Tag: BDSM

A Theory As To The At Least Partial Origin of At Least Some Fetishes

So I have a theory as to the at least partial origin of at least some kinks (I’m not saying this is universally true, or saying there’s anything wrong with this being an origin for a kink, especially as it’s the origin of a lot of my kinks). I thought of it while seeing another leftbook group argue over whether BDSM was inherently reactionary:

So it seems to me that most fetishes are at least partially composed of an anxiety. We already know that sex and fear are linked by their involvement with the sympathetic nervous system, in fact there is an amusing anecdote about WWII fighter pilots having… certain ahem, “Difficulties” upon returning home from the front, and doctors advising their wives to put vacuum cleaners under the bed, so as to mimic the conditions of the cockpit… it apparently worked.

Similarly, as a child I had a very very intense phobia of haircuts. I refused to have my own hair cut and I could not bear to watch others’ hair being cut, I couldn’t even read about it without bursting into tears (incidentally this is why I never saw Mulan as a child) as I got older this anxiety became a fascination and fetish. The thing is, seeing people get their hair cut does still make me deeply anxious, as does getting mine cut… it just also makes me deeply horny.

This, of course, explains most BDSM submissives pretty well, we are afraid of pain, of being helpless and of other such things, and so submissive fantasies are rooted in those anxieties.

But what of dominants? What are they afraid of? Well, I believe it is important to point out that often the most enduring monsters in pop culture and oral tradition are monsters one is at risk of becoming, vampires, werewolves, and zombies to name only a few. We are just as afraid of becoming monsters as we are of being in the monster’s clutches. Though actually, I think one of the reasons there are overall more subs than doms is because “there’s a monster behind that tree” is a more common anxiety than “I am becoming the monster” overall, BUT also heterosexual male doms are more common than other types because they are the most likely to be anxious that their desires are inherently predatory because their desires are the most likely to in fact be predatory.

Additionally, I believe that the desire to be humiliated by being assigned a given trait isn’t always about believing there’s something inherently wrong with being “thing X” so much as it is knowing that being “thing X” is a thing society punishes. Often times these are categories society actually attributes or threatens to attribute to us in one way or another. Existing within a currently stigmatized category is scary, and thus the fetish and sense of humiliation.

And honestly, as someone who inhabits a fair number of “category X”s sometimes hearing the word you live in fear of hearing in a controlled environment is exposure therapy of a kind. I’m not saying fetishes can’t be problematic or are above political scrutiny. I’m not advocating any action at all really, all I’m doing is proposing a model by which some of this bubbles up for us at least some of the time.

I honestly can’t think of one kink I have that isn’t born of an anxiety of some sort, another biggy of mine (bimbofication) comes from anxieties surrounding class and perceived intelligence, along with like having grown up in the “I Am Not A Pretty Girl” “Down with Barbies” era in Western Massachusetts where the “I don’t want to be a stupid girl” rhetoric was in full swing, combined with anxiety over my long history of being willing to do some damned impressively ridiculous stunts in order to get laid by people I thought were hot (including moving to New Jersey and flying to New Zealand… they both worked so… y’ know but still) and like fear of what someone I wanted to bang badly enough could get me to do to myself. Obviously many fetishes have elements of wish fulfillment and so on involved as well, and of course fetishes don’t exist in a vacuum, I just think they’re usually more of a mirror than a projector and what’s under the mirror “in the medicine cabinet” as it were or some forced metaphor like that can be all sorts of things from cotton balls and bandages to a collection of human ears, our motivations for doing things are complex and our sexual desires are rarely a strict 1 to 1 correlation in any direction.

I also think that there are a lot of fetishes born of living in an oppressive society that aren’t necessarily a perpetuation of oppression in and of themselves. In a society where women were never treated badly for being promiscuous the word “slut” probably wouldn’t carry much of an erotic charge for me, but I live in a society that’s pretty shitty to promiscuous women and so I know to be afraid of people calling me that, and fear becomes arousal because human brains are weird and badabingbadaboom I’m masturbating to the thing I’m justifiably frightened of.

Incidentally, I feel like this would be a good time to mention that I once knew a guy who really wanted to bang the Alien Queen from Alien.

But anyway another thing I’ve noticed is a lot of the time anti-BDSM people mention the motivations of the dom, and pro-BDSM people focus on the motivations of the sub, and like I think that leads to problems, because like the power dynamics at play in a BDSM thing are COMPLICATED AS FUCK and the person holding the whip isn’t always the most likely to be the oppressive one, for example, white male cuckolding subs who are obsessed with black guy’s dicks and use slurs to refer to them but claim to be just DESPERATE to submit to a black guy… he’s definitely got the social power, his anxiety is the anxiety of wanting to maintain his social power and privilege and it’s shitty and gross and that is one problematic as hell sub, or for another example dude’s who send dick pics to nonconsenting women in the hopes that they’ll humiliate them. For an example of a top who was in turn not being shitty, was an ex-girlfriend of mine who’d grown up in a homophobic household being told lesbians were predatory and dangerous, which as she was a decent human being who didn’t want to hurt anyone scared her lesbian-y self quite a lot and lead her to worry she was predatory and dangerous which caused her fear of being predatory and dangerous to kick in during sexy times, which lead to thoughts of being predatory and dangerous being associated with sexy times and badabingbadaboom now she likes tying ladies up and the fact that she’s never actually harmed anyone helps her feel sure she’s definitely not actually a monster.

Additionally, roleplaying/depiction/fantasy isn’t inherently advocacy. Sometimes I imagine really terrible shit, sometimes I have trouble getting really terrible shit out of my head, sometimes I write down that terrible shit, or play it out with my partner to get it out of my head. I’m an incredibly guilt-prone person, and although I’m a lifestyle sub, I’m also a nonsexual sadist and I think it’s because I’m incredibly guilt prone. After a lifetime of “what if I stole the cookie and forgot?” and imp of the perverse desire to confess to sins I didn’t commit, there’s actually a sort of relief in spanking the hell out of a sub because it turns out I’m not actually a monster, I stop, I don’t keep going, I don’t harm people. It makes the fantasy less rather than more real in a weird way. Fetishes are often those intrusive “what if I did a really bad thing?” or “What if something really bad happened?” fantasies and of course our ideas of what bad things we might do or have befall us are shaped by our identity and experiences but like in most cases they remain “a really bad thing” even when we’re coming and we don’t need them normalized and cutesified and acceptable, they’d lose their erotic power then, and only when the scary thing ceases to be scary will we get rid of the fetish for the scary thing

So yeah… I think fetishes are often more like that thing where you can’t stop thinking about jumping off when you’re on the edge of a high thing than fantasizing about winning the lottery and buying your dream house.

Incidentally, I think the popularity of the whole CG/lg thing with young women right now has a lot to do with the stagnant economy and lack of ability for the younger generation to move into what we think of as traditional adulthood, so it’s a fear fantasy of “what if I’m forced to remain helpless and dependent forever”

Additionally, no I don’t know why I was scared of haircuts as a kid. I just was.

Masculine Coded Masochism vs. Feminine Coded Masochism

The iconography of sexual submission is sort of… separated into gender coded categories and I think they’re sort of coded like this (this is not to say this accurately reflects individual people’s desires/motivations, but that like the depictions in most bdsm porn are coded this way, and like cultural perceptions about the motivation for this behavior are considered differently based on gender):
Masculine coded masochism/submission is associated with the tradition of courtly love, the willingness to subjugate oneself to the object of one’s desire, to go on the quest, to be enslaved by love. To prove oneself to the desired object. It is about desiring someone so intensely that you act *for* them.

Feminine coded masochism/submission is associated with the desire to be so intensely desired that one is sexually “devoured” by one’s lover. It is about someone wanting you so intensely that they act *upon* you

I want to write a sapphic version of “The Venus In Furs”

I identify so strongly with the way men are characterized in these lines:

“Don’t you know me yet? Yes, I am _cruel_–since you take so much
delight in that word-and am I not entitled to be so? Man is the one
who desires, woman the one who is desired. This is woman’s entire but
decisive advantage. Through his passion nature has given man into
woman’s hands, and the woman who does not know how to make him her
subject, her slave, her toy, and how to betray him with a smile in the
end is not wise.”

“Exactly your principles,” I interrupted angrily.

“They are based on the experience of thousands of years,” she
replied ironically, while her white fingers played over the dark fur.
“The more devoted a woman shows herself, the sooner the man sobers
down and becomes domineering. The more cruelly she treats him and the
more faithless she is, the worse she uses him, the more wantonly she
plays with him, the less pity she shows him, by so much the more will
she increase his desire, be loved, worshipped by him. So it has
always been, since the time of Helen and Delilah, down to Catherine
the Second and Lola Montez.”

Also I Feel That “The Barber’s Tale of his Second Brother” From “The Book Of One Thousand Nights and A Night” Had a Profound Effect On My Sexuality Growing Up

Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that my second brother’s name was Al-Haddar, that is the Babbler, and he was the paralytic. Now it happened to him one day, as he was going about his business, that an old woman accosted him and said, “Stop a little, my good man, that I may tell thee of somewhat which, if it be to thy liking, thou shalt do for me and I will pray Allah to give thee good of it!” My brother stopped and she went on, “I will put thee in the way of a certain thing, so thou not be prodigal of speech.” “On with thy talk,” quoth he; and she, “What sayest thou to handsome quarters and a fair garden with flowing waters, flowers blooming, and fruit growing, and old wine going and a pretty young face whose owner thou mayest embrace from dark till dawn? If thou do whatso I bid thee thou shalt see something greatly to thy advantage.” “And is all this in the world?” asked my brother; and she answered, “Yes, and it shall be thine, so thou be reasonable and leave idle curiosity and many words, and do my bidding.” “I will indeed, O my lady,” said he, “how is it thou hast preferred me in this matter before all men and what is it that so much pleaseth thee in me?” Quoth she, “Did I not bid thee be spare of speech? Hold thy peace and follow me. Know, that the young lady, to whom I shall carry thee, loveth to have her own way and hateth being thwarted and all who gainsay; so, if thou humour her, thou shalt come to thy desire of her.” And my brother said, “I will not cross her in anything.” Then she went on and my brother followed her, an hungering after what she described to him till they entered a fine large house, handsome and choicely furnished, full of eunuchs and servants and showing signs of prosperity from top to bottom. And she was carrying him to the upper story when the people of the house said to him, “What dost thou here?” But the old woman answered them, “Hold your peace and trouble him not: he is a workman and we have occasion for him.” Then she brought him into a fine great pavilion, with a garden in its midst, never eyes saw a fairer; and made him sit upon a handsome couch. He had not sat long, be fore he heard a loud noise and in came a troop of slave girls surrounding a lady like the moon on the night of its fullest. When he saw her, he rose up and made an obeisance to her, whereupon she welcomed him and bade him be seated. So he sat down and she said to him, “Allah advance thee to honour! Is all well with thee?” “O my lady,” he answered, “all with me is right well.” Then she bade bring in food, and they set before her delicate viands; so she sat down to eat, making a show of affection to my brother and jesting with him, though all the while she could not refrain from laughing; but as often as he looked at her, she signed towards her handmaidens as though she were laughing at them. My brother (the ass!) understood nothing; but, in the excess of his ridiculous passion, he fancied that the lady was in love with him and that she would soon grant him his desire. When they had done eating, they set on the wine and there came in ten maidens like moons, with lutes ready strung in their hands, and fell to singing with full voices, sweet and sad, whereupon delight gat hold upon him and he took the cup from the lady’s hands and drank it standing. Then she drank a cup of wine and my brother (still standing) said to her “Health,” and bowed to her. She handed him another cup and he drank it off, when

she slapped him hard on the nape of his neck.

Upon this my brother would have gone out of the house in anger; but the old woman followed him and winked to him to return. So he came back and the lady bade him sit and he sat down without a word. Then she again slapped him on the nape of his neck; and the second slapping did not suffice her, she must needs make all her handmaidens also slap and cuff him, while he kept saying to the old woman, “I never saw aught nicer than this.” She on her side ceased not exclaiming, “Enough, enough, I conjure thee, O my mistress!”; but the women slapped him till he well nigh swooned away. Presently my brother rose and went out to obey a call of nature, but the old woman overtook him, and said, “Be patient a little and thou shalt win to thy wish.” “How much longer have I to wait,” my brother replied, “this slapping hath made me feel faint.” “As soon as she is warm with wine,” answered she, “thou shalt have thy desire.” So he returned to his place and sat down, where upon all the handmaidens stood up and the lady bade them perfume him with pastiles and besprinkle his face with rose-water. Then said she to him, “Allah advance thee to honour! Thou hast entered my house and hast borne with my conditions, for whoso thwarteth me I turn him away, and whoso is patient hath his desire.” “O mistress mine,” said he, “I am thy slave and in the hollow of thine hand!” “Know, then,” continued she, “that Allah hath made me passionately fond of frolic; and whoso falleth in with my humour cometh by whatso he wisheth.” Then she ordered her maidens to sing with loud voices till the whole company was delighted; after which she said to one of them, “Take thy lord, and do what is needful for him and bring him back to me forthright.” So the damsel took my brother (and he not knowing what she would do with him); but the old woman overtook him and said, “Be patient; there remaineth but little to do.” At this his face brightened and he stood up before the lady while the old woman kept saying, “Be patient; thou wilt now at once win to thy wish!”; till he said, “Tell me what she would have the maiden do with me?” “Nothing but good,” replied she, “as I am thy sacrifice! She wisheth only to dye thy eyebrows and pluck out thy mustachios.” Quoth he, “As for the dyeing of my eye brows, that will come off with washing, but for the plucking out of my mustachios, that indeed is a somewhat painful process.” “Be cautious how thou cross her,” cried the old woman; “for she hath set her heart on thee.” So my brother patiently suffered her to dye his eyebrows and pluck out his mustachios, after which the maiden returned to her mistress and told her. Quoth she “Remaineth now only one other thing to be done; thou must shave his beard and make him a smooth o’ face.”

So the maiden went back and told him what her mistress had bidden her do; and my brother (the blockhead!) said to her, “How shall I do what will disgrace me before the folk?” But the old woman said, “She would do on this wise only that thou mayst be as a beardless youth and that no hair be left on thy face to scratch and prick her delicate cheeks; for indeed she is passionately in love with thee. So be patient and thou shalt attain thine object.” My brother was patient and did her bidding and let shave off his beard and, when he was brought back to the lady, lo! he appeared dyed red as to his eyebrows, plucked of both mustachios, shorn of his beard, rouged on both cheeks. At first she was affrighted at him; then she made mockery of him and, laughing till she fell upon her back, said, “O my lord, thou hast indeed won my heart by thy good nature!” Then she conjured him, by her life, to stand up and dance, and he arose, and capered about, and there was not a cushion in the house but she threw it at his head, and in like manner did all her women who also kept pelting him with oranges and lemons and citrons till he fell down senseless from the cuffing on the nape of the neck, the pillowing and the fruit pelting. “Now thou hast attained thy wish,” said the old woman when he came round; “there are no more blows in store for thee and there remaineth but one little thing to do. It is her wont, when she is in her cups, to let no one have her until she put off her dress and trousers and remain stark naked.

Then she will bid thee doff thy clothes and run; and she will run before thee as if she were flying from thee; and do thou follow her from place to place till thy prickle stands at fullest point, when she will yield to thee;” adding, “Strip off thy clothes at once.” So he rose, well nigh lost in ecstasy and, doffing his raiment, showed himself mother naked.——And Shahrázád perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Thirty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman said to the Barber’s second brother, “Doff thy clothes,” he rose, well nigh lost in ecstasy; and, stripping off his raiment, showed himself mother naked. Whereupon the lady stripped also and said to my brother, “If thou want anything run after me till thou catch me.” Then she set out at a run and he ran after her while she rushed into room after room and rushed out of room after room, my brother scampering after her in a rage of desire like a veritable madman, with yard standing terribly tall. After much of this kind she dashed into a darkened place, and he dashed after her; but suddenly he trod upon a yielding spot, which gave way under his weight; and, before he was aware where he was, he found himself in the midst of a crowded market, part of the bazaar of the leather sellers who were crying the prices of skins and hides and buying and selling. When they saw him in his plight, naked, with standing yard, shorn of beard and mustachios, with eyebrows dyed red, and cheeks ruddied with rouge, they shouted and clapped their hands at him, and set to flogging him with skins upon his bare body till a swoon came over him. Then they threw him on the back of an ass and carried him to the Chief of Police. Quoth the Chief, “What is this?” Quoth they, “This fellow fell suddenly upon us out of the Wazir’s house6 in this state.” So the Prefect gave him an hundred lashes and then banished him from Baghdad. However I went out after him and brought him back secretly into the city and made him a daily allowance for his living: although, were it not for my generous humour, I could not have put up with the like of him.