role that conventional sex seems unnecessary or even distracting. Still others simply enjoy the playfulness, intensity or intimacy of kinky play, and prefer to keep that side of their play separate from conventional sex.
So, as regards to the question that started this section, the answer is: We don’t know. The best definition we’ve come up with is that sex is anything that makes you feel sexy - and sometimes you might just have to take your friend or relative’s word for what makes her feel sexy.
6
How We Stay Safe
If you’ve seen all the movies, novels and other sensationalistic trash that shows kinky people as deranged and dangerous, it may surprise you to hear that we actually give a great deal of attention to our own physical and emotional safety and that of our partners. If you’re feeling worried that your friend or relative is going to be harmed by his participation in alternative sex, this chapter may help you relax a bit.
Does an S/M player simply throw her partner down on the floor and begin flailing away with a whip? (You’ve probably seen movies that show her doing just that.) Does a cross-dresser surprise his partner by greeting her at the door in high heels, a mini-skirt and the brand-new silk blouse she just bought herself last week?
Well, no - such behavior would be ethically unacceptable, and would also make it very difficult for them to find partners. It’s realistic to think of alternative sexuality as a high-risk sport like scuba-diving or mountain climbing - an activity that has some risk, but whose risks can be lessened with knowledge, care and forethought. So how does your kinky person engage in his chosen “sport” with the greatest possible safety and responsibility? Here are some of the ways:
With care. That means care for each other’s well-being: physical, emotional and spiritual. We do what we do with care and respect for the amazing fact that another human being has chosen to meet us in this most intimate and vulnerable, as well as forbidden, world of fantasies and dreams come true. It is axiomatic among players that kinky play should be “safe, sane and consensual.”
With consent. We have said before that we believe that true consent in all matters sexual involves an active collaboration by everyone involved for the pleasure and well-being of everybody. That means consent freely and happily given, not by rape or bullying or emotional blackmail (tactics which are unfortunately well-known in the world of people vastly more conservative than we). For us, because we explore in areas that carry so much potential risk, consent is sacred. So how do we work that out in practice?
With negotiation. Kinky play, scenes and roles, limits and safety issues, are ideally negotiated in great detail in advance - preferably outside of the play environment, or what we call “scene space.” That means that it works better to discuss your desires and plans over breakfast, or maybe the day before, or in some neutral, unpressured space wherein the players can think clearly.
Consent doesn’t simply mean that one person tells another to go ahead and do whatever they like: thoughtful consent is a lot more detailed than this. Consent really means that both players have a line item veto, and that means they need to know what is going to be on all the lines.
Your authors were asked at a presentation we did for a Mensa group, “You guys keep talking about negotiation, and I’m not sure what you mean by that. Could you show us what a negotiation looks like, please?” So we did: quickly, and without nearly as much detail as we’d probably use in a real-world negotiation, we play-acted the roles of a committed lesbian couple negotiating their first play scene together. Dossie suggested that she’d like to have her hands tied to the headboard and to be treated like a little girl, but specified that she didn’t want her feet tied and that she didn’t want any tickling or pain. Catherine suggested a test run on that new dildo the two of them just bought, and asked if Dossie would enjoy sucking on her nipples (Dossie would). At the end of this quickie demonstration, there was a shocked silence from the audience, broken only by someone saying wistfully, “I wish everyone did that.” Well, so do we.
An exercise which many players use to get them started negotiating is called “Yes-No-Maybe.” Both players set aside an uninterrupted hour or two, and sit down together with a huge pad of paper. They write down everything they can think of that two people could possibly do together sexually - everything from holding hands to the wildest kink they’ve ever heard of or imagined. They don’t hold back or censor themselves, just write everything down.
Next, each player takes a fresh sheet of paper, and mark three columns: Yes, No and Maybe. She takes all the items on the big list and puts the ones she feels just fine about under “Yes.” The ones she absolutely doesn’t want to do under any circumstances go under “No.” If she’d consider doing something if she felt safe enough, or turned on enough, or whatever, she puts it under “Maybe.”
Then, the partners make the easiest plan they can think of out of what they find in common on their “Yes” lists. They pick one or two activities to try the first time, saving “Maybes” for later when they feel more secure. As they start easy and build slowly over time, they gradually develop a repertoire of sexual and kinky skills while learning more about each other’s needs, wants and limits.
Old enough and sober enough. We hope it’s clear by now that all the practices we’ve described in this book require an extremely high level of communication, emotional sophistication and ethics. It takes a long time to develop such sophistication. Thus, doing any sexual activity, particularly alternative sexual activities, with people under the age of consent in your state or country is not just illegal ― it’s a very bad idea.
Most children simply don’t have the emotional or intellectual ability to make truly informed choices about sexual behaviors; they also rarely have enough real-world power to take care of themselves if they’re being subjected to adult abuse or exploitation. They could really be harmed, and it is our job, as adults, to protect them from harm.
It is also critically important that everybody involved in alternative sexual practices must be able to give meaningful, well-considered consent. If someone’s mood or judgment has been altered by alcohol or drugs, their consent doesn’t mean much. Intoxication is strongly discouraged in virtually all kink communities. (Besides, why would anyone want to set up all that wonderful kinky sex and then miss out on it because they’re too drunk or stoned to feel the sensations? Our experience is that “feeling no pain” usually means feeling no pleasure either.)
Limits. A good player knows his limits, whether he is planning to be the bottom (victim, slave, baby, kidnap
ee, or whatever) or the top (villain, master, mommy, pirate captain, etc.). Everybody has limits. Even though some of us would rather dream of wide open spaces, where anything is possible, the truth is that we are planning to bring a fantasy into reality, where suddenly the laws of gravity and the limits of our knowledge, our experience or our desire - often even our equipment - are entirely real and need to be dealt with.
If Bill is turned off by sticky feelings, it’s good idea for Joe to know it before he cuts loose with the whipped cream and an eager tongue. Some people have limits around real traumas from the past ― Dossie still doesn’t play with anything that sounds like punishment - or anything else that they believe will be too scary or too uncomfortable, not erotic, or anything else that might cause problems in the scene. Tops have limits too ― limits of experience, as well as whatever is uncomfortable or undesirable for them. We all have physical limits ― asthma, carpal tunnel syndrome, contact lenses, etc. - that need to be discussed and understood before anybody gets tied up.
During negotiations, information is exchanged and agreements made about safer sex, any health risks (from herpes to HIV), birth control, and what precautions the players plan to take to reduce the risk of passing something unwanted from one to another. Your authors strongly believe that all sexually active adults have a responsibility to educate themselves about safer sex and practice until they become competent with whatever protections, like condoms, they deem advisable to preserve everybody’s health. Many kinky players have advantages here, as most toys can be easily sterilized or kept clean, and fantasy roleplaying is often a no-risk sexual activity. We wish we could refer you to a good book on current safer-sex thinking here, but there hasn’t been one in several years, and diseases and their prevention change rapidly. The World Wide Web and your local sexually transmitted disease clinic can answer any questions you might have; good places to start your search would be your local chapter of Planned Parenthood, or the excellent website at http://www.safersex.org.
Two people who have played with each other before might simply inquire if anything has changed, or talk about how they envision the proposed scene. If they are planning a scene that has the potential for profound emotional catharsis, they might more deeply discuss their feelings, or what works for them if they should need comfort, or calming, or support. Both of them: once when Catherine played violent juvenile delinquent ravishing Dossie’s innocent prom queen in what became a very intense scene, it was Catherine who needed comfort and reassurance afterward ― which, we assure you, she received in generous measure.
Many players also set a time, perhaps the next morning over breakfast, when they will discuss how the scene went for them, what worked, what didn’t, what they might have liked a little different: such discussions should also include thanks and praise for what made them the happiest about the scene, which is often the most important information of all.
Safewords. Much kinky play involves the fantasy of nonconsent, which means sometimes the bottom may wish to make believe he doesn’t actually want to (even though he does), and may enjoy shrieking, “No! No! Not the rabbit fur! Anything but the rabbit fur!” (This is affectionately known among players as “Please don’t throw me in the briar patch.”) So some other way to communicate actual nonconsent is needed, ideally in words that neither player would ever utter in the heat of passion: “Please, please, please” is too ambiguous. Some players call for a break, others use pet words (uncle, for instance), and many find the words “red, yellow and green” a convenient code, where “red” means “Stop right now, we need to talk,” “yellow” means something like “Slow down” or “Go a little easier, please,” and “green” means “This is great, let’s keep going!”
Safewords may be used by the top or the bottom, and are always to be respected. It should be understood that a person who has stopped a scene with a safeword may be very embarrassed or feeling like a failure, so the ethical response to a safeword is mutual support, reflecting the assumption that a safeword communicates an honest need and is never to be questioned.
One kinky friend of ours, the mother of young children, has taught her kids and their friends how to safeword - an ideal strategy for keeping childish tickling and wrestling at a level that feels safe and fun for all concerned.
Years ago Dossie described this approach to negotiation to a friend who was worried about Dossie’s safety in exploring S/M. This friend, on hearing what you have just read, was so moved that she burst into tears. She explained how much she wished sex in her non-kinky life could be negotiated with so much thoughtfulness and respect. Indeed, the principles of negotiation in S/M were derived from what sex therapists recommend to all sex partners: good and accurate communication improves everybody’s sex life. So much for the “unspeakable.”
Communication. Talking explicitly about sex has been forbidden in our culture for a very long time, so anyone who values clear and honest communication about sexual matters can expect to invest some time and energy in learning how. We promise you that should you choose to make the effort to overcome embarrassment and learn to talk about sex, your investment will be richly rewarded. Imagine how your life would be if it were easy to say “That tickles!” or “You’re rubbing... too hard, too soft, too high, too low,” whatever it is that will make your lovemaking work better. Only with good communication has your friend or relative been able to develop the trust on which good sex is based ― remember, the shared vulnerability of risky communications can only strengthen and deepen intimacy, and get everybody more of exactly the right kind of sex they need for the joy in their lives. If you’d like to learn more about being a better sexual communicator, you’ll find some good books about communication for people in all sexual lifestyles in the Resource Guide. But meanwhile, rest assured that your kinky person has already done at least some of the hard work of learning to communicate the information required to keep her sex life healthy, happy and fun.
Safeguards. Everyone is responsible for safety. All players, not just the tops, are responsible for researching any proposed activity and learning how to do whatever that is safely. For instance, it is safe to spank or flog on well-padded parts of the body, and not on unprotected areas where organs or tendons, or other vulnerable parts, might get bruised. Good bondage requires knowing how to maintain circulation and comfort: very few folks are eroticized to pins and needles. Reading good books and attending support groups and workshops are good sources of information about how to make one’s dreams come true in a healthy and safe way. So if you want to know if your kinky person is playing safely, you might ask about where she gets her information.
While the top is primarily responsible for preserving safety during a scene, and knowing how to do bondage or use a whip correctly, the bottom is also responsible: for setting limits, for letting the top know when something is going wrong, for using safewords when needed. The bottom may feel reluctant to stop a scene in progress to let someone know that his foot has fallen asleep; the top may feel reluctant to ask if the bottom wants more or less of whatever - it is embarrassing, and definitely disrupts the flow. Experienced players learn that interruptions can be worked through, and that a level of arousal that took half an hour of foreplay to get to in the first place can probably be reattained in just a few minutes after a pause.
So the bottom who heroically thrashes on even when he knows that the whip is landing in the wrong place is not a hero at all, but simply irresponsible: imagine how his top will feel in the morning when he sees all those welts in the wrong place!
Similarly, emotional safety needs to be discussed and negotiated, and that means we may need to talk about some pretty vulnerable stuff. If a play partner wants you to role-play a rapist and you have been raped yourself, then there might be a lot of risk for me in there, and even if you decide you want to try it out, and even if it turns out to be an effective way to empower myself and heal old wounds, it is obviously important that your partner in this endeavor should know about your concern
s.
A final kind of safety involves partners who have not played together before. While predators are rare in the kinky communities - possibly rarer than in the straight world - they do exist, and playing with someone you don’t know very well without protecting yourself is foolishly dangerous. Thus, one of the most important functions of our kinky community is to help us take care of ourselves. When we play with someone new in private for the first time, we set up a “silent alarm” - a trusted friend who knows where we are, who we’re with, and when we’re expected back home. We may set up a special check-in time at which we’re supposed to call our friend to let her know we’re okay; if we don’t show up or call, the friend may have directions to call the police, or to take some other agreed-upon action. We also make sure that our play partner knows ahead of time that we’ve taken these precautions (which, thank heavens, are very rarely necessary).
Two different worlds. Probably the ultimate safety device in the playing out of fantasies is the clear boundary between scene space and the rest of our lives. Much of the content of most people’s fantasies, kidnappings, pleasure slaves, and so forth, are unacceptable approaches to how they are going to live their lives in the real world. If any of us choose to be victims or villains as a permanent lifestyle, like at work or raising the children, obviously we would be making dysfunctional choices with potential for harm to others, and our lives wouldn’t work out very well. So we make agreements with people we trust, and with clear negotiation, to pretend to be the creature of our fantasies for the duration of a scene, or a weekend, or at certain times in a long-term relationship.
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