Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Fucking With the Fourth Wall

Ask Dr. NerdLove: How Do I Tell My Boyfriend He Scares Me?

"You should tell him that some of the things he’s said hurt you and explain why and how. Even when you’re both doing a scene and he’s in his role, he’s still him and once you’ve let him know that he’s been hurting you and how, he’ll understand where the line is and know not to cross it again."

So much of kink is all about maintaining the magic. It's essentially somewhere between a crazy game of adult make-believe and a very private (or sometimes not-so-private) theatre production. And breaking a scene's fourth wall can feel so awkward and weird.

It's why so much of negotiation happens—and should happen—before the scene ever starts. Scenes flow so much better when the people on both sides—top and bottom, Dom and sub—know what's going to happen and are on the same page. When they know where the boundaries lie. What's acceptable and what's not.

But the crux of successful kink is all about the delicate balance between Safe, Sane, and Consensual and the sexiness of spontaneity. There are few things more exciting than not quite knowing what's going to happen next. Truly successful kink—like truly successful sex in general—always holds a little mystery. It allows you to explore the possibility of pushing boundaries—of testing limits and, yes, of the tantalizing threat of perhaps going a bit too far—without ever crossing established lines. Speaking as a bottom, you always want to feel a little unsettled, a little spun and overwhelmed, while also never—not even for a moment—feeling unsafe.

It's an impossible ask and a bit of a miracle every time it happens.

So how do you do it? How do you walk that fine edge without ever falling off?

Like I said, most of this should be covered by upfront and comprehensive negotiations before any clothes come off or any toys get brought out. Every set of partners should go through what things are a definite yes, what's an unquestionable no, and what are the places that are more flexible territory. 

And one should never assume anything during this point. Just because someone likes flogging doesn't mean they'll necessarily like whipping. Spanking on the butt may be a must, but the thighs may be a no-go. A Dom(me) may like to be called Mommy or Daddy, but may not be into baby talk. They may be an expert at ropes and bondage, but may never have even held a crop before. 

Even if everything may not line up to yours as perfectly as you'd like, you always want to know where your partners' strengths, weaknesses, desires, and boundaries lie. Before any scene starts.

But even the most thorough negotiations never quite cover everything. Surprises during scenes are an inevitability. Not that they'll happen in every scene, rather if you play often enough with enough of a variety of people, you will run across surprises. Both your partners' and your own. Like with the letter-writer, it may be a phrase that triggers you or rubs you the wrong way. It may be a new toy you're not fan of. Or a technique or style that doesn't work well for you.

Surprises and changes may even happen with partners you’ve known for a long time. We are incredibly dynamic creatures. What worked one day may not work the same forever. It’s why, in addition to upfront and comprehensive negotiations, kinksters have so many ways to check-in in-scene. 

We have safewords and the stoplight system which slow down or stop scenes that may go too far. But what people often forget is that they also encourage partners. Like with the appearance of condoms in porn and erotica, seeing the stoplight system in stories and movies really helps normalize it. Showing that checking-in can be—and should be—thought of as sexy. 

Does hearing “red” and “yellow” kind of suck mid-scene? Sure. But how awesome is hearing “green?” To hear and know definitively that what’s happening—what’s turning you on—is also turning on your partner? Plus, if you're constantly talking to your partner, actively getting their input, you can feel a little more free to try new things or switch things up or push boundaries a little more in-scene, because you're getting the feedback you need when you need it. People should want to be checking-in regularly. Good partners want to know that what they’re doing is pleasurable and awesome.

But what about the times when things aren’t so awesome? We hear so much about the importance of safewords and check-ins, but what we don’t hear about as often is what to do when they happen. We rarely see that aspect in porn. We rarely even see it in real life. So, when you’re in the uncomfortable position of wanting to call a safeword, often it can feel like strange and unfamiliar territory. So much so that, like the letter-writer, you just stay quiet in the moment and are left feeling terribly conflicted about it. And, what’s worse, your partner has no idea that they’ve triggered something in you; they think you both had a fantastic time. And people, quite rightly, like to repeat fantastic times.

So we’ve got to get better about talking about this.

As a bottom, I know that one of the hardest parts about calling a safeword is wondering what happens after you do. Does the scene just stop? Do we have to have this huge, long discussion dissecting everything about the scene? About kink in general? About our relationship? Our trust levels? Will this scene that was supposed to be sexy, fun times suddenly turn into an emotional therapy session?

Yeah—just being honest—there are few things I wouldn’t choose over that. Because, unless you’ve crossed a BIG boundary—something that calls for the scene to stop right now—whatever you did probably isn’t worth making a huge fuss about. That doesn’t mean I like it or want to make it a regular routine in the sexual playbook or anything; I just don’t want my objection to be blown out of proportion or to put a hiccup in the scene’s rhythm. Because I may be done with whatever it is you’re doing, but I may not be done with you and the scene quite yet.

So what's a kinkster to do in this moment? 

This is why, of all the safeword systems, I like the stoplight one the best. Personally, I like using plain speak, just keeping open communication going throughout the scene. If the toy you’re using is getting to be too intense, I’m going to tell you that it was awesome but it’s time to move on to a new one. Or if my arm is getting tired from using a toy, I’m going to grab a new one from the bag. Or if you use a name or title that I don’t prefer, I will let you know. But, then again, I don’t do much role play, so my fourth wall is pretty thin to begin with.

Plus, I know that isn’t always the easiest thing for everyone to do. Even for me, sometimes something rubs me the wrong way and I don’t know why, so it’s hard to articulate it. And it is infinitely easier to have a set word like “yellow” that essentially means “I want the scene to continue, just not in the direction it’s going.”

Even as a top, “yellow” is incredibly useful. It may not give you all the information you need—which is why I generally prefer plain speak most of the time—but it does give you important information. It lets you know that something you’re doing isn’t working the way you’d hoped it would. So what do you do with that information? 

Start talking back.

But I would recommend not asking “What’s wrong?” Because, chances are good, they don’t know or can’t articulate that at the moment. And, to be fair, in-scene, you’re probably not in the best mindset to take that in at the moment either. 

So instead ask them “Are you sure you want to keep going?” and, if they say yes, file that need-to-have conversation about what went wrong as something for later. Then start offering up suggestions. 

“I’m going to give you a choice, you can stay like this or I can move you into a new position.” 

“I can continue with this toy or I can switch to a new one.” 

“We can take a breather break or we can keep going.” 

Put yourself in your bottom’s point of view and try to think about what might need some adjustment. Because, when your brain’s flooded with endorphins and emotions and sensations, you’re going to respond better to multiple choice than to something so open-ended.

Open-ended discussions are something best left for when a scene is done. For tops, one of the hardest things about hearing the safeword in-scene is the fear that you’ve just done something horribly wrong. Despite what it often looks like from the outside, I have never met a top that actually wants to harm their bottom. Cause discomfort? Sure. Cause pain? Hecks yeah. Scare the shit out of them? Sounds fun. But harm? Never. Every top I know—and I know some great tops—always wants their partners to come out of a scene feeling amazing. They want their partners to have had such a good time that they can’t wait to do it all over again.

So, yeah, the thought that something they did left someone feeling hurt or damaged afterward…for most tops I know, that’s up there on their lists of worst fears. Because, for tops, that’s the mental battle that they have to fight to get to self-acceptance. To see the way the world sees them—as sadistic monsters who feed on people’s pain—and worry that it feels both insanely far and far too close to the truth. And, in these moments, it can feel like that battle to be better than what the world thinks you are—and what you fear you may be—is lost.

So, yeah, as a bottom, I completely understand the letter-writer’s reaction. Her worry that her partner will take her objection in the wrong way. Will take it as an indictment of him and his desires rather than just another normal part of negotiations.

But it is just another normal part of negotiations. And the best way to make sure a top knows that is to, after all the toys have been put away and emotions and thoughts have come down from that scene’s high, have that talk about what happened during the scene. Because, if it's bothering you—causing you damaging painduring a moment that should have been all about your pleasure, you need to talk about it. Even if it’s not that big of a deal, talk about it. If it’s as simple as “That lollipop crop is great, but it has a strike-level of five shots; choose them well and then a new toy would be a good idea.”  or “I’m into the Mommy/Daddy title, but can we talk about aging-up our play a bit?” or “I love bondage, but we might want to work on my flexibility before attempting that tie again.” Make the conversation as much about you and your comfort level as possible and find ways to reach a middle ground or alternative.

Take the letter-writer, the phrase “whether you want to or not” is incredibly and understandably triggering. But it’s also a really common kink. Try to find a phrase that feels less triggering that gets the same idea across for him, but doesn’t connect their great and healthy love life with something traumatic for her. 

Even something like “Tell me you want this” or even just a really confident “You want this, don’t you?” Which can often oddly work on a lot of different and conflicting levels in kinkland. For her—and in the non-lizard brain part of his head—this works as a way of her stating her own pleasure, of taking control of it and giving it a voice. Which can be really empowering and keeps that consensual check-in process fueling the scene, rather than detracting from it. But, on the other hand, it also keeps him in the dominant position by making it a command. Making it something he makes her say. 

Whatever the phrase or whatever the compromise, as play partners, you want to find a common middle ground that both respects boundaries and celebrates desires. It's not always easy, but it's almost universally worth it.

It’s hard when kinksters’ desires don’t line up perfectly. It’s incredibly hard when they flat-out conflict with each other. But it’s something that we all deal with. Establishing and maintaining boundaries is one of the most important things we can do for each other and for ourselves. So, no matter how uncomfortable it makes us or how ill-received we worry it’ll be, we have to do it. Because that kind of constant and completely honest communication is the difference between, at best, an okay scene that could have been better and really good kink.

And, at worst…well, isn’t a little crack in that fourth wall worth avoiding all that?

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