Mentaljaculation

TL;DR: Your FetLife account might be more exposed than you expected. Don’t Panic. It’s not that bad, and you can still protect yourself.

(I originally posted this as a FetLife writing. A user asked me to post it outside of FetLife so it could be publicized further… so I’m reposting it here. Share and enjoy!)

In my vanilla life, I’m a professional software developer. I’ve been building web applications (ie: web sites that do stuff) for… checks calendar… ugh, 13 years already? Sigh.

Today John Baku posted this announcement about a tool that would let any Internet user browse FetLife without an account. Not surprisingly this scared a bunch of people.

Currently, at the top of K&P is this post entitled “The outrage of the day (View Fetlife without an account).” It links to a tweet that links to the source code for this tool. (The “source code” is the stuff that makes the program run. If you have that and the right technical knowledge, you can run the tool yourself; you don’t need on someone else’s website to run it for you.)

Currently, you can find this source code here.

Don’t get freaked out because I linked to it here. Linking to it doesn’t do any more harm than has already been done. In fact, it really helps the situation. The more people that can analyze this, the better. In computer engineering, we have a catchphrase: “security through obscurity is an illusion.” The jist is that you shouldn’t ever be relying on “nobody will know/care enough to hack our site.” Real security requires active & intentional work.

Fortunately, this “hack” doesn’t exploit any security flaw in FetLife. As far as we know, the people behind FetLife have done their jobs correctly.

This browse-without-an-account tool is what’s known as a “proxy”. What it does is take a sock-puppet FetLife account, log in with it, and then browse normally, feeding the web pages back to the account-less user. It’s actually very simple and unsophisticated — but effective.

Here’s the deal though: this is no different than a real person creating their own account and browsing like any other user. That user could be malicious, using their own fresh sock-puppet account. Or, it could be that cute new person you met at the munch last night. As far as FetLife can ever tell, there is no difference between any of these users.

And that’s the bad news. Ultimately, there’s no way to prevent this kind of attack without destroying the things that make FetLife work in the first place. That is: you need to be able to find & connect with new people.

All social networks operate on this same principle. The difference with FetLife is that they’re actually better than most at protecting your privacy. As far as we know (we’re taking them at their word here), they’re not explicitly selling your data to anyone behind the scenes. (Gives Facebook a dirty look.) It’s just you and your fellow FetLifers out there.

Yes, FetLife could change their own website source code to break this particular tool. In my opinion, they shouldn’t bother. Doing that just becomes an arms race with the kind of people who write this sort of tool… and, by the nature of how websites work, they will lose that arms race. It’s unavoidable.

Yes, FetLife could try to block the person responsible for writing the tool, the sock-puppet accounts used by the tool, and the computers that the tool uses to access the site. This is probably not worth the effort. More programmers, accounts, and computers will simply pop up to take their place.

Yes, FetLife could try to take legal action against the writer of these tools. I’m not a lawyer, but my guess is that they certainly will not win any real victory. It’s far too easy to go underground and dodge legal jurisdictions. I’m not even sure that any laws have actually been broken. (I believe you could make a decent legal argument that it’s not unlawful to do this.) John mentioned filing DMCA takedown notices; I don’t see any copyrights being infringed, so I doubt this will get very far. Even if you could pursue the matter in court, the legal costs would be prohibitively hight for FetLife.

The only thing that FetLife can (and IMO should) do is something that they’ve already done (to an extent): lock down your information so that only your friends can see it. Then, when the inevitable sock-puppet account/malicious user comes a-knocking, they won’t see anything of importance on your account.

Now for the Good News: FetLife already allows this for pictures, videos, and writings. These are the important ones. I suppose they could expand that to profile details (age, location, friends lists, etc), but this comes at a cost of usability. Every time you make something friends-only, you (slightly) weaken the social network that is the point of FetLife. (Consider how cautious you are if someone without a face pic sends you a message.)

Personally, I’ve decided to leave my pics & writings public, including my face pics. I think that the benefits of having not-yet-friends access my stuff outweighs the risks of having someone who is out to harm me see it. I might be wrong in my assessment. I won’t know until it bites me in the ass. Hopefully, that never happens.

You can make your own call. Go and make your sensitive pics and writing friends-only. Take everything that is sensitive out of your profile and put it in a friends-only Note. Take a walk down your friends list and drop anyone you don’t completely trust. Accept that your profile will be a little less welcoming, and take comfort in the fact that you’re being proactive about your privacy.

Got questions? Need advice? Want to tell me I’m wrong? Feel free, either in comments or private messages. Knowledge is power!

Edits & Updates

On Google Indexing

@optical_illusion makes a very good point: running a proxy that bypasses traditional login makes it possible for Google to spider/index the user pages, potentially opening up a vulnerability to search.

FetLife, for its part, is already doing what it can to prevent that. They include a file on the website (called robots.txt) which tells Google (and other search engines) to *not* allow search for the main pages (including the user profile pages). This makes sense, as since they’re normally protected by a login, Google shouldn’t be able to access the pages anyway. The proxy will also proxy this file, and so Google will (probably) not search the proxy either.

This isn’t foolproof. A proxy server could potentially modify the robots.txt file to allow searching & indexing. This one doesn’t do this, but the next version could.

As other commenters have mentioned, you pretty much have to expect that any information you put on your FetLife page could potentially leak outside of FetLife into the public. There’s too many ways to do this (both automatically and manually, maliciously or by accident) to assume real privacy. If it’s going to harm you to have it out there, don’t put it up here.

Yup, FetLife did get Googled

I searched on Google for “FetLife WryGuy“. There’s a lot there that’s expected for me personally (ex: my Twitter page), but lower down on the first page you’ll find this link:

http://fetlife.maybemaimed.com/JohnBaku-2012-07-21/fetlife/group_posts/2587139.html

The proxy has been taken down, so that link is dead now. However, Google saved a cached a copy of the page, which in turn is now publicly accessible & searchable.

And that sucks.

The good news is that Google will likely purge it from the cache (especially when FetLife asks them to for Terms of Use violations). But in the interim, it’s out there.

Note that this particular page wasn’t covered by the robots.txt exclusion I described above. My recommendation to FetLife is to disallow searching for all pages on FetLife (with the possible explicit exception of the not-logged-in page).

I am insatiable when it comes to touches. Physical contact with another person affects me at a fundamental level unlike anything else. I enjoy intellect, banter, intricacy, beauty, flavour, intimacy, eroticism, and many other things, but the right touch can surpasses them all.

The past few weeks were filled with social interplay. Looking back on it I remembered the different kinds of touches.

A finger running down my cheek, testing for reaction. My hands holding those of another, reassuring. A body reclining against me, casually but with underlying desire. Drawing rope across a new partner, teasing and testing. Two of us pressed together for warmth and comfort.

Touches used to be so rare; even incidental ones could thrill me. Now they’re abundant, and much more prosaic — but I find I appreciate them much more now. They flood my mind less; I can enjoy them as they occur, without looking for subtexts. One more thing that I like about me now.

B and I broke up. Actually we did it about two months ago.

I don’t know what I want to say about that right now.

What I do know is this: I feel a need to start writing again. (In part due to some encouragement, thanks SP.) And to do that, I need to fill in this particular blank in my narrative. While the our breakup isn’t news to any of our friends, there are some people who read this who may not have heard (including those who may read this in the future). A lot of what I want to write will only make sense in the context of our breakup.

So, while there might not be a lot of good reading right here, there’s enough that it’s worth a post.

Also, I want to start writing shorter, more frequent posts. Part of my literary dry spell has been that I haven’t had the time or energy to put into multi-day planned & edited diatribes. (They’re not necessarily good reading either.) But short posts are good for getting thoughts out as they crop up. (This one is coming ten minutes before bedtime.)

Short and incomplete is better than not at all. And with that, I think I’ll end this one. More to come.

I’m doing some scrubbing on my FetLife profile. (More about that later.)

It occurred to me that I should record what I write before I rework it, as a sort of journal. Then I can look back on it, should I so desire.

Plus, it’s a cheap way to get more content up here on my sorely neglected blog. (More on that later too.)

Here’s what I had up until today. It’s mostly what I wrote when I first joined FetLife; there were some tweaks in the early months of my kinky life. I’ll call it “2010″ since it’s most applicable to that year.

I’ve been kinky for a long time, but only started admitting it recently. I’ve dabbled a bit and studied a lot; now I want to explore with the community. FetLife looks like a good first step.

I’m calling myself a “Dom”, though I like to switch now and then. To a large extent, I reflect the identity and pleasures of my partner. So, I’ll play Dom to a sub, sadist to a masochist, bottom to a top. I sometimes like to sub to an enthusiastic Domme, but I definitely prefer being on the top end of things. I’m not much for roleplay outside of D/s, and have a low-level (but developing) appreciation for fetish wear.

My real first name is Craig, and that’s what you’ll probably hear me go by in real life. There’s so many names for a new person to remember already; I don’t want to complicate it more by doubling up.

My wife and I are taking our first steps in the scene; we’re hoping to meet some great people who will introduce us to the scene. Real-life local to Calgary is ideal but online friends are welcome too. I’m interested in anything that anyone has to say; feel free to leave me a note if you’d like to talk.

I just started a blog about my new sexual life chapter. I’d be overjoyed if you read it and left a comment. It’s at:

http://thoughtgasm.net/

I hope everyone is having all the fun they can handle!

It started with Tupperware. (But then, all of my scenes start with Tupperware.)

I was helping clean up after a large and tasty dinner created by RP. Another guest was having trouble fitting a warped lid on a container. I was asked to perform my manly duty and force it into the proper position. I managed to prevail after some struggle. All the while, RP made some good-natured dom-ly comments to egg me on during my exertion. “Why haven’t you gotten it yet? Do you know what’s going to happen to you if you can’t.” That sort of thing.

I fitted it, and got it ready for storage. Then she told me: “ask my submissive for her keys, and put it in her car.”

There was no mistaking the tone in her voice. It was an order. And I bristled. I hate being given orders.

I knew RP, but not terribly well. And she didn’t know me, except for my typical get-things-done demeanour earlier in the day. It’d be easy to mistake me for submissive. Or, perhaps she was just seeing how much she could get away with.

Either way, I wasn’t going to play by those rules. But I wasn’t angry; it was a fun spark struck in my mind. I paused, and gave her a look.

She picked up on my disobedience immediately. I think she was hoping for that reaction.

“Ask my submissive for her keys, and put it in her car.” Same tone, more definition. No anger or frustration — just command.

Oh, but I heard you the first time. Stand up straighter. “Now you know I can’t do it when you ask like that.” Big grin.

She came in closer, dark eyes flashing, just below mine. “You are going to do as I say, because I tell you to. Ask my submissive for her keys, and put it in her car.”

“No.”

“Do you think that I can’t make you do what I want?”

She ran her hands to my biceps, grabbed two fingers full of flesh, and squeezed — hard. It hurt, but it was tolerable. Not backing down was worth the pain. I set the container down.

“I’m not going to do it when you talk like that. Ask nicely.”

She moved under my shirt and did the same to my nipple. Still more pain; still I took it. I made no attempt to stop her. Deep breaths.

“I don’t ask nicely.”

Then when she pincered my raw nipple between the tips of her fingernails. I had to pull away; It was too much. Fuuuuck. Stand up straight again, recompose.

“Ask my submissive for her keys, and put it in her car.”

“No.” Heart and mind racing.

She came at me, grabbed my upper arms with her hands, and began to force me around.

Here’s where the practical part of my mind reared its head. We were in very tight quarters with the things around us: tables, chairs, food, people; no place for a scuffle. But not far away there was an space against the door, out of the way of anything breakable. I locked arms with her and shuffled us off in that direction; she figured out what I was doing and followed along. Once in the right spot we slipped back into the scene.

She held my wrists against the door, above my head. I was in a submissive position to be sure. I had enough strength that I knew I could break out — but why would I want to do that?

She came in close, voice husky and menacing. “I used to bottom for [DW]. I can take any pain, and I know how to give it too. You’re not going to win.” Our noses brushed against each other briefly.

“Maybe not. But I’m not going to do it.”

Then she slapped me across the face.

For a lot of people, face-slapping is taboo, or at the very least edge-y play. It can be very humiliating and emotionally intense. It’s one of those things that you tread lightly around, negotiate, communicate, forewarn. None of that happened here. It came out of the blue.

But it didn’t phase me. Not at all. I recovered immediately, sensing pressure but no pain. Realizing that I could shrug it off made me feel even more empowered. So I let her do it again. I may have even mentally dared her. And she did, several times. Each one brought me an extra bit of pride as it deflected off my ego.

But she had upped the stakes. Now it was time to call.

The next slap I blocked; her arm bounced off mine. I grabbed her arms, forcing mine inside of hers. I squeezed; she didn’t stop. She tried to reverse my hold on her, but each time I pulled out of it. I grabbed her by the shoulders to try and force her back to me — a more submissive position, from which she couldn’t easily fight back. From there, I maneuvered my arm around her neck in the beginnings of a choke-hold (taking care not to actually put pressure on her windpipe; that’s a very dangerous move). I had it, but only briefly; she pulled out of it and renewed her attack.

RP is a buxom, powerful woman. For me, she’s the perfect partner for this sort of rough play. She’s not male, which is important for me; while I’ve improved my attitudes towards men when it comes to sex and BDSM, I’m still not completely at ease with the idea. Had a man tried this scene with me, I think I would have had a very different (and negative) reaction.

She is not dainty either. She’s strong, and knows it. She boasted about her pain tolerance. She threw the first (figurative) punch. That helped remove my trepidation about breaking a woman. She could take it — and so I could let myself go.

We sparred for a while. I grabbed her by the hair (one thing she couldn’t effectively do to me) and pulled her down and away. This didn’t phase her, and she escaped it too. At one point she dug her fingers into my neck, right where it meets my collarbone. This was… interesting. It wasn’t as painful as the attacks she inflicted to my arms and chest. It felt… bright. (It might have been some sort of synesthesia.) And it was somehow pleasant, in a novel way. I’m guessing she hit some sort of nerve bundle. When she did it a second time, I could feel myself letting it happen — and wanting it to happen. But only for the briefest of instants.

When we found ourselves matching evenly on physical jabs, she switched to mental ones.

“Do you think you have what it takes to beat me? I was a bottom for a long time. I can take more pain than you know.”

It was true too, as best as I could tell. She wasn’t flinching from anything I threw at her. I tried to hit one of her pressure points (I had been in a workshop for pressure point play not a week before). This failed miserably, and I earned a laugh from her for my attempt. (Mental note: study this more for next time.) Still, I wasn’t intimidated by this, so she changed tactics.

“My sub is over there, watching and enjoying this. What is yours doing? Are you going to let her watch this?”

This is what got to me. B had seen us start to play, and had given me a quick “Are you OK with this?” when it had begun turning into the scene that it did. I wasn’t at all sure how she was feeling about this scene, and I couldn’t see where she was at the time. I wanted to check in with her — that meant giving up. It caused a conflict in me, and I could manage it — but it was tougher than anything else I’d taken so far. It was the right button to push — albeit a bit of a dirty one. But all is fair in love and war — and here we were, playing at both.

We kept this up for a while, and it was fun, but it ended up in a bit of a stalemate. I wasn’t giving it all that I could, and I’m pretty certain she wasn’t either. (I kept expecting a knee to the groin that ultimately never came. Thanks for that, BTW.) There simply wasn’t room to go full out. And it was starting to get repetitive.

So, eventually, I acquiesced. I stood up, said “you win”, and gave her a hug to show her and everyone else that it was All Good. Then I went over to her submissive, and asked for her keys. End of scene.

She may have “won.” But I sure didn’t feel like I had “lost.” That’s one of the beauties of BDSM; it’s not a competition, but an infinite game where everyone can win.

It was an amazing scene from out of the blue. I was up for hours that night, replaying it in my head — and deciding how I’d write this post.

Geez, over four months since I last wrote. Time to get back in the saddle.

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve had a few people approach me and ask me about my kink role (dominant/submissive, etc). They’ve usually guessed something tending towards “wrong” — and that’s bothered me to some degree.

I do not blame them though. People see what they see and make their best guess. They can’t know what goes on inside someone’s head. And that’s what’s inspiring me to write now after a long absence. Not only can I reveal myself to the world, but I can explore my own inner workings. It’s great blog fodder too.

I believe more in “behaviour” over “identity”: let yourself be defined by what you do rather than what you call yourself. That’s a big deal in alternative sexuality, where we have a lot of labels — some of which go to the very core of our personality. Kudos to those whose behaviour is so focused that they can claim an absolute identity. I however, cannot see myself as anything other than a mix of adjectives (and one that is in constant evolution).

Here’s what I consider myself, as of right now:

Core

I want things to be better than what they are now. I want progress. I want problems to be solved.

If someone else isn’t already making things happen, then I want to be the one to do it. It gives me great satisfaction to achieve something, especially if it’s enduring; it’s my tiny mark on a large world. It’s my route to the appreciation and respect of others.

BDSM

FetLife has a encompassing list of roles; I’ll touch on the ones most applicable to me.

Dominant

Domination is an extension of my desire to create. I want to create erotic scenes that exhilarate people, primarily within the mind of my bottom and for those who may be observing. I want to be the one who directs and shapes the scene. In that space, it is mine to construct, and I am responsible for its success or failure.

Knowing how to do it well is another matter. It’s something that I’ve book-learned for years. Now I have a chance to put it into practice. It will take time and patience to make work, but I am dedicated to it; it’s very important to me.

Top

I top (note the verb) in order to accomplish my goals. Often that is part of domination, but it does not have to be. To me, topping is simply the act of doing; domination means taking over. I can top without dominating, and will if the situation calls for it. However, it does not excite me in the same way as domination.

Master

I interpret this in the sense of being a long-term, high-protocol, possibly 24/7 Dominant; in a sense, the peak of the BDSM pyramid. To me this is a lofty goal, and I’m not even certain it’s something I want. It’s tempting, but I have a sense that I might be a less-fun-in-reality-than-in-fantasy thing for me. Still, I’ve met some very respect-worthy people in the Calgary community who make me aspire to this role in the future.

Sadist

I do not think I am essentially a sadist, at least not for the sake of sadism itself (unlike some of the people I’ve met). I certainly do sadistic things, but they are usually in support of domination and/or topping. Occasionally my anti-sadistic feelings (what less enlightened people might call a “conscience”) will get the better of me.

Bottom

I like to experience things, and BDSM is a very wide world of things to experience. Despite my fundamental preference for top-y-ness, I do like to receive as well. Whereas topping and domination are mentally stimulating for me, bottoming is physically stimulating. And sometimes it’s nice to not spend so much energy to be a part of a scene. Bottoming is like being taken for a ride.

Also, I enjoy spectacle. I like watching, and I’m beginning to enjoy being watched too (at least with an appreciative audience). Being a bottom is an easy route to this. Eventually I want to be able to be able to put on a good show as a top, but that’s something I’ll have to grow into.

submissive

I have much more complicated attitude towards submission than bottoming.

Sometimes when bottoming, I want to be entirely passive; to have things done to me with little action on my part. This is “submission” at its most literal, and it’s something that I crave from time to time.

That’s about where it ends though. Many of the things traditionally associated with submissives are things that I’m ambivalent about — and sometimes actively hostile towards (for myself). While I like to help people, and like to do things in service of the greater good, being expected to serve somebody on their whim is something I hate. If I serve you, it is at my discretion, not yours.

slave

I really doubt I could ever do this, or have any desire to do so. Freedom is one of my most important possessions. Losing it, voluntarily or otherwise, is abhorrent to me. (But kudos to those who enjoy and desire this.)

Masochist

Not me. It’s too bad really. I know quite a few and they seem to have a lot of fun — and no shortage of people wanting to play with them. I might pain-play for the experience but it doesn’t turn me on in any physical way.

Switch

I have a bit of a problem with this term as it’s used commonly. Even the most domliest of Dominants has probably, at some point, been a bottom of some sort. Perhaps they’ll enjoy it again in the future, at certain times or with certain people. Perhaps they bottom casually to help out a friend or a demonstration. The same applies for hardcore subs and slaves. Does that make them switches? Doesn’t that apply to everyone?

I see D/s as a spectrum; there’s gradations of top & bottom behaviour. If you’re going to divide it into areas of “Dom”, “Sub”, and “Switch”, make it three equal parts. This leaves plenty of room for a Dominant to occasionally bottom while still being “a Dominant.”

If I had to place myself on this scale (both in terms of behaviour and desired behaviour), I’d be in the Dominant range, within sight of Switch. I think it’s a fine place to be.

Fetishist

This is sort of an umbrella term. I like to apply it to “things” (in contrast to “activities”). Stuff like specific clothing, materials, toys, body parts, etc. Perhaps you could lump specific roleplay scenarios in here too.

None of this really triggers me. I like certain fet-wear for the aesthetic and social aspects, but it’s not a real turn-on. I don’t really get into any particular roleplay. I want toys and items for their practical use; there’s no ritualistic aspect for me. I’m all about the doing.

Gender-Related Issues

I’m pretty much exclusively heterosexual. I have little desire or fantasy to be sexual with other men (NTTAWWT). I’m also not into feminization of any variety. At the same time, I don’t care much for ultra-masculine displays.

Aesthetically and sexually, I’m a fan of femininity. But these days I’m not bothered by masculine sexuality either (after training myself out of being so for a long while). I haven’t met any transgendered folk, but they have my support.

More?

Feel free to ask me anything. You can leave a question here, on Formspring, or anywhere else you can.

I wrote this when discussing non-monogamous relationships with a friend of mine, and thought it was worth sharing:

One of the wisest things I’ve ever heard about poly is that “not right now” does NOT mean “not ever”. That’s not the same as it is with monogamous dating, where “not right now” is basically a brush-off. We all have a lot of things going on in our lives, and we need to dedicate time and energy to ourselves and our current partners. That means that, even if you like someone and would like to play with them, you may not be in a position to do so at the current time. Tomorrow, who knows? And so poly people need to be OK with “not right now”; it’s not reason to necessarily give up hope.

In fact, it’s best not to think in terms of “The ONE”, capital letters. Instead, think “this person, this time, this circumstances: yes or no.”… and then treat each combination independently. So “[Person X], now, intimate relationship” is a no. You can have “[Person X], now, play partner”, maybe “[Person X], later, intimate”, “Person Y, now, play partner”, and “Person Z, later, intimate”. Everything is possible; it’s just a matter of selecting.

It’s definitely a new way of looking at things. We are taught to look for The One Person who will be everything to us forever. It comes from our parents, our community, our law, our religion, and our entertainment. It takes a lot of effort to break this conditioning… to believe that you can have More Than One and have it work out. But I think that it’s truly the path to greater happiness and fulfillment.

So, I may not be a masochist, but I’m definitely going to continue calling myself a switch. For a while I was beginning to wonder.

The past couple of weeks have been difficult ones for me. I felt very distressed and out of control of life. I was in need of some sort of release from my tension — something to break the emotional logjam that I found myself in.

Fortunately, B was more than willing to help me find what I was looking for. Not only is she an experienced bottom, but she also has a good deal of switch to her as well.

We negotiated a few days in advance. She asked for lots of feedback from me: harder, softer, different spot, new toy. I can completely understand that, but at the time I wanted one thing most of all: to be done to, without having to think about it (as much as could be done while still playing safe). I wanted to let go of everything — but B rightfully needed to know how I was handling things. We agreed to compromise as best as we could.

Playtime came. I was definitely in a different mental space than usual. I didn’t want to take any actions. I asked her to undress me first; this is a departure where usually she’s naked, either by my hand or my direction. She thought that this was a bit Dom-like at first, but really it was me just wanting to get into the submissive headspace. She stripped me down, turned me over, and tied my arms and legs to the bed.

It’s amazing how a bit of rope can mean so much. Wearing the rope cuffs feels secure; having them then tied down feels pleasantly restricting. I can describe the reinforcement of the submissive state that it brings me, but there’s something else I feel that’s more nebulous. I really want to explore that further, both as a top and a bottom.

After checking in with me, B started my spanking session. She started off with a slow warmup, knowing that I don’t have the pain tolerance that she does. She asked if I wanted to know what she was using, and I refused, but I recognized the riding crop, wooden spoon, lexan cane, and wooden shoe horn, as well as her bare hands. Each felt different against my skin, but ultimately they came down to one thing: pain.

I generally try to avoid pain. The first time I bottomed with B, I had the option of saying “stop” at any time. I used this as soon as I felt the burning. In my mind, at the time once it started to feel “unpleasant”, there was no point in continuing, so I would ask to stop.

This time was different. I wanted the intense experience. I went in with the intention of not stopping things until it was truly unbearable. I still didn’t know exactly where that was, or how I would react, but I was determined to last longer than before.

I still called out “stop”, but this time B knew to not listen. In addition to “red” as a safeword, we have a number system from one to ten. One means “I barely feel that”; ten means “stop now, scene over.” Nine means “time to stop… but maybe just one more.” (B actually called out a 0.5 after one of my flubbed hits; that immediately earned her a level-eight on the next attempt.)

When she beat me, I would call out “no” and “stop,” expecting and wanting it to continue. It felt good to do so, and I’m not really sure why. I knew full well that I was asking for the pain, and could really stop it at any time — but screaming unheeded negatives still satisfied some sort of inner calling I had.

She took me up the intensity levels one by one. Call out your numbers. When we get to six, then we’ll stop. Are you doing OK? Good, now let’s go to seven. Are you ready to try eight? Time for a break. Now, we’re going to nine. I answered “no” to most of her questions and commands, but we both knew what that meant. Five was pleasant, six was painful, seven hurt a lot, eight was excruciating, and at nine I couldn’t think about anything else.

Sometime around seven was when I started crying.

B talks about how receiving pain lets her be honest. Nobody judges someone who is being beaten that severely, so she can be free to do whatever she needs to in that moment; cry, laugh, scream, swear, beg. Who will criticize you when you’re going through that?

I know what that means now. In the middle of a scene like that you can let go of (almost) all the pretense, expectation, and facade that you carry. And that was something I needed to do.

It’s not an easy thing admitting it. Even past the masculine stereotypes, I don’t like crying or saying that I do. I debated writing about it here. But I want this to be an exploration, and that means peaking into certain places precisely because they are troubling. Once I decide to write, I’m forced to find out what and how, and that can lead me to new things. Like this paragraph, for instance.

When it was over, B asked whether I had enjoyed it, whether I had fun. The best answer I had was “It was what I wanted.” I didn’t like crying; the pain didn’t turn me on. It was not pleasant or happy or anything else normally positive. But I felt much better after than I did before it began. I was relieved. It did what I wanted it to do. And I was very happy for that.

A asks:

I was wondering, if you choose to share, how you had adjusted to L leaving for an overnight trip with Someone Else. If you found a way through that fear – or if you didn’t – and whether it changed things for you, or her, or your marriage. What are you scared of? And, knowing fears are born of dark imaginings and not always evidence, how do you counter it?

A is referring to my post on L’s overnight trip, “On Her Way.”.

First, I do have be a bit of a tease. There are some things related to that event that I won’t discuss, but are very significant. Maybe someday. Not now.

Unfortunately the rest of my explanation is somewhat dependent on the above secret. So you won’t be able to get the full story. But I’ll try to make do.

I wouldn’t quite describe my emotions when I wrote that post as fear, though that was part of the mix. It was more like loss. I felt partly empty as she left. She is what fills me up inside, and when she left to go with Someone Else, I could feel the gap.

The way through it was simply to soldier on. I wrote that post minutes after she left, and it helped a bit. I received some supportive comment from friends, and that helped too. Then I pushed myself into the workday. Distraction might not be a long-term solution, but I don’t know of anything better when I need an immediate effect. I had a great lunch with another friend that day too, and then a chat in the evening with B.

By the end of the day I was feeling bolstered enough that I could get through the toughest parts without too much trepidation: coming home to an empty house, talking to her on the phone while she’s away, and then going to bed alone.

I was reflecting on this today in fact. Having multiple partners of your own implies that they have multiple partners too. Logistically, that means that you run the risk of being without a partner at any given time; schedules get too complex to ensure that you’ll be with partner B when partner A is away. (No alphabetical puns intended.) So, there’s a bit of a paradox: to be successful at having multiple partners, you have to be OK with being alone. Not being bound by exclusivity means that you can expect that of others either, and eventually the stars will align such that you’re on your own.

Fortunately, that’s not a problem for me, so I can manage it — especially if I know it’s temporary. And that’s the other major part of how I worked though her absence: I knew that she was coming back the day after. Gradually, I’ll be able to work up to longer periods of too. We’ve already been separated before for multiple weeks (due to family duties). Being separated due to another person is something I’ll be able to accept — as long as its temporary. If it was permanent, it would be a different story entirely.

Our marriage has been rapidly changing as we walk down this path. This overnight trip was simply one step on it. It wasn’t a revolutionary event — and I’m very glad for that. I don’t want big shocks, as nobody knows what might shake the structure to the ground. Small ones we can handle.

B and I have been playing almost every weekend. It keeps getting better. I’m doing things I’d only dreamed of a few months go.

We had started our relationship focusing mostly on physical S&M play: lots of beating with various implements of impact. This was all well and good; she’s a masochist and has an insatiable craving for spanking. I’m developing my sadistic side so this was much fun for me as well.

But as our knowledge of each other deepened, we started branching out into Dominance & submission play. This is really what envisioned when I thought about living a kinky lifestyle.

As it happens, B is also very much into D/s. In fact, she said that she’d rather play D/s than with straight S&M. This really surprised me when she told me this, since she talks quite frequently, openly, and enthusiastically about receiving her beatings. Her response to submission are much more subdued.

But this is exactly why it’s so powerful: it’s a scary, intimate thing, and not something one can share with just anybody. That’s why it’s intense, and so desirable. Spanking will impact your skin; submission will impact your self.

And so will Dominance. It takes a great deal of control to play in that complex area above moderation and below abuse. I think that this is especially true for us Nice Guys; we’re trained to not be forceful. It takes skill to let that go.

But it’s worth it. It turns me on. And it turns a lot of women on too.

We negotiated a few nights before. We would be in Dominant and submissive mode whenever the collar was on. She’d call me “sir”, and she’d remember her manners. She’d do her part, but it was really up to me to get her into the submissive mindset — which I can understand. We talked about how to do that. I also got some ideas, and dropped some very vague hints about what I was going to do to her. This drove her insane with wonder — which I thoroughly enjoyed of course.

The weekend brought our playtime after much anticipation. I put the collar on her and her demeanor changed. It’s nothing but a piece of leather and metal, but it’s the key to unlocking a powerful force within her. She wants to be submissive, but has a hard time letting herself be; wearing the collar lets her throw off her own restrictions. When it goes on, her eyes go big and round and accepting as she looks up towards me, waiting for my action.

I started slowly, giving her simple instructions for undressing us both. But they were just a means to an end; as soon as she missed following one perfectly, I sized the opportunity to enforce upon her. I grabbed her by the hair and pushed her onto the bed, with as much power as I could summon. She gasped as she felt the intent, and I knew that I was having the effect we both wanted.

When I had her down, I started to play with her. Pinchings, spankings, penetrations of all sorts. Then she started saying “no.” We had talked about this before; “no” is not her safeword. So I kept going, harder and rougher. And then she started resisting — so I started fighting back. I mounted her and pinned her arms down, leaving my hands free to attack her face and breasts. I wrapped my legs around hers, spreading them open to expose her pussy. She tried hard (but not to hard) to cover up, but I had enough strength and position to overcome her. Then I managed to get into a position where I could reach her pussy without letting her hands and legs free. So I did.

She wasn’t panicking, but she was living the scene just enough to be actually trying to stop me from penetrating her. But she couldn’t. It was some distant cousin of rape that we could both allow. And it was incredibly hot. She had a different look in her eyes, a mix of frenzy, arousal, submission, and intimacy. It wasn’t repulsion, but it wasn’t complete enjoyment either. But it was what she wanted, and what I wanted too. I loved the feeling of overpowering her, of imposing myself on her despite herself. But I could still feel it hinge on knowing that she was enjoying our play as well. I need to know that whatever I’m doing is good for both of us. I can’t take pleasure at the expense of someone else.

And I like it that way.

P.S. I almost forgot: not long after this happened, I read an amazing story on this topic called Consensual Nonconsent. It’s like mine, but with the volume turned way up. I’m actually calling it the perfect nonconsent & mind fuck scene. Its very intense, so be careful — but if you’re reading this then you should be able to take it.