Kink In Exile

This is inspired by an image on Male Submission Art.

I want him in his expensively tailored suit; crisp white shirt starched to perfection by a nameless maid, tie expertly selected.  I want him on his knees in the middle of a Manhattan living room, New York skyline seen through the picture window. I want to take him apart piece by piece. Cold steal slicing through cashmere and silk, nails slicing through skin, tie tightening around throat until he strains to breathe. I want to hear the smack of my gloved hand against his cheek before I walk away, leaving him for the maid to find. Her name is Julia.

I’ve been abandoning this blog lately, and while I feel like have some darn good excuses there really is no excuse.  Here are some attempts:

1) I’m getting published.  More on this when I have books in hand, but my life has been eaten up by editors and co-contributors.

2) I’m moving (knock on wood that my current place gets rented).  I’m moving to roughly between Stormy Leather and Mr. S.

3) I have some amazing people in my life and I have been making an effort to have sex.  There being only so many hours in a day it is sometimes a choice between having sex and writing about it.

4) I am looking for meaningful work, which means a lot of my writing energy has gone to writing personal statements and the dreaded statement of purpose.

5) Nope, that’s all the exuses I have.  I’m just lazy.  But you should check out Polyamorous Misanthrope for some rad poly and dating advice; that’s what I’ve been reading.

I was talking to a friend this afternoon about the fact that there are aspects of pro-domming that I miss a great deal. Some of them are specifically about the business, but others are more personal. They are about how the business lets me explore my own kinks. The party line seems to be that there is no getting off at work. Clients are clients, lovers are lovers, and never the two shall meet. And in general I would advocate a healthy distinction between one’s personal and professional self no matter what one’s profession may be. Sex-workers and people doing emotional labor in particular benefit from well defined boundaries. However, some aspects of sex work are deeply personal, and intrinsically fetishistic.

I like being an unapologetic whore. Ok, read a little deeper: this is not just about being unapologetic about an industry or a career path, this is about being unapologetic about a behavior that is labeled as wrong not just in society in general, but also in kinky circles. I like being a demanding bitch, a spoiled little girl, a princess. Pro-domming gave me a context where I could – and was expected to – demand tributes. This isn’t limited to my hourly fee. My hourly fee is in fact beyond the point – that’s just the business part. The personal part is where I demand chocolate. Where I demand that you find time in your busy day to go to the candy store I like, find parking, stand in line, to get my a chocolate dipped slice of dried pear. I can send you on a wild goose chase on a whim and you love it.

I like the part too where you bring with you the tools of your undoing. Gift me with that whip that you’re scared to be hit with. Send me those shoes that get you hard just thinking about them on my feet even though you know I won’t let you cum.

These are the desires frowned upon by the larger BDSM community. Asking for stuff makes me a whore, or it takes advantage of submissive men. But in truth actual whoring does little to fulfill my prostitution fantasy. I want to join these worlds. I want fantasy prostitution and heartfelt tributes. I don’t want you to pay my rent; I can pay my own rent. I want you to bring me something that symbolizes your submission in your mind as well as mine. I want something that is tangible and takes effort.

[And between us girls, your tears are tangible, and obedience takes effort.]

Here is a random sound bite I thought was odd…I know someone who believes that when you legalize prostitution it lowers the value of women in society. I don’t know where to begin with this one. The first thing that is assumed in that statement is that women’s value in society is linked to their willingness or lack there of to have sex. The second is that women’s value is linked to their virtue – laws against prostitution protect women’s virtue thereby making women more valuable. This is about where I have to try really hard not to say “wait, I’m not cattle.”

Why do we have laws against prostitution?

Because prostitution hurts women, spreads diseases, and fosters organized crime? Not if you make it legal. Not if you give prostitutes the same legal protections enjoyed by their fellow citizens. Not if you unionize it, organize it, and control it through some kinds of safety guidelines like you do construction and food handling (occupations that can, if done improperly, hurt provider and client). Because prostitution is a violation of Judeo-Christian morals? Because anti-prostitution laws give the government another measure of control over women’s sexuality?

Honestly, I think this issue has too many layers to delve into right now, but it was eating away at me, so I give it to you.  Aren’t I sweet