Posted by juliettex on Thu 5 Mar 09, 5:09 PM to juliettex's blog.
(Another little extract from my blog at www.thenewadventuresofjuliette.blogspot.com - this one definitely on the Very Controversial side. If you're easily offended, probably best not to read this post - but if you are, and you do, then please don't flame me 
Following a couple of recent posts, I find myself musing on the subject of People Who Take This Shit Way Too Seriously.
Be warned. This one's going to get controversial.
I remember one evening some time ago, when - over a bottle of wine and a cosy catch-up - a friend of mine 'came out' as being into all this BDSM jazz. Unlike my own occasional private dabblings, she was doing it properly, with clubs and munches and spending ridiculous sums of money on mind-blowingly hideous fetish gear.
'Well, if that's how you swing, good luck to you,' I said. 'I mean, if that's how you like sex -'
'Oh, no,' she said immediately, in tones of utter horror. 'It's not about sex at all. It's something completely different. So much deeper.'
Her voice was laden down with the ominously earnest, offendable humourlessness that characterises an awful lot of this BDSM malarkey. So, sensing this could easily lead to a row and spoil our pleasant evening out - nobody gets aggrieved and stormy-outy faster than an affronted sado-masochist - I immediately bit down on my instinctive reaction.
Which was: 'Don't be such a pretentious fucking muppet. Of course it's about sex.'
Honestly, to listen to some of the keener BDSM practitioners waffling on about their chosen hobby, you'd think they were spending their spare time communing with shamen on some far-flung mountain and tuning into the cosmic secrets of the Infinite.
Not having their bum smacked by a chubby middle-aged lady dressed up as Catwoman.
'It's so intense,' these people often go on to say. 'There's so much trust involved. Because you're playing with real helplessness. And real fear.'
Well. Um. Except. Obviously there isn't any actual real real fear, which is widely held to be a Very Bad Thing. If there ever is the faintest smidgeon of real, genuine fear -and you ever get the feeling that your partner is ignoring the relevant 'elf-and-safety concerns - the accepted procedure is as follows.
A - Shit pants, B - Run out of room at first available opportunity like greyhound with arse on fire, C - Tell everyone else in five mile radius in manner of sneaky little classroom swot running off to headmaster.
(Three point plan. If in doubt, just remember 'SRT - Shit Run Tell.')
So that the other reckless, hedonistic pillars of the BDSM community can go 'Ummmmmmmmmmmmm,' wag their finger reprovingly, and refuse to play with the rude nasty boy who broke the rules.
Nice safe reliable masochists only want to play with nice safe reliable evil sadistic tormentors who will terrify, abuse and violate them in a safe, sane and consensual setting - with the accepted risk management mechanisms in play, and the appropriate safety equipment close at hand. And who, when torturing their helpless captives to the very brink of sanity, will be sure to keep a close eye on their temperature and circulation.
And you have to make sure they've got a warm blanket and a cuddle at the end, you know. Because otherwise they might get really really upset and start crying.
Now of course, this caution and conscientiousness make perfect sense - it's all fun and games till someone loses a tit. And, again of course, BDSM folks are entitled to exercise the same caution, restraint and self-preservation instincts as normal people.
Just do me a favour, and don't go claiming your lame, toothless, ultra-safeguarded little role-play games represent some kind of empowering, terrifying walk on the wild side - and that you're genuinely surrendering your life into the hands of another by slipping on a pair of handcuffs.
It's like people thinking they're some sort of legendary daredevil because they once went on the big ride at Eurodisney.
The only thing funnier or more annoying (depending on your mood) are the ones who say 'my dominance is innate.'
'No, I'm not joking,' they say earnestly. 'It characterises everything I do, in every single aspect of my life. If anyone challenges my natural authority - be that a stranger on the street, or a manager in the workplace - I will assert my superiority and dominance. Because this is simply who I am as a person, extending far beyond my sexuality, and I make no apologies for it.'
I'm sorry, but - in real life - this approach to the world would quite clearly be an empty five-lane motorway to certain disaster.
As, in real life, your inherent mastery and brusque peremptory authority will not be greeted by a chorus of 'O Master, we abase ourselves before your magnetic arrogance and strength of character.'
Assert your inherent superiority to a group of drunk hoodies hassling you on the street, and it will be greeted by a chorus of 'stitch this ya fucker.'
Do the same thing with your CEO, and it will be greeted by a chorus of 'Clear your desk. You're fired.'
Inherent Twue Domliness loses a certain 'je ne sais quoi' in the face of a stanley knife or a pink slip.
In short, you can tell the Twue Dom because they're the long-term unemployed one lying in intensive care with a face like a plate of steak tartare and a life expectancy of four and a half hours.
Wearing a leather waistcoat.
Jesus, the more I see of kink, the more I like vanilla....
J x
Edited Fri 6 Mar 09, 9:05 PM by juliettex
| 6 Mar 09, 10:32 PM magpieuk UK(LA), 4 yrs       |
So evil... yet so true You're like the coffee revels - I know I shouldn't like them and yet O bugger me it's hard being interesting all the time. I envy people who can be interesting in 300 characters or less | |
| 7 Mar 09, 8:16 AM KittyCatcher UK, 3 yrs  |
bloody funny as usual...would be if it wasn't so accurate!!. clit xx | |
| 7 Mar 09, 1:27 PM juliettex UK, 3 yrs |
Well thank you very much, Magpie and Clit!! Please tell your friends, family and significant others to check my blog out some time J x | |
| 8 Mar 09, 10:49 AM angellover UK(CM), 3 yrs  |
Your like a breath of fresh air.... fooking brill The highest fences we have to climb, are those we have built within our mind |
