Okay, so this is something lots of people are talking about all over and S&M seems to be the new normal…
Except to me it always was and always will be weird….
I saw that movie Zero Dark Thirty awhile back and I got really angry during the torture scenes. I mean, like I felt like walking out of the theater, yelling,screaming and punching…
To use a word feminists use, it was “triggering.”
My mommy, a feminist, slapped me around when I was a youngster. I’ve been in a few fights growing up. Being hit isn’t sexy. Being hit doesn’t give me a boner. And, you know what, hitting is almost as terrifying as being hit. Fuck you to all those feminists and M(h)RA’s who would simply throw me in the “abuser” box simply by being a low status male–then throw me in the “prude” box because I don’t like S&M.
I went to a “sex party” one time. A larger woman, or as they are now commonly referred to as BBW’s, was walking around half naked. She handed someone a flooger. They hit her, she made a sound like she was being fucked. They hit her again, she screamed in pain, then said “Harder.” I was feeling really nervous. The flogger was being passed around and was passed to me. I half assedly flogged her. She said, “You hit like a girl, C’mon, give it to me good, stud.”
I just gave the flogger to the next person and walked out of the room. I felt a bit sick to my stomach. It took me a little while to figure out why I felt that way. It was the same feeling I would feel when I saw a pet owner scream and hit their puppy for a minor infraction. It was the same feeling when I saw a parent slap and humiliate their child for a minor infraction. It was Shame. Why did I feel this? Call me a white knight, but there was one part of my brain, one part of my soul telling me that I needed to step in and say what was happening was wrong. I was supposed to yell, “Hey, tough guy/tough girl, there you go hitting a kid or a puppy to show whose boss. Why don’t you try that shit on me? We both know it ain’t gonna end so good for you.” And, what did I do, I kept my head down and walked the other way. Stay out of the affairs of strangers another part of my brain told me. And I did. And my stomach felt sick. And my soul felt tired.
Yet, I’m “supposed” to listen to “men” like David Futrelle who think I should be “sex positive” and pay a dominatrix to humiliate me. But in his view I’d be an oppressive misogynist if I paid a conventionally attractive woman for penis in vagina sex, no hitting and maybe a massage. What kind of fucking world are we living in?