Nov 112009
 

“This isn’t all about you. It isn’t some fantasy, none of that safeword bullshit. It is all about me, right now, and for your foreseeable future. So scream all you want. I don’t give a fuck. No one does.

This strange dark slippery sentiment crept into my head yesterday. Sitting at work combing through the millions of profiles trying to find the ones that would help me do my job, I had a full-fledged fantasy detonate in the forebrain.

And I did. Not. Like it.

This wasn’t some hot sexy thing. It was Bad. It wasn’t consensual. It wasn’t safe, it was quite insane and it was beyond risky. There was no care, no love, no desire, no safety.

This was worst-case scenario. Real fear. Real damage. Real rage. Emotional snuff. Physical destruction.

And it repulsed me even at the same time I wanted it so badly I became dizzy.

So I took a stroll to the cafeteria. Purchased lunch. Grabbed a diet coke, cane back and clicked on LOL cats and Fuck You, Penguin. Read a few posts on Snacks And Shit to lighten the mood. Watched a few 5 Second Films.

Took a deep breath, and turned back to observe that smoking burning painful Thing now sitting in my head, winking at me.

What is that?

What is that real and for true desire to be destroyed?

Rarely have I felt it with the specificity and clarity as I did just at that moment.

It is hard, already, for me to talk about some of the darker play that I have done, and will probably do again. I still struggle mightily with talking about fucked-up stuff, consenting non-consensual play, racial and cultural taboos, all of that.  But this went further.

Sure, on paper I’m OK with it. For fuck’s sake, I kind of have to be, right? Writing a book on it, teaching all over the country about how it is OK to pursue your kink, you aren’t a freak for wanting to be fulfilled in your BDSM.

But that vulnerability comes with a price-tag that would raise your eyebrows. I’ve lost friends and social networks have been denied to me because I have chosen to be open about my desires. And despite what you see when you look at me, despite what you read when you click to my blog, despite the prolific and chaotic microblogging, there is so much I won’t ever, ever tell you.

Because it is too much. Sometimes too much even for me.

The problem is, I want it. Not only do I want it, I have the means to get it.

It is one thing to say “Ooo, I have this fantasy of {REDACTED} with a bunch of {REDACTED} and their {REDACTED} where they would {REDACTED} me for, say, an entire weekend while their {REDACTED} are completely free to {REDACTED} and I can’t {REDACTED} until I {REDACTED}”

…and it is another thing to have the capacity to send a few emails…make a few phone calls…and have it.

Knowing what you want is a powerful gift.

Getting what you want is the darkest gift of all.

And I feel I’ve been dragged one step closer to that precipice.

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  6 Responses to “Hello, Nightmare!”

  1. I understand completely, although I lack your means of attaining the fantasy.

    I was on Jezebel today, and watched the trailer for The Killer in Me, and I know I was supposed to be as horrified and upset as those ladies. But I wasn’t. I was turned on.

    http://jezebel.com/5401274/the-killer-inside-me-sex-death–sadism

    • ZOMG world’s longest “trailer!!!”


      Well, actually that is likely the teaser reel for distributor viewing…not a theatrical trailer.

      But I digress.

      I had a similar reaction to “Irréversible” when I first heard about it…though I haven’t watched the entire flick, I did find a clip of the notorious rape scene. Sickening, horrible, graphic, disturbing, and, up to a certain point, horribly arousing. Then it pushed beyond even my comfort level…and “Voilà…fin.”

      I think, to a certain extent, there will always be something we find fascinating that also repulses.

      xoxo

      Mo

  2. Thanks for tackling the subject of dark, dark fantasies. I think many of us have them but won’t admit it. I usually tuck mine away in the back of my mind when they surface… although a few I’ve been brave enough to admit to my Dom. And I hate to admit that I think it’s hot for him to force me to do things I find repulsive.
    .-= Nadia West´s most recent blog moment of Zen on the net was…Coming and Caning =-.

    • There is so much at stake when we share the Really Bad Things with peolpe we love and respect. Te fear that we will finally have hit on the DEAL BREAKING EVIL is there, as well as the fear of rejection, and abandonment.

      Sometimes I challenge myself to tell Just One Person about these bits and pieces, to see how it feels. And, thus far, I’ve been good at selecting my confessors ;-)

      Thank you for reading and for sharing!

      Peace.

      ~Mo

  3. It truly is the dark desires that I face down, that I am most proud. Oh sure, I have had LOTS of play. I have had lots of dangerous, extremely painful and scary things happen that I could “safeword” out of. It is those times that I invited “Daddy” into my life on a permanent basis when “Hitting” was the last thing on his mind. It is those times that when She looked me in the eyes and saw someone that didn’t measure up for being black, She wasn’t doing it for effect. I need these things in my life if I am really going to live a life without fear. believe it, for all of us, it could have gone a whole other direction. I say, good for you for not only facing them down, but for knowing that they need to be addressed ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.

    • Hey Lady!

      It is for real certain that I grow the most in those places where the pruning shears have cut the deepest. I don’t usually go seeking out really fucked up shit, it organically creeps in. It feels different to look TOWARDS something damaging and want it than to have something come up suddenly and cope with it. Difference between encountering a big cat in the bush in the dark and climbing into the lion enclosure, yanno?

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