Virginity

 Posted by on August 15, 2012
Aug 152012
 

istock_000000110325medium-300x225-7958135Modern mythology can be an amazing tool to bring the sacred into our lives, to change the way we think about the world for the better… but it is also used, often unconsciously, to preserve prejudice, support misinformation and perpetuate violence

Virginity

What were you taught about your virginity? How did this play out in your sexual experiences, either with virgins, or as a virgin yourself?

ShirinSadeghi stake on virginity in Ceasefire Magazine summarizes the scholarly opinion on the subject (or at least, what people managing to get books published in the topic think):

“[A] woman’s virginity is realistically a non-issue (and actually impossible to prove) but politically a powerful tool of containing women’s independence and dominating a woman’s ability to explore herself and her world.”

So why is modern mythology so sure of the virtue, value and violence of this “coming of age” event?

Virtue

The bottom line in virginity mythology is that a woman who has not been penetrated by a man is somehow more “pure” than one who has, regardless of whether or not that sexual encounter was consensual. Not only does this perpetuate the idea that sexual violence shames victims rather than perpetrators, but it creates an impenetrable veil of mystery surrounding the phenomena of female sexuality. It tells women that they lose something of themselves when they finally give in to their desires, rather than showing them how much they can gain from understanding their sexuality and owning its powerful potential.

Value

Not only does a woman lose something the first time she is intimate with a man (because in normative virginity mythology, sleeping with another woman “doesn’t count”), she loses incrementally every time she has sex with someone else, every time she expresses a desire for sex, every time she masturbates. The more interest a woman shows in sex, the more she risks being shamed – called a “slut” with the implication that women who have “given it away” to “too many” men loses all her power… becomes worthless.

Violence

When we believe that women lose through every sexual interaction, then it seems reasonable to assume that she must be, at least in part, giving that thing up unwillingly. It makes it okay to “take” sex rather than share it.

Pop her cherry, break the hymen, take/lose her virginity… the language we use to describe virginity is inherently violent. The long and short of it? We have a fundamentally flawed understanding of female anatomy. I’ll let the amazing Laci Green explain it to you:

Using language that suggests that blood and pain are a normal, natural part of sex perpetuates a society in which sexual violence is acceptable and women’s pleasure is optional at best.

Where do we go from here?

A New Mythology: Performativity

How can we counter the destructive mythology of modern sexual culture and build something new, something inspiring? Can sex be a collaboration, rather than the battle of the sexes? If you haven’t read YesMeansYes: Visions of Female Sexual Power and A World Without Rape (and you should), you can find a longer excerpt from “Towards a Performance Model of Sex” online.

Why a performance model?

As Thomas Macaulay Millar points out in his incredibly essay, the benefits of performativity are numerous and life-changing. It is the act of treating sex as another, incredible act of artistic creation. Rather than the judgement and adversarial attitudes we might conjure up when we think about “sexual performance” the model is a concept of sex as a collaborative, creative effort between two or more people, of any gender, who are capable of each giving something to the experiences… and in which each gets something back.

Virtuous?

The virtue of a performer is in their skills. Skills develop with practice. Instead of putting arbitrary value in something which happens only once and is forever lost, performativity values the hard work and pleasure that comes from enjoying something enough to learn to do it often and well.

Valuable?

Performative sex is never a zero-sum gain. Someone doesn’t have to lose for another person to win. What is valuable about sex as performance is the power it holds to benefit both parties. Pleasure and intimacy engaged in with enthusiastic consent is a win-win.

Violent?

When enthusiastic consent is encouraged, when we learn not to assume yes or wait for a no, when we are comfortable talking about our desires before we jump head first into the beautiful mess, we shake the very foundation of rape culture. We tear it down, brick by brick.

Virgin?

How do you define virginity? What kind of sex “counts” as sex? Most importantly… why does it matter? In ancient times, the word “virgin” meant something entirely different. Virgins were named for the constellation Virgo, the word meaning “maiden, unwedded girl or woman” and associated with healing, sensitivity and passion. The goddess of love, Aphrodite, married and known for her many sexual escapades, is considered a Virgin Goddess.

Rather than marking her as inexperienced, the status of Virgin was one of a free woman, owned by no man, neither father nor husband, able to choose her lovers as she pleased and maintain her personal agency. Who better than the ancient, autonomous Virgin to herald a new age of sexual power, strength and collaboration?

Monastic Living for the Submissive Mind

 Posted by on August 13, 2012
Aug 132012
 

Earlier this week when I was at my local meditation center conversing with my meditation mentor about keeping up with at-home practice.  For those who don’t know… ideally someone meditates in a specific room in their living habitat which is off-limits to sexual activities.  My meditation mentor had suggested that I find a space to do meditation where I quickly informed him that my apartment was a mere 12ft-by-12ft apartment.

When explaining the sacrifices I had to make to afford to live on my own, especially in this economy, the term “Monastic Cell” was thrown out there.  Thought-provoking, and a lot nicer than what others have referred to my apartment as, I begin to realize that with enough structure and discipline one does not need to deny themselves certain items to stride for a monastic living situation.  Yes I don’t have every modern convenience but it is not only the limited space that makes monastic living a possibility but it is initiating discipline.

There is traditional monastic living and then individualized monastic living around the expectations of your daily life.  Traditionally monks have an expected time to wake up, to do prayer and recitation, classes, self-study, and prayer. Monks strive to live in the moment, for focus, and alertness.  Servitude is not only to themselves but to the community.  The level of servitude can exist in D/s by both co-dependency.  A schedule, which for some is easier depending on how the structure is in place, has a beneficial place for both rule-based and intent-based dynamics

A few years back I spent the summer with a now-ex who had a very strict schedule for me.  Monastic living became second nature. From 7 am in the morning on my summer break from college, walking for an hour, during which time I would start coffee and have breakfast for her by 8:30 am, cleaning during the morning, job searching during the afternoon, preparing dinner, and walking again I had a strict schedule.  Although some structures, such as the one above, have the potential to become overkill it is simply not just structure either.  As an older adult now I have the ability to stay discipline even when single, although much difficult, and remind myself that monastic living is also finding the ability to stay balanced through the day.

Balance is not simply being able to follow a routine to a “T”.  Monastic living engages meditation from catholic monks and nuns to Buddhists. It helps not only identify what is surrounding you but gives you a glimpse of your own body.  Your physical, mental, and emotional healthy.  Taken from the movie Eat Pray Love after Cruella finishes being silent for four weeks she states “Your face just relaxes, your throat just drops down [….] your throat will look amazing as well!” Any meditation practice, with enough discipline and focus, will begin showing insight about well-being and health.

Monastic living is simply not just a spiritual journey that needs to begin and end on the cushion or in a silent retreat… but can be invoked in any aspect of life with enough discipline.

An Object Lesson: Objectifying Kink

 Posted by on August 11, 2012
Aug 112012
 

In William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, Shylock muses “If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?” after being mocked and derided for his outsider status as a Jew. Many in the BDSM community are left asking the same questions when confronted with social organizations, court systems, and general public opinion that seem to disregard or minimize the agency and well-being of those involved in alternative lifestyles. It not at all unusual to hear about individuals being denied jobs, doubted when pressing sexual assault charges, or considered subpar members of society when information arises that they’re kinky. Research by Steve Loughnan, Nick Haslam, Tess Murnane, Jeroen Vaes, Catherine Reynolds, and Caterina Suitner, a group of social scientists and psychologists, may help to explain why kinksters seem to have so much trouble getting the respect they desire.

One of the main problems may be that the terms BDSM, kink, and alternative lifestyle immediately equate to sex for many people, deviate sex at that. In a culture which often teaches us to view sex as something to be traded and bartered with, the people who are thought to engage in it on a regular basis can easily become seen as objects and service providers rather than full-fledged individuals.  In short, they become objectified. While women are more susceptible to objectification in American culture, associating sex as the primary component in BDSM and kink may lead to the objectification of kinksters regardless of gender, sexuality, race, class, or creed.

Although objectification during a scene may be the epitome of hotness for some kinky individuals, most people rarely enjoy it in their day-to-day activities due to negative derivatives that come along with it. Loughnan et al. found that objectification leads to a deep sense of depersonalization, the denial of mind and moral concern to the objectified other. In fact, they discovered that when the average person is presented with images of scantily clad women and men and told the person in the photograph is experiencing intense amounts of pain, generally the viewer is more willing to allow that person to suffer than non-objectified individuals.

While the study focused on presenting participants with visual images and objectifying them via their clothing, there’s a strong likelihood that the result remain the same if one removes the visual and simply vocalizes information that easily allows the listener to objectify the subject. Here is where kinksters must beware, the mere mention of the words kink and BDSM may be enough to push one into the objectified Other category. Once solidly Othered, it’s very likely you will be deemed lacking in competence, higher thought, and emotional agency, making it easier to allow mistreatment.

We’ve seen this time and again – a rape victim is found to be into being flogged and suddenly they’re no longer an innocent victim, but making a big deal out of a hook-up gone wrong; a teacher is discovered to enjoy bondage and their ability to shape young minds is questioned; an actor admits they’ve even tried kinking it up in the bedroom and tabloids go crazy speculating about their over-the-top sexcapades being the cause of the end of their last relationship. While kinksters are always likely to find themselves Othered, they may do well to work at presenting BDSM as something more than just sex and, thus, reducing the rush to objectification.

 

The Ultimate Question

 Posted by on August 9, 2012
Aug 092012
 

There comes a point in nearly everyone’s life as a polyamorous person where they ask themselves the single most important question they can. Unfortunately, it usually comes under a cloud of doubt, pain and misery. It is almost always a “newbie” question, but it can happen to anyone.

The way it usually happens is all too common. The newbie (meaning someone with little to no prior experience being poly) is dating someone that is comfortable being poly, likely already has a primary relationship and probably has or has had several partners. It’s worse for the newbie if the relationship is long distance. The “oldbie” meets someone new. It is the newbie’s worst fear realized. A fun, shiny, sexy new person that is full of awesome and made of win has arrived. This new person is going to replace me, and I’ll be forgotten and alone. Then they feel bad for doubting their loving partner and beat themselves up over that. Finally, in a fit of despair and jealousy, they ask themselves “The Question”.

“If I feel this way, am I really cut out to be poly?”

I wish there was a simple answer. To all you newbies out there (and oldbies going through a crisis of identity) please believe me when I tell you that everyone has their moments of doubt. You can be perfectly happy living a polyamorous lifestyle for years and still experience negative feelings and emotions from time to time. I’ve been poly most of my adult life. At one point or another I’ve been involved in nearly every type of polyamorous relationship configuration you can think of. My poly identity has lasted longer than my decade long marriage that ended horribly because of new lovers, and multiple failed poly relationships along the way. Even now, after living with my partners in a happy quad for over five years, I still get feelings of jealousy, such as when one of my partners gets to do something that I wish I could but can’t. Jealousy is a symptom of a problem, not the problem itself (but that’s a different article). So, no, feeling jealous, envious or whatever does not automatically mean that you aren’t cut out to be poly.

But the truth is that maybe you aren’t. Not everyone can be polyamorous, in the same way that not everyone can be monogamous. Some people just aren’t “built” that way. Some could never handle not being poly. Most people fall somewhere in the middle. Polyamory and monogamy are one of the many false binaries that exist in modern society. In much the same way that there is a wide spectrum of sexually, with heterosexual on one end, homosexual on the other and a dizzying array of options in between, so too is it with relationship style. Rather than asking whether or not one is cut out to be poly, the real question should be, “Am I cut out to be polyamorous with this person, in this relationship?”

This is a question that demands honesty and self-reflection. It will require lots of thinking, processing and perhaps a few tears. But above all, understand two things. It’s OK to ask it, and your answer, whatever it is, is OK too. Your answer might hurt you and the people you love, but answering this question honestly is absolutely necessary. Don’t assume that a negative answer means everything is over. Your partner may be willing to renegotiate relationship parameters and boundaries if you ask. Only after you answer the real question negatively should you go back to the first one. The answer may be the same, but perhaps not. Perhaps polymory isn’t for you, or maybe your partner really is being a jerk-face. But until you ask the questions and honestly examine yourself for the answers, you won’t know for sure.

 

Fine Art of Flagging

 Posted by on August 7, 2012
Aug 072012
 

In these days of fetish social networks and online dating sites, it can be easy to browse an individual’s page and learn pretty much any detail you want to obtain. But in the days before easy to access “hook-up” sites, the information had to be subtle enough to hide from the squares but still be out in the open. Instead of writing your sexual desires on a tee shirt, you needed a code. This is where the term flagging came into play.

The nonverbal art of flagging can be an eloquent way of flirting. To those who don’t know the code, a “flag” is a colored handkerchief worn either on the left or right side to convey the owner’s preference, or intent. Those versed in the color code can start picking up cues well before any conversation even starts. Like any code, it is best to learn it’s history to really appreciate it.

Flagging began around the 1970’s primarily in the gay male cruising scene. An easy way to be open about your sexuality, but still remain under the radar of homophobic onlookers. This code includes  primarily colored bandanas in a crayola colored assortment, each with a specific meaning. A multitude of colors have grown, including patterns and different fabric choices, expanding on the those original themes.

Flagging has expanded out into the kinky community, and also opened up for women to be involved. But for many feminine women, the thought of having to stick to a hanky in the back pocket just didn’t work for them. Most pencil skirts don’t even have rear pockets. Flagging has begun to evolve once again. For femmes this means opening up choices other than just the hanky in the back pocket, which can come across as a more masculine fashion. Variations include rosette pins, barrettes made from hankies, and braided bandana fabric in the form of bracelets. A simple and inexpensive way of femme flagging can be through nail enamel. Applying the flagging color to talons is a great semi-permanent flag. You can also include more than one color to indicate multiple codes on either the right, or left hand. If you are just flagging one color, adding it as an accent color to the ring finger can be chic. Though it is a bit of a fashion trend recently, so you may have to ask some crucial questions before assuming the accent color’s meaning.

At fetish events it is simple and socially acceptable to just approach someone and ask deeply personal questions about their preferences. However, at a professional conference this would be quite taboo and perhaps insulting. I personally love flagging at conferences for this very reason. It is a way I can attend vanilla events but be able to find those kinksters hidden in the crowd. There is something very alluring about noticing those hidden signs when no one else knows.

Now that you’ve learned a little more about the growing world of femme flagging, I encourage you to go out experiment with color.

Choosing a Name

 Posted by on August 5, 2012
Aug 052012
 

What is it with names?  In the world of BDSM we have the opportunity to choose our own names, something rare in the rest of our lives.  The names we choose speak volumes.  Yes there are photos, art, and other creative ways to describe ourselves, but our names come first.  We choose scene names to give us a layer of privacy, to identify ourselves, to express needs, and to be our chosen role when socializing in kinky space.  Sometimes though, people pick scene or screen names that say more than they might’ve intended.  While everyone in kink has to choose their own public face, it is my hope to offer some ideas on how to choose names that are effective and comfortable.

How many times have you logged onto a personals site, checked your email and had that sinking feeling before you even read the first line?  The user name in the ‘from’ line is something like ‘SirCocksaLot” and you know that what’s to come will not be good. Even if they write well, are interested in similar kinks, and are local to you, a username that says they want the one thing you don’t is a distraction.  It skews how you perceive everything that follows.  That is how a name put on something sweet can end up stinking to high heaven.

Implications like these are often invisible to the person who picked the name.  They go blithely on; unaware of waves behind their kinky presence on the web until some horrifying real life experience stops them short.  I’ve heard the firsthand accounts from folks in my own social crowd.  Call it the law of unintended consequences as applied to kinky socializing.  The horrified newcomer at a munch hears from across a crowded bar “Hey SPANKY!”  While we all want to be known to our fellow kinksters, that might not be the type of ‘knowing’ you had in mind.

When it comes to identifying ourselves in the day to day world, we have lots of choices.  We can change our wardrobe, hair color, accessories, and even the car we drive in order to make a statement.  The internet is a little different.  Frequently there are no face photos, for good reason no doubt.  Without our faces shown off to the ‘net we need a way to carve out a bit of style for ourselves.  We want to fit in online, to immediately convey something about our kinks perhaps, and certainly to stand out.  Names like John or Sue?  They’re completely out of the question for the kinky pilgrim.  We want to be known.  Wouldn’t it also be nice for it to be ok to get shouted out at the mall?  With a little time and effort, you can make a choice that can make the leap between vanilla and kink as needed.

There are two basic theories I’d like to offer on naming choices.  The first is a basic reliance on real world first names.  This is ok for those who are comfortable with it.  It’s important to recognize that some of us need more of this separation of social space than others.  If you don’t need as large a buffer between the two worlds, or have no problem handing out your regular first name to folks when you first meet them in the scene, then you’re good to go.  You can meet new people and introduce yourself by starting with the name you want to be called, and just tacking on a reference to your kink identity: “Hi my name is John, but on Fetlife you can find me under ‘spanksalot’.  This identifies you as your vanilla self, and also gives your new friend your kink identity.  Now they have a way to learn about all the fun things you posted on your kinky profile.  After all, you shared those things on purpose!

If you’re not eager to put your first name out there, what is your alternative?  The following is my personal philosophy, and while I think it is effective and sensible, your mileage may vary.

Names shouldn’t be primarily actions.  Naming yourself after a fetish could mean being associated almost exclusively with that action.  For example, “luvz2spank” is a name that says the person is a top and that they love to spank someone.  It puts the cart before the horse when it comes to getting to know them though.  What else are they into? What do they like in others?  All you know is their fetish off the bat.  If you loathe spanking with a passion, you may not get to know them beyond that first blush.  So, perhaps leave the action words to the comics and let your actions speak for your character.

If you are looking to run under the radar when in public, choose a name that sounds like a name. Now if you’re ok being called Spanky  at the local bar, go for it!  But I don’t know how that would come across to the other patrons.  What if you’re not in a bar, but a mall, and maybe your coworkers stopped by to do some shopping while your munch was in progress?   Then you might really benefit from something that sounds safe.  If you love your online name and don’t want to give it up, go with initials based on your kinky identity.  If someone says “Hey, TF” and in your head that means “Tough Flogger”, then rock on with your bad self.  In that case, put some time into communicating to others that your initials are how you prefer to be called.   The short version of this guideline is: if you don’t want to be called by a name in a public place, don’t use it.

Many in the scene add a title on to their chosen names such as Sir, Lord, etc. , to indicate that they are on the top side of the power equation.  When choosing how to be addressed in general public, don’t make it all about your title.  If your sub is going to be required to call you “LordUberDom” that’s great!  Your dynamic is yours to own.   But don’t expect the rest of the world to address you as Lord anything without a sideways look or a snicker waiting in the background.   Asking people who aren’t part of your power dynamic to call you by a title is a bit pretentious.

There are a lot of don’ts on the list so far.  Here are some ‘do’s’ you might consider.

Do pick a name that has personal meaning for you.  Maybe there was a book character that resonated with you, a long lost friend or relative you respected, or a mythic figure that has deep meaning for you.  You can go with a spiritual source, a mundane one, or even manufacture a name.

Do be creative.  Choose something that feels comfortable and connected to your sense of self.

Do accept your instincts.  If you like being called Joe, just go by Joe.  You aren’t obligated to spell it Geoe and expect folks to pronounce it or hand out phonics cards. It’s ok to go basic.

Do be consistent.  There’s no need to rush the process, so once you do choose a name, try to hang onto it.  Changing your scene name can be confusing when trying to stay in touch with connections on or offline.

This is something most people never get to do, to choose their name that will be used in day to day living.  You are building your personal ‘brand’ as it were.  Rather than attempting to identify the whole range of your kink in your name, let your actions define you.  Build your identity around your name, and your reputation will take care of the rest.  As you create your kinky identity, enjoy the process, dig deep, choose wisely, and no matter what you go by, be true to yourself.

Settle for Clarity

 Posted by on August 3, 2012
Aug 032012
 

Being kinky can be frustrating, even maddening at times.  I remember, as a kid stumbling into my first fantasies, and feeling isolated and freakish, when I realized that some of the things I wanted were pretty exotic compared to most people.  I was in my early 20’s before I actively pursued kink with others openly.  Along the way there I had developed quite a desperate longing to be spanked and babied by a dominant woman.

I had worked out quite a detailed script in my head for the ideal fantasy scenario.  I’d get my pants pulled down and get scolded in a very particular way.  Then this ideal mommy type would drag me across her knee and spank me, before putting me down on the floor, and diapering me.

When I first got the opportunity to get spanked, or diapered, those very first experiences were thrilling, but always felt ultimately incomplete.  I wanted to follow my perfect script.  So I used to engage in a much-loathed behavior many call “topping from the bottom”.  It took me several years, and a divorce before I really got my head around why it’s such shallow, terrible, disrespectful, counterproductive behavior.

But the Taoist masters of old, they weren’t so shallow.  In fact, they were quite deep.

 

15.

The ancient Masters were damn impressive.

They were deep.  Real deep.

Words can’t even begin to describe how deep they were. You can only talk about how they acted. 

They were careful, like a man walking on thin ice.

They were cautious, like a soldier behind enemy lines.

They were polite, like a guest at a party.

They moved quickly, like melting ice. 

They were as plain as a block of wood.

Their minds were as wide as a valley, and their hearts as clear as spring water. 

Can you wait for that kind of openness and clarity before you try to understand the world?

Can you hold still until events have unfolded before you do the right thing? 

When you act without expectations, you can accomplish great things. 

 

The behaviors Lao-tzu is describing here are forms of the practice of mindfulness.  Mindfulness is the act of being fully present in the moment.  There are both external and internal aspects to being mindful.

First among these is to pay attention.  An old master walking on thin ice stepped with care.  He was able to cross an icy river safely because he was watchful of what the ice was doing.  This is just as relevant with the potentially scary, risky things we kinky people do.  You can absolutely tie someone up safely, hit them with implements, or pierce their skin without causing infection or permanent harm, if you pay attention to the person you’re doing it to.

Second is to be watchful.  An old master acted like a soldier crossing enemy territory.  He moved through it cautiously, taking care to mind his surroundings.  Yet, he still moved ever forward.  Being watchful in kink means preparing for anticipated risks, but also watching out for the unanticipated and being willing to move into unfamiliar territory.  I never imagined when I was first experimenting with being spanked that I’d enjoy being caned, or caning someone else.

Third is to be gracious and grateful. An old master treated every situation like that of being an honored guest at a party.  He would partake of whatever entertainment or meal was offered, in honest delight.  In kink terms, this is a very giving, sex-positive attitude. It means not just being open to trying new things, but also meeting people where their interests are.  When you partake willingly of what someone else has to offer you forge a deep connection with them.

Fourth is to flow with circumstance.  An old master acted like ice melting in sunlight.  Melting ice changes its shape and even form to a degree.  As it melts into water, it expands, completely filling whatever contains it.  Melting ice isn’t being destroyed – it’s fully using its transformation, to be one with its environment. That sort of adaptability is incredibly useful when playing with others.  Forgot your toy bag? Maybe those panties would make a good gag.  When you’re not caught up in past memories or future fears, you can become amazingly resourceful.

Fifth is to let go of identity.  An old master had no fixed identity; he was as plain as a block of wood.  This is a tough one to wrap your head around.  A block of wood is filled with potential.  It can be carved into almost anything.  I’ve seen this at work in my own life.  When I first started out in kink, I was a bottom, straight, and an adult baby.  Over time, as I’ve let go of having a fixed identity, I’ve evolved into many other things.  Now I’m a switch, sometimes a big, sometimes a little, and have a very ambiguous, flexible sexuality. As Lao-tzu says, when you let go of what you are, you become what you might be.

Sixth is to be open and still.  This was perhaps the old maters’ most powerful, ineffable, quality, that of purposeful receptivity.  Water in motion is often frothy, and hard to see through. But that same water becomes virtually transparent when motionless.  When water is clear from stillness, you can see all the way to the very bottom of it.  Topping from the bottom is the very opposite of this sort of stillness.  When I stopped frothing up the waters of my play with others by letting go of my expectations for that perfect scene, everything changed for me.  I got to see, with exquisite clarity, the joy of playing in that moment, with that person.

That is the big secret to mindful play.  When you play with others, without expectation, it’s like your stream and theirs meet to form a mighty ocean.  By trusting in them, as they trust in you, you can reach great new depths.  Let your troubled waters settle, for clarity.

 

 

 

Sex, and the Law: Consent and Beyond

 Posted by on August 2, 2012
Aug 022012
 

I presented a class on BDSM, Sex, and the Law: Consent and Beyond at the New England Dungeon Society last Friday, subtitle: “when things go horribly wrong.”   Because the truth is, “The Law” doesn’t get involved unless things do go horribly wrong.  In fact, some might say that getting “The Law” involved is the very definition of things going horribly wrong.  Nevertheless, I had the pleasure of doing this presentation, and it gave me a chance to think a lot about where the criminal law and BDSM intersect, how that intersection has changed over the years, and where we’re headed.  Note: I am not covering every relevant case here – for those interested in a comprehensive listing of state appellate decisions, check out the consent counts resources site at NCSF.

Looking at the cases and the law, it appears that over time, courts have become more willing to accept consent as a defense to assault in the context of a BDSM relationship.  The first important case here is from 1967, People v. Samuels.  This case is notable because it is the only case with no complaining witness – no “victim.”    Every other case here is based on a relationship gone horribly wrong; the prosecution was based entirely on a film.  In that case, the court wrote that it was a matter of “common knowledge” that nobody in “full possession of his mental faculties” would consent to such assault.  Nevertheless, the court continued, even if there was consent, Samuels would still be guilty of aggravated assault.  Again in 1980, the Massachusetts case of Commonwealth v. Appleby, the court wrote “Private consensual sadomasochistic behavior was not a defense to the charge of assault and battery.”

Fastforward to 1985, the Iowa cases of State v. Collier – another case where the court considers consent as a possible defense to BDSM.  This case is interesting because Iowa actually has a law that provides for consent as a defense to assault, so long as the assault is in the context of a “sport, social or other activity not in itself criminal,” for example.. boxing, or football.  Alas, the court didn’t see BDSM as a sport, a social, or even an other activity.  The court wrote: “it is simply preposterous to advocate…that the Iowa legislature even remotely intended that the sadomasochistic activity evidenced in this case was a “social or other activity” within the meaning of the statute.  Not good for our side – but I would call attention to “social or other activity” language.  I believe that as BDSM becomes a recognized “social or other activity,” the courts will be more likely to find consent as a defense. Moving on…

In 1999, the case of New York case of People v. Jovanovic is interesting with regard to consent to assault.  There was extensive email negotiation between Oliver Jovanovic and Jamie Rzucek.  They met, had a rather intense scene, & afterwards she went to the police claiming that it was assault (remember the part about relationships gone horribly wrong?).  At trial, the court excluded the email negotiation from evidence, saying that it should be kept out by New York’s rape shield law.  Oliver Jovanovic was convicted of sexual assault, assault, and kidnapping, and given a 15 year sentence.  The appeals court, however, said that the Emails should be allowed as a defense to sexual assault (where consent IS a defense) and Kidnapping (where consent is ALSO a defense), and so threw out those convictions.  The court also threw out the conviction for assault  suggesting that consent might have been a defense for that as well.  They wrote in a footnote that consent was still not a viable defense – despite the fact that they just allowed it.  Weird, huh?

One more state case – the 2009 Rhode Island case of State v. Gaspar: It begins the way many of these cases begin: Boy meets girl on internet, boy and girl connect & have intense scene, relationship goes wrong, boy is charged with assault.  But in this case, in instructing the jury, the judge writes that the case “ultimately presented only one question… did the events of the night in question constitute a mutually consensual sexual encounter between two adults, or a brutal sexual assault?”  While the judge writes about consent to sexual assault, he’s clearly talking about the BDSM scene as a whole.  And so in this case, the way I read it, consent could have been allowed as a defense to BDSM.  Alas, the case was decided on technical points, and so the court never really held that consent was or was not a defense.

As I was looking at these cases & preparing a presentation, there seemed to be a trajectory – that through the years, the courts have grown more willing to accept consent as a defense to assault in the context of BDSM.  In 1967, consent to assault was evidence of someone “not in full possession of his mental faculties.”  In 1985, it was “preposterous; in 2009 it seems as though the court was ready to accept this.  At the same time, BDSM itself seems to have gained a certain amount of public acceptability (evidence of this is easy to find, from the exponential growth of fairs and fleas, to the local bestseller lists).    I would argue that as the things we do become more culturally acknowledged, as we are considered in full possession of our mental faculties, as we are removed from the DSM-V, BDSM begins to be seen as a “social or other activity,” consent becomes more available as a defense.

This, for me, is something of an evolution.  At one point, I might have advocated for a specific defense for consensual assault in the context of BDSM.  However, in relationships and scenes that do not go horribly wrong, it is exceedingly rare that someone is charged with assault.   On the other hand, assault is all-too-common in relationships gone wrong: Domestic Violence.  In situations of domestic violence, it is also common for the complaining witness, the victim, to recant their story out of fear of future abuse.  If there was an explicit defense to assault between consenting adults in a relationship, it would be too easy for an abuser to claim that the assault, the violence, was consensual – especially where a victim recants their testimony.  As I said, I believe the answer is in a cultural recognition of BDSM relationships as a perfectly healthy relationships, and “assault” within such relationships as “sport, social, or other activity.”

Aug 012012
 

What we call magic markers in North America, Australians call Textra. Have no doubt, though: Alrene Textaqueen makes magic with felt tipped pens. Textaqueen loves markers and she loves her fierce queer community. She’s spent the past ten years drawing women and genderqueer folk “un-dressed-up” in her series of portraits entitled Textranudes.

Textaqueen’s work feels very flat, almost like a coloring book. Maybe it’s the use of felt tip pens that makes me feel like I have walked into a perverse art suppy, but the medium is effective. After all, what’s more accessible than a coloring book? We’re free to paint inside or outside of the lines and make up our own rules.  As many of Textaqueen’s subjects lie outside of stereotypical gender and sexuality binaries, this seems apt.

At first glance, her portraits may seem like caricature, but there is reverence in these marked lines, not mockery. Textaqueen is playful with both her markers and her subjects, making the work accessible while still being provocative. She does not consider herself a voyeur, however, but views her work as an engagement with her tribe. “I make my artwork for my community, though it also does make me a living,” she says.

Like Catherine Opie, Textaqueen celebrates the performative characters of her community. Her portraits are sexually charged, if not erotic. The sexuality is in the confidence and strength of her subjects. She talks to her models while she draws them, and the text in her work comes from these chats. Isolated from the larger conversations, these phrases become affirmations for gender, sexual and artistic freedom.

Something else that really appeals to me about Textaqueen’s work is the diversity of her subjects, and her unapologetic inclusion of all sorts of women and genderqueer people. We rarely encounter art that features stories about dis(ability), class or race that are not fully focused on the topic , especially  among representations of sexuality and perversity. Arlene Textaqueen embraces the complexities of her subjects’ identities, and doesn’t distort reality for the sake of someone else’s comfort.

That is not to say that her images do not have some distortion. They’re animated, alive, and a bit disproportionate.  “I don’t consciously distort my portraits,” she says. “I draw straight onto the paper with black texta reasonably quickly so I have to be confident in my line and the distortion just happens.” A quickdraw, she then must find a way for the rest of the figure and all the details to fit. Her drawings are cluttered with props and symbols of her subject’s lives, leaving no space untouched.

Some of her subjects are familiar: legendary sex activist, educator and artist Annie Sprinkle and her partner Beth Stephens (and their dog, Bob); Author Michelle Tea; and transsexual performance artist Annie Danger, who poses with a hulk fist on her hand and her legs spread.  Some of her models are just the girl or performer down the street, the people she wants to honour. Ultimately, these are the people of Alrene Textaqueen’s community: an army of queers, ready to form a revolution from marker to page, from Australia to the US of A.

(All Arelene Textaqueen quotes come from this interview: http://thedesignfiles.net/2008/05/interview-arlene-textaqueen/)

Jul 302012
 

Keeping a sexual connection in a long term relationship is not a given, but with some intention and self-awareness, I believe it’s possible. In some ways, I think it’s a choice to believe that it’s possible—I am invested in loving someone over a long period of time, and I want it to be possible. I think, like many of life’s great adventures, that my choice to continue loving and working on myself and this unique combination of myself with this partner will make a difference in whether or not it, for the long haul, works.

What is “long term?” It’s an arbitrary measure of time, and for all of us that might mean different things. A couple together for forty years might think that three years is just barely starting out, but for someone who has never had a relationship last over a few months, making it to the year mark might feel like long term. In looking at some of the stages of relationships, many of the models would put the initial “honeymoon” period at 5-8 months, and the “growth struggles” at 2-3 years in, which I would say is the beginning of the long term. Once the struggles start, usually the couple has to reevaluate if it’s worth it to stay in the relationship or not, whether the struggling is, ultimately, worth it.

Assuming that you decide it is worth it, you’re in the “long term” stage of the relationship where you’ve got an established sense of couple-ness, you’ve established that you want to stay in that couple, and you’re still working out how to precisely do that.

So how, in that process, do you continue to be mutually satisfied with your erotic life? Regardless of whether you are monogamous, monogamish, or open to whatever degree, your erotic connection with this particular partner is still relevant, and important. Unless you decide that you’re going to stay in this relationship and agree that it is, for all intents and purposes, sexless—which many people do for many reasons, and a perfectly fine choice – you will be faced with this question.

Many couples, on the other hand, are monogamous, relatively sexless, and perfectly happy, and they may have their own version of this question. In this culture of sex sex sex, sex positivity, and the constant focus on how important it is for a couple to stay erotically connected, is it bad if a couple is satisfied with sex once a month, every two months, four times a year? The short answer to that is: No. There’s nothing wrong with it, as long as you are both sexually satisfied. It is perfectly normal to go through periods (that may last years!) where you are basically uninterested in sex, and that is perfectly fine. The problems with sex in a long term relationship arise when what one partner wants is incongruous with the other partner, when shaming happens for needing more or less sex, or when needs don’t get met.

In other words: It is not about the quantity of sex that you’re having in your partnership. It’s about your level of satisfaction, about the deep pleasure (to use a tantric term) that you are taking from the relationship and sexual interactions.

So how do you continue to be mutually satisfied with your erotic life in a long term partnership? Particularly, how do you figure out how to keep—or add back—the spark and growl that you had when you were starting out, but that might’ve faded over the years? Many sex columnists would have you “light candles” and “talk about your fantasies,” but frankly those are fairly elementary suggestions that most of us have already experimented with. The real question, for me, is: What do you want? And what is keeping you from getting to what you want?

I have some ideas.

Really, the best suggestion I can make is to go back in time and make sure to establish a few things from the very beginning of your relationship: A) That you are interweaving your sexual selves, regardless of whatever degree you may be exclusive, and that you therefore are going to be key players in each other’s erotic lives; B) that you therefore are invested in each other’s erotic edges, in getting what you want, in exploring new and interesting things, and in, at the very least, meeting each other’s basic needs; and that, oh yeah, C) you are willing and eager to talk about sex.

But since you can’t actually go back in time, perhaps you can start establishing those things now in your relationship. Do you want to stay with this person? Do you want to have a satisfying, sexual relationship with this person? Do you think they would be willing to do some work to assure that you both have a satisfying sexual relationship?

Then there ya go.

Time to talk about what you want, what you crave, how often you want to get fucked, how often you want to just pound the shit outta them, and what kind of things you’re interested in exploring that you have either never done or wish you could do more of. Keep a sexual bucket list. Periodically update it, because things change constantly. Don’t be invested in who you used to be, six months or a year or two years ago. You’re these people now. Start where you’re at, and get what you want.