Things have been way too serious and intellectual like around here lately. So I thought it was about time to inject some comedic relief. Ergo, today’s installment brings you a glimpse of the lighter side of BDSM and how not every single detail of a scene is exacted with surgical precision.
My partner, D, and I went to our first party together in October 2006. He’d been in the scene for a few years and since this was only my second party ever, I thought he knew everything about everything about how SM operated. At the time I identified as submissive only.. bordering on the more slavey side and wouldn’t even utter the word ‘switch’ in relation to myself. I did the whole ‘walk a step behind, lower your eyes,’ subby type stuff. I thought D was the be all and end all of BDSM. He’d been around a few years and he was a DOMINANT afterall, of course he knew what he was doing and every single little nuance of SM. Didn’t they all by default?
So we go to our first party together as a couple. I was brand new in this country, in this particular scene and still pretty darn new to SM in general. My experience was basically limited to a few scenes and the wisdom gathered from ”The Story of O’ and ‘Safeword’. Thanks to that type of crash course, I was of the mind that D was Stephen of Roissy who lived in an estate with leather walls and red brocade curtains. I thought that a submissive in a scene was there to do nothing more than ‘just take it. Take whatever your Master dishes out, without moving, without sound and certainly without opinion or objection!’ Thanks, Pauline.
Here is where my reputation as a stoic got its start: No matter how hard he hit me or with what, I was determined to keep still and keep quiet. Dont move a muscle and dont utter a sound. So that’s what I did. Take the pain, TAKE I
T! or you will displease your Dominant and that makes you a bad girl. Noone wants to hear ‘bad girl’, so I kept still and quiet the way ‘good girls’ are supposed to. (the idiocy of my thinking alternately makes me laugh or want to go back in time to that version of me and slap her upside the head with a phone book.)
Our scene started and I was cuffed to the bar and blindfolded. D is whacking away at me with every toy we had. ‘Every toy we had’ at that time meant a briefcase that came with a free set of steak knives filled with a few handmade floggers, dollar store pervertables and some crafty little items he’d whipped up. One such item was a nasty little bugger we named ‘The Whisk’. If you saw it you’d laugh, it looks like a prop for a cheap ass Dominatrix Halloween Costume. An actual kitchen whisk would probably look more intimidating. It was a foot long piece of half inch dowel (painted black of course, this IS BDSM afterall) with 6-8 strings of 10 inch (black!) latigo lacing attached to the end. It weighs practically nothing and looks like a prop of a Roman Scourge in a kindergarten production of ‘The Passion of the Christ’.
Thing about that whisk is, its fucking evil! That piddly little prop of a toy can slice you open and have you calling ‘red!’ in one strike if that’s the desired effect. We should rename it ‘the Serial Killer’ because it seems to nice and harmless. It aint.
So D is wailing away on me with that stupid thing. He’d been at it for a while since, thanks to its lightness, it weighs practically nothing and can let the top keep running the scene long after getting major flogger fatigue from a more ‘Universally Accepted by the BDSM Magistrates’ type toy. After a fairly long time of ‘just taking’ that intense sting, I started to wiggle and moan with each strike. Just a little one.. a foot raised here, a shoulder turned away there, a lip biting here, a teeny little squeak of ouch there. Doesn’t sound like much but when your girl hasn’t moved a muscle fiber in an hour no matter what you do to her, a raised foot becomes a monumental reaction.
He jumped at the chance to lay some of that awesome Domly mindfuck language on me. ‘Dont move, bitch, or I’ll hit you harder.’ ‘WTF is wrong with you girl, I gave you one simple order and you cant follow it? BE STILL!’ and other such growly and wonderful things. At the time it never entered my head that he might be saying it just to fuck with me, I thought he was actually getting mad and disappointed in me. I resolved to be even more still.
I failed. He whapped me a right good one across the shoulders and my knees buckled. I got back up as soon as I could to try and resume my stoic stance so that my Master might use my body for the infliction of pain for his own pleasure.
We’ll pause for a second while I quell the nausea that my then headspace now gives me all these years later.
ahem….
I stood up just in time to hear him say ‘I told you to be still, slut!’ and THWAP! that damn whisk wrapped around and caught me square in the face. ‘Holy fuck, he’s really mad at me!’ I thought to myself. ‘ Ok ok.. be better! Be still! I dont want that in my face again FFS! I didnt even know you COULD slap someone in the face like that! I thought that wasnt allowed! Could have sworn I read that in ‘Screw the Roses’, but he’s been around, so he would know that stuff. Yep, he knows what he’s doing so just do what he says!’
I didn’t move again. He didn’t hit me in the face again. At the end I got a ‘good girl’ and all was right and happy in my little world. Take THAT lil miss story of O! Oh wait, subs arent supposed to say that kind of thing are they? Fuckmuffins…
A few months later we were at a BDSM 101 workshop. Great time for it, eh.. AFTER I’d been in the scene for a while now? Well why break my longstanding tradition of doing everything ass backwards? So after a bit, the conversation turned to ‘what to do when you screw up.’ All the folks with more experience than me giggled and did that knowing head bob thing. I was mystified. ‘When you screw up? But everything is just how the Dom wants it? How could anything ever possibly screw up?’
One guy said ‘Yeah, like when you meant to hit her ass and you wrap around to the front of thighs! All you can do is hope she dont see your face when you say ‘ooh fuck! thats not what i meant to do!’ Everyone laughed, I was still trying to make sense of the words spoken in my native tongue that sounded so foreign. So another guy says ‘yep, thats why you blindfold them!’
I heard D laughing behind me. I looked at him quizzically and said ‘What?’.
He said ‘Oh, like that time I fucked up and got you in the face with that whisk!’
I was horrified. ‘I thought you did that on purpose cause you were mad at me. I thought you were just all serious and stuff!’
He says ‘Oh hell no, it was an accident. I was so happy you couldn’t see me gasp and hope you weren’t gonna kill me when I took you down!’
My perfect little submissive world shattered. ‘I thought you were all hardcore and shit…’
He laughed, ‘not that day, that day I was just happy I remembered to pack the blindfold!’
And we laughed. And have been laughing about it ever since. Some people say there is no laughing in serious BDSM. I feel bad for them. The laughing scenes are some of the best ones! Maybe next time I’ll tell you about the oreo cookie pants scene, or the ‘Tarzan Swinging on the Suspension Rod’ scene or the time I got a little too close to a fuzzy caterpillar in a scene. Laughing is fun and as my wise friend used to say, ‘if it aint fun, it aint BDSM’.
~kim
Kink In Motion
