A few days ago I shared the audio clip that I posted just before Christmas with a friend.
A bit about LX: she came to me because she has a growing interest in D/s, one I’ve helped her explore. Although the exploration hasn’t been intensive, it has touched on mind play, bondage, and headspace. She’s a graduate student studying human rights and is someone I consider quite intelligent if a bit naive in certain areas.
Which makes her reaction to the audio clip rather fascinating. When I asked her to send me her thoughts on it, she transcribed the clip and added comments explaining what was wrong with it. These comments are, in her own words, rooted in feminism. This leaves me feeling rather conflicted.
If feminism is the idea that women are the equal of men, you can consider me a feminist. I do believe that because there are certain physiological and social differences between the sexes, there are activities where one gender has the advantage. In the end, however, it is the individual that decides the level of competency in any given area.
LX’s italicized comments follow the bolded sections they refer to. The red italicized sections are my response.
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I become an extension to you
Or rather, you become an extension of me
I reacted to this statement because if I – hypothetically speaking- become an extension of you I become something less than you, something without an entity of my own. In patriarchy that’s the place that women have always been given, the place that has been reinforced by the system. Even when said in a context of consensual DS it is rather perplexing that it isn’t questioned but accepted as part of the “nature” of DS. It’s like the woman is erased and is only allowed to exists because of the man who allows her to exists as an extension of him at that!
Becoming an extension of a person is not a lessening. It is a focusing. When I am with someone, in a D/s setting, I am paring them down. I am removing all that is unessential and laying them bare. I am eliminating all distractions and forcing them to exist in a single moment. I become a conduit, a focal point. A lens.
I may say that they are becoming an extension of me, but the truth is that in serving me, I am serving them. It is one of those little ironies that make D/s so fascinating for me.
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The spread of my fingers, the tightness of a grip wrapped around your pretty little throat
These are adjectives traditionally used (and quite often) to describe femininity, assigned to women. In patriarchy a woman isn’t a woman if she isn’t described, defined as “pretty,” “little.” These words also have socially assigned values of their own, and they seem to be adjectives that belong to someone who is learning, who needs to be taught, to a little kid.
You are correct – every word spoken or written comes with it a symbolic history. It is one reason I am so in love with words. In love with the right words.
You look for a patriarchal echo behind these words. In truth, I was aiming for a more sinister note. When I think ‘pretty little’ neck, it is in the context of all the bad things that can happen to pretty little things. Perhaps your thoughts on the adjectives provide a deeper explanation for why they come to be associated with the numerous scenes played out in tragic consequence.
But this is a lesson in how each of us relates to the words we use. If I were to tell my boss that she is a slut, I would get an entirely different reaction than if I say the same thing to my date who was currently begging me to finally let herself go over that edge I’ve kept just out of her reach.
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I can make you understand that every breath that you take is a gift from me
The first part of this phrase I find very condescending. The second bolded phrase, my breaths are not gifts from anyone, they are mine. Even in this position, when someone has power to not allow me to breath that person has taken something that does not belong to him/her. They are not gifts, they have been appropriated or misappropriated. Again, this reflects a lot of male/female relationships in patriarchy that say women are dependent on men even to breathe.
If you remove the power exchange undergone in these moments of D/s, if one individual is not assuming authority over the other in a physical, mental, or emotional manner, than we are no longer speaking of D/s.
What difference, gender? Although it is possible to root the power exchange in the male/female patriarchal dynamic you so often speak of, that is a choice between partners. To believe that is the sole basis for power exchange is to ignore the fact that this exchange plays out between same-sex couples; that it plays out in reverse, with a female dominant; that some couples switch, depending on mood and nclination.
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Which is why I leave you no choice, I’m just going to take it from you
I am going to take this and everything else from you
It’s not enough that you’re going to take “it” from me, but you’re going to take everything else so that there isn’t anything else left behind without you willing it. Again, the negation of a woman’s own self. Even in the realm of the sexually consensual everything else will be taken from here, her self will be vanquished.
We live our lives under constant pressure. Even those of us who keep it simple. We all have responsibilities we cannot ignore without consequence. Ignore work and you jeopardize food, housing, and creature comforts. Ignore friends and family and you jeopardize those relationships that provide you with emotional support. Ignore your hobbies and interests and you jeopardize your own mental health. Everything in life, even those things that by nature are meant to provide you with release, have burdens of their own.
My gift is that of freedom. I will take everything from you and then I will provide you the space and acceptance to just be.
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I want you to lay there with the weight of the hand around your neck.
It’s not enough to take “it” and everything else, you have to impose your will on the woman.
Yes, I will take everything from you.
And then, if you are good, I will replace it with something that will make you aware of how nerve endings can be played to a music as terrifying as it is thrilling. I will replace it the promise of pleasure that lingers for weeks, a second self, a silhouette of sinful indulgence.