Submission is Not Passive

"Submit" is an action verb.

Well, duh, Paradox, you might say. Of course it's an action verb. That's just basic grammar.

You would be right, but I mean it in a deeper sense than that.

For a long time, I felt a little guilty when I had long sessions with lovers where I was being submissive to them, where they were doing hurty or bondagey or sexy things to me and being in control of what was happening. I felt like the burden of creativity, of action, was on them and that it was somehow unfair. That I was simply taking what they gave me without contributing that much, since I was going along with what they thought up and told me to do.

I've realized it's more complicated than that. And better than that, really.

When I'm playing with a top (or dom or whatever) who likes what he* is doing, he's getting something out of it too. I'm giving him my reactions and my permission and contributing my energy to the scene. Depending on our dynamic, I'm giving him my obedience. I'm using my strength to hold uncomfortable positions or to accept whatever pain he gives me. I'm giving him a release that he probably craves on his own, access to my body and to an activity that he wants. I'm exciting him. It is, as I say on my Fetlife profile, a gift.

To submit is an act of will. It's an active choice, one that I continue to make throughout a scene. There's a saying in improv of all kinds: Say yes to your partner. And it applies in kink (and sex for that matter) because if I'm not saying yes, we can't do anything. If he's trying to feed me and I don't open my mouth, that's the end. If he's trying to hit me and I run away, that's the end. If I use my safeword at any time, that's the end. And when it goes well, when it's hot and exciting and satisfying, it's because we created that together.

Which is so, so much fun.

*I use male pronouns since I tend towards heterosexuality in my kink life. I play with women sometimes, but not nearly as often. But this could all apply to dominant types of any gender.

What is Sex?

I just realized (again) that I've never talked about what sex is on this blog.

I write about sex all the fucking time, and yet I've never really defined what it is that I'm writing about. I mean, sure, there's a common definition of what counts as sex. I've encountered it, and I think it's really stupid.

See, most people seem to think that the only thing that's "really" sex is some kind of penetrative (enveloping?) intercourse. Vaginal, anal. With a man's (bio) cock. That's it. Everything else is just "foreplay" or "after play" and what's important is the "play" part that only includes fucking.

But, um, I really think that cock sucking is sex. And pussy licking. And finger fucking. And fisting. And using anal beads. Hand jobs in the back of a movie theater. Fucking someone with my dildo. Fingers on my clit through my panties. A mouth on my nipples and really hot, long makeout sessions, too.

The way I see it, if I could have an orgasm from it, or my partner could have an orgasm from it, it definitely counts as sex. If I'm thinking about it for days afterwards, if I could fantasize about it while I masturbate, that's probably sex, too. The things that matter to me are the feelings, the kind of connection I'm experiencing, not some technicality of what body part entered where.

The problem with only considering Penis-In-Whatever intercourse to be sex is that it excludes a whole range of very pleasurable and definitely sexual activities from what we think "counts." I've written before about how the definition of sex as intercourse excludes the activities that make a majority of women have an orgasm. Like, you know, touching the clitoris at all. There's also the fact that lesbians are pretty much unable to have sex under this model. Which is just silly.

The number of people I've actually fucked is definitely lower than the number of people I've considered sex partners. Especially given the women on my list. But I'd rather honor the experiences I've had, honor the partners I've shared my time and my body with, and be that much more of a slut. Because I'm proud of my history, and all the kinds of sex I've had with all kinds of people!

Two Caveats to My Post on Sluthood

**While I'm having sex, I still don't want to hear the word slut directed at me in a way that's connected with shame. Or any other sex negative phrase for that matter, like cock tease or prude (ha, like anyone would call me that). Not only am I not ashamed of what I do sexually, I'm not at all turned on by shame. So trying to invoke that emotion is just kind of weird and jarring and pulls me out of teh sexiness, which I'd rather stay immersed in, thanks.

Tell me I'm such a good slut and so good at sex. Yes, I love to hear that. Please praise me for my sexuality. That turns me on. But don't go to the "you like this so much, don't you, slut?" thing or the "I bet you make all the boys crazy, you tease" thing or the "I'm going to fuck you like a ragdoll, cuz you're a fucktoy for my use" thing. Not my bag.


**I get tested often for sexually transmitted infections and am careful with barrier methods of protection for the sex I have. (Condoms, condoms, condoms! And gloves.) I also have an IUD to prevent pregnancy. Having lots of sexual partners does increase my risk for transmission of disease and unplanned pregnancy, and would increase those risks for anyone on my path. I'm all about sluthood, but it's also important to protect your health. Resources for good ways to protect yourself: Scarleteen and Planned Parenthood.

Rethinking "Slut"

I've written a lot about sluthood before, and about how I had trouble reclaiming that word because of my personal history with it. When I was first called a slut, it was not at all cute or kind. Even though I was fine with the sex I'd been having, the shame behind the word got to me when my closest friends used it against me. It's taken me a long time to heal from that.

But heal I think I have. The more beautiful sex I've had with more people, the easier it's gotten to gladly think of myself as a slut. An ethical one. A happy one. And one who is proud of her sex life and sexual history.

Jaclyn Friedman, editor of the book and contributor to the blog Yes Means Yes, just wrote a lovely piece about what sluthood has done for her. One of the best quotes from the piece is this:

Sluthood...reminds me to enjoy the life I have now, instead of waiting for someone to come start it. It helps me know my heart better, and my libido. It makes me better at communicating about both of them, and much less likely to confuse the two. To my mind, far from ruining me for real love, sluthood is preparing me for it...

...Sluthood isn’t just a choice we should let women make because women should be free to make even “bad” choices. It’s a choice we should all have access to because it has the potential to be liberating. Healing. Soul-fulfilling. I’m telling you this because sluthood saved me, in a small but life-altering way, and I want it to be available to you if you ever think it could save you, too. Or if you want it for any other reason at all.

I've made so many great connections, had so many fun and interesting experiences, and learned so very much that I wouldn't have if I weren't happy to jump into sex with new, interesting people. There have been a few bad experiences, mostly because of somebody deceiving me or treating me disrespectfully, but that could have happened even if I was trying to have a relationship with them. In fact, usually the reason they were being deceiving and disrespectful was that they assumed I wanted a relationship and that's what they had to do to get me into bed. Dummies.

I've also made great friendships and found really wonderful relationships. My promiscuity has never stopped me from finding love, just the opposite. My life has been filled with love, all kinds of love, from great friendship to a four-year commitment with a man I'm still close to. And so much in between. I wouldn't trade that for the world.

So I'm done hiding from a word that should just mean "someone who has a lot of sex with a lot of people." If that's the literal definition of a slut, well, that's what I am. And there's not a single reason to be sorry for that.

So here's my shouting from the mountain: I'm 23 years old (on Saturday!), I've had 64 sexual partners*, and I'm proud of it. I am a good slut, and happy to be one.


*This is based on my definition of "sex," which holy crap I've never written about here! I will fix that immediately.

Online Dating

I've been using internet dating sites in one form or another since I was sixteen. I started with the teen quiz and meet-people site eSpin.com known at the time as eSpinTheBottle. When I used it, you'd click on a picture of a bottle and it'd pop out a random teen near you. I gave blow jobs to one boy who went to high school in the next town over and (unbeknownst to me) had an identical twin brother who I later ran into. Now THAT'S an awkward story for another time.

I've used AdultFriendFinder, I've used eHarmony (long ago and very briefly), I've used Craigslist. When I went to school in Rochester, I posted an ad in casual encounters in the women-seeking-men section. All women's ads were flagged for some reason, so the ad was only up for about 45 minutes. I received 150 replies. Out of those, I met one guy with whom I had lovely sex and spankings. The variety of emails I got were mostly hilarious and the endeavor was worth my time even just for the lolz.

These days I highly favor OKCupid, the entirely free, a little bit nerdy, and very well-done dating site. It's inclusive of queer sexualities and open relationships, which is a huge plus in my book. (The next step is gender inclusivity...hint, hint, nudge, nudge.) Also, there are lots of hot people in my age range on there, which helps.

In this age where we do so much on the internet: social networking, sharing pictures, chatting with friends, everything, it kind of makes sense to date online. I much prefer it to picking people up in bars or clubs. (Although the whole friend of a friend at a party/dinner/whatever thing still can't be beat; they're pre-approved!).

I like the fact that we all get to have a profile, so there's something more than physical appearance upon which a first contact is based. In a bar, I know for sure that someone's only approaching me because I look hot. If they're writing me a message and engaging with something I've written about myself, starting a conversation that's relevant to me, I know they're interested in more than my appearance. And if the message is just about how I look ("hey, ur gorgeous, wanna chat?") then I can ignore it without worrying that I'll be harassed or insulted for turning the person down. If someone is a douche online, I can just block them. It makes the weed-out process so much easier.

I think most people who use online dating feel similarly; it's all in the approach. If you're an online dater and want to send successful first messages, it can seem like mastering a delicate art. (Sadly, the burden of approach online is on men just as much as in real life, which I of course fly in the face of, ha!) I think it actually comes down to the same principles that apply to all approaches: be polite, engage with the person's profile and stated interests (in real life, engage with someone's humanity not just their body), and ask questions that can start a conversation.

For really good tips and info on online dating, and on human relationships in general, check out OKCupid's blog OkTrends. The very nerdy-cool people behind the site like to sit around and aggregate all the data from the site they've got at their fingertips. They've come out with some really fun and interesting info on how people date and what's most effective in terms of first messages and profile pictures. It's a very, very fascinating body of work.

Good TED Talk by Cindy Gallop

Via Betty Dodson and Carlin Ross I really like this quick video from Cindy Gallop, creator of Make Love Not Porn (which I wrote about before here). I've certainly had similar experiences to the one she describes, and my entire honors thesis was about how porn is a huge part of young people's sex education. I've written before about Gallop's site, but I thought this video was a nice summary of the reasoning behind it.

Hot Kinky Porn

I've been fantasizing about BDSM since well before puberty. I remember having weird day dreams about those silly old movie scenarios where a woman is tied in rope from neck to toe and strapped to a railroad track. (If you're even a little kinky, you surely remember what I'm talking about.) I think I was about six.

It comes in and out of my fantasy life, but lately there's usually been some element of power exchange in my masturbation fantasies. I don't tend to make complicated narratives for myself, but I do imagine being held or tied down, or some of the physical sensations I associate with domination. It seems the more I actually engage with that part of my sexuality, the more engaging it becomes. As I experiment in real life with kinky sex, my fantasy life follows.

Therefore, the porn I want to watch recently has pretty much been kinky porn. And the best place to find that is of course Kink.com. I wrote about this conglomerate of hot BDSM porn sites in my thesis for their progressive guidelines about consent and depictions of negotiations and all kinds of other good stuff. What I didn't write about is that it's all damn hot.

Want proof? Check out this shoot where a cute newbie gets tied up and surprises her top with her enthusiasm. There's more! In this one, a woman gets bound and roughly handled by two "strangers." I really liked the way she seemed totally absorbed in what was going on; that's the kind of sex I like! Finally, this shoot has great chemistry between all three performers and some hot bondage action.

I just got an affiliate account set up with them, so you can expect regular posts so I can share with you the hot clips I find. I, for one, am very excited about this and I hope some of you are too!