Abusive Relationships

I am considering a definition of abusive relationships as power imbalanced relationship, where the more powerful partner applies his greater power into keeping the relationship running. The motivation for this stems from a series of problems that I believe the practice of consensual power exchange causes for ethics and social theory, but can the scope of the definition is abusive relationship in general, not merely among sadomasochistic relationships. I have worded the the definition in such a way as to make even extremely asymmetric relationships possibly non-abusive, conditional on the desires of the less powerful partner.

So here is the definition:

An intimate relationship between two partners, D and S, with D being more powerful than S overall in the social areas pertaining to their relationship (whether resulting from wealth, status, physical strength or anything else) is abusive if and only if 1) if D were not more powerful than S, there would not be an intimate relationship between D and S; & 2) S would prefer a possible situation in which D were not more powerful than S to the actual situation.

Comments:

1) states that the power difference is a necessary condition for the persisting of the relationship while 2) excludes situations where S desires to be in a power skewed relationship with D. Note that 2) talks about the power of D, not about the relationship between D and S. Thus, in order for 2) to be true, S must not merely prefer having a relationship with D, but prefer it because of the power asymmetry.

The definition takes the preferences of the less powerful partner to be decisive and ignores the preferences and particular actions of the more powerful partner completely. There are several reasons for this. One prima facie good way to describe abusive relationship is to say that the less powerful partner wants to leave but cannot, due to the influence – emotional, financial, social, physical,… – of the more powerful partner. I think it safe to assume that the more powerful partner can leave the relationship if they prefer to. Since we already assume power asymmetry between D and S as well as the current persisting of an intimate relationship between them, there is no reason to consider D’s preferences. If he would not prefer the relationship to persist, he could abort it.

[Via http://philosophusdicit.wordpress.com]

Read an excerpt from "The Hardest Part" by Alison Tyler at Fleshbot

Fleshbot has posted an excerpt from “The Hardest Part” by Alison Tyler from Bottoms Up – check it out!

Here’s an excerpt of the excerpt:

With infinite slowness, he slips my panties down my legs. My knickers are pink with hearts printed in a row, and now, they dangle from my ankles: not on, not off. I’m primed, ass up, totally exposed, waiting. He has to start now, doesn’t he? He has to spank me now.

[Via http://bottomsupbook.wordpress.com]

Self-Oppression a la Carte

In general, I think that women should be able to choose how they’re treated. Want to be barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen? Fine by me, provided that you boil the product of your sperm-gargling nether-mouth into a nice broth. Feminism is a two way street. But I do have to draw a line just this side of strict Islam.  I mean, it’s one thing to be into extreme BDSM, but when it never turns off because it’s the only way god will love you, you’ve got issues.

Some chick is defending her choice to wrap her entire head with fabric while teaching. Others want to wear the niqab in drivers’ license photos and at the beach. Sorry, honey. You want to be a faceless subordinate to men? You don’t get to teach. Or drive, or swim. Or receive proper medical attention. You get to speak when spoken to and listen to your husband fuck his other wives and concubines. And if you misbehave, you get to feel the back of his hand. Want to press charges? Good luck. Even if you get raped, it’s your fault. You shouldn’t have flashed your fingertip, slut.

This halfway bullshit gets under my skin. It’s in league with corporate bitches who demand gender-neutral everything until they want someone to open a door. Or sorority girls who throw their floppy assholes at anything with a cock and then get offended that no one respects them. But unlike the niqabi, total cunts can still be picked out of a lineup.

What pisses me off the most about these women is that they paint an inaccurate picture of extreme Islamic life. The women you see on CNN, following their husbands in burqas in 400-degree heat, don’t go home, turn on South Park and put a pizza in the oven. The men who stone their wives in the street don’t whisper sweet nothings. Young girls who have their clits cut off are nobody’s little princesses. The men are assholes and the women are slaves, and there’s nothing poetic or beautiful about it.

But I guess that’s the beauty of America. We’re not a theocracy, so moderate Islam flourishes among other moderate religions. And moderate Muslims are free to choose the niqab without giving up anything else, just like moderate Christians who embrace modest dress and ritualized prayer without conforming to a strict interpretation of the bible. It’s like a buffet of hypocrisy at which we all feed like self-righteous cattle.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go shave my head, change my name and move to another city… just in case my readers aren’t all moderate.

[Via http://randominatrix.wordpress.com]

6 Hours...

That’s how much sleep I have gotten in the last 3 days. I am extremely tired, so much so that when I do lie down, I can’t fall sleep right away. When I finally do, I drift in and out, my head throbbing. I am so tired that I am nautious. I am detached, disconnected, back in a world of nothingness far away from what I want in my life. I can’t have the safety of being home right now and so in response my mind rebels, pushing everyone away. In short, I think too much.

I have several splendid possibilities coming up that titillate the nerves. One is with a good friend, good enough that I have said no to Master for the first time in… well for the first time. To be more accurate, this morning I will tell him soon, but not yet. Meagan and I have been friends for a long time, longer than I have known him and we need to be settled before anything happens. I’m happy about this circumstance and I refuse to rush it. This friendship is too important to me and I will not compromise it, even for him. If it happens, it happens, but we’re not quite there yet.

Andy and I have not spoken, not really, for several months now, but he texted me to check in a few days ago, Seems he and his longtime girlfriend split up and he needed a little shoulder to beat on. No, no I haven’t seem him at all, much less in a sexual way, though I admit to thinking about it. Andy will provide an exquisite pain. He is so full of quiet rage that when he looses it, he may actually kill me, I exaggerated slightly of course, but not by a lot. I fear that when he does lose his anger, he will not be able to reign it in immediately.

Well why in the world would I see him then you ask. That is an excellent question. I have figured out a lot of my disconnectedness of late. Way back when I started seeing Bear, when I asked him for that emotional connection, I meant it with my whole heart. I was in that place as a sub, as a slave where I needed more than just mind blowing sex. This venture is about more than that for me. I think it always has been, but I needed to realize it again.

I know in my vanilla life that things can’t change and I’m not asking for that. Right now, I can’t be collared, not really as I am married. I’m not asking for that. What I want is to be needed. I look around at my non-vanilla friends and I see the kinds of relationships that I want. I know it can be done. It isn’t so much about being together constantly… its… *sigh*

I want him to think about me when we are apart. I want him to desire me, not just my body but who I am. I want him to think of me and all the splendid little pains and pleasures he will inflict and when he does, I don’t want him to be able to think about anyone else in that capacity. I don’t mean physically as I would never presume to tell any Master who they could or couldn’t have sexually, but emotionally… I need a strong Master who will possess me entirely, bring me to my knees quaking and tenderly push my into being a better woman, a better slave.

Yes, I realize this is selfish and childish in a lot of ways. It even borders on being not at all subby the demands I am making. The men in my life… all of the men, in every capacity… if I were to fall off the Earth tomorrow, every one of them would pick up, move on without blinking an eye. Some wouldn’t even notice. I’m good in bed, enjoy sucking cock and have been told I am quite good at it. I have a deep capacity to take large amounts of pain and my body gushes with excitement when I do. I am extremely obedient and will do damn near anything, take anything he wishes to give in order to please the man I am with. My one desire, my one demand is that in return, he possess me, by force if necessary, body and soul.

[Via http://bbwneedsitnow.wordpress.com]

Heading out to get Master at the train.

It’s Wednesday, and I just got through spending 15 minutes lacing up my boots. In all fairness, when I first got these boots it took me twenty minutes to lace them, and my mother would sit there and laugh at me while I did it. lol. Gotta love mom. I’m not heading out to school though, I’m heading out to meet Master at the train station, and as it turns out, Colorado is the muddiest place ever. Yeah, I still have the boots I wore back in High School. I tend to take really good care of my things.

Right now, we don’t have a car yet (it’s on my Day Zero list though, and I’m working hard on it!), and when we need to go to the store it’s a two-mile walk. Usually we walk it both ways, but tonight we’re taxi-ing it home, since we want to get home at a reasonable hour. My wrist is also hurt and I don’t honestly know if I could carry groceries two miles without risking further injury.

Thinking about myself getting ready to leave and meet Master at the train has me thinking about how I used to greet him after work. When we first met, and for a long while afterwards – I would put my orange tigersquash blanket by the door, and kneel there while I waited for him. That was the rule. Always be waiting in sexy lingerie by the door. It made him happy, but it also made me happy. Whenever he came to the door he would be smiling and excited, and I would have a hard time sitting still. ^^ Later, I started meeting him at the bus stop, and walking him home. Then we moved here, and I started meeting him when he got to the bunny path outside the house, and start walking him home. That changed to staying at home, and making sure dinner was ready when he got here, and that’s pretty much where it is at the moment.

I like to cook, and I don’t mind it one bit, but I think I miss sitting on my orange blanket waiting for him. Waiting for him while I kneel makes me feel much more the slave, and cooking for him makes me feel much more like a house wife. I guess in the end I’m both of those things and more. It’s just crazy how things evolve, and continue to evolve. I love it.

<3

[Via http://redvinylkitty.wordpress.com]

That Perfect Moment

There is this moment during sex that thrills me to no end. It raises a deep ache within me and pushes me over the edge every time. Some men drag the moment out making it a blissful agony. Some men push through it hard and fast taking my breath away. Some men ignore it and the thrill is short and lonely. Any way, with any man, that first moment when his hard cock slides inside me, I shiver with delight.

Over my lifetime I have been with innumerable men. Each was unique in their experience and each used that moment differently. The boy I was with when I lost my virginity was certainly more experienced than I was at the time, but not by much. He tried to be smooth, nonchalant as if it were nothing. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that moment when he pushed through my maidenhead, that small sweet pain would stay with me always.

I have been with gentle men both in touch and sensibilities. The moment with this kind of man is typically sweet, almost a hesitant softness that brings me closer to him. Wrapped in the arms of a lover it becomes a full body experience, as if when he enters me it is more than just my body he possesses.

I have been with men that care nothing for me, are just interested in the satisfaction my body can provide. Even with this kind of man the moment is perfect. Its fast, like a little electric shock sent down my spine, over all too soon.

I have been with fun men who enjoy teasing me. This kind of man draws out the moment, sliding the head of his cock in and out, just barely letting me enjoy a taste of what is to come. I’ve actually cum this way, the teasing frustrating me until the plunge sends me over the edge hard and fast.

I have been with men who love me, want more from me than the sex I can provide. This kind of man pushes deep and long, as if the moment can be made to last forever. For that gasping breath, he can possess me, be the man in my life he wants to be.

When I am with Master, there are several moments for me. He likes to change position often and because He is so large, it is as if the moment happens again each time He chooses a new way to have me. It is often hard, insistent, filled with blissful abandon. When he is gentle, slow, it becomes a sweet agony, my body arching against His, trying to draw Him closer. More than anything, when Master slides deep, I know I am home, right where I belong.

[Via http://bbwneedsitnow.wordpress.com]

Wrapped in Thick Gauze

I can’t seem to pull myself out of the funk that this week’s events have brought. All my feelings are suppressed to the point I can’t feel anything. The world is kind of out of focus and far away.

No doubt my ex was utterly jealous and annoyed by the fact that I’m having a great sex life without him, considering he thought I was frigid because I didn’t want the abusive shit touching me. It was a really low blow to bring up my personal, private, adult life and imply that I had involved the children in it.

I asked Master to release me, but he wouldn’t. All the hard work he’s done with me seems to have just gone out the window. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to do what he wants from me now, and he’ll be disappointed in me.

What I really want to do is crawl into a cave and sleep until the sleep blends into a more eternal version.

I feel lost. And I’m alone in this. And I don’t know how I can be a good parent when I can barely function at the moment.

Beware of the people you love. So many of them say they love you, but they don’t.

And if you meet the wrong one, and believe his empty words, he’ll suck your soul for the rest of your life.

[Via http://momnomnom.wordpress.com]

Do a little spin...

Yes – do a little spin.

Hold your hands out as far as you can a do a little spin.

Let’s assume that anything you can touch either belongs to you or is within your sphere of influence. Everything else is not yours and does not fall within your domain, your realm or your magical kingdom.

A piece of rope or chain across the room does not become yours simply because you see it.  A person does not become your submissive, slave, lord, master or anything simply because you can see them. They are not yours to petition, place under consideration, leer at, spank, smack or anything unless it’s mutual.

Do a little spin.

Hold your hands out as far as you can a do a little spin.

You might touch something that belongs to someone else – it’s not yours just because you think it should be by right of position. That might be my toy bag, my rope, my arm or ass. They are not yours.

Do a little spin.

Hold your hands out as far as you can a do a little spin.

If you can’t see me then what I am doing, who I doing it with and where I am doing it is not your concern. It is none of your business, it does not fall within your domain, your realm or your magical kingdom.

If you can see me on the street, in the grocery store or anywhere other than within the very narrow scope of your domain, your realm or your magical kingdom you are just another person that I may or may not acknowledge. I am not going to bow before you, offer my hand to be kissed or play the game.

Do a little spin.

Hold your hands out as far as you can a do a little spin.

Spin faster, then faster and faster until all of your clothes and the layers of fantasy fly off. You are just a naked person and your domain, your realm and your magical that you created kingdom do not exist.

Do a little spin until you spiral away in your own self created wind…

[Via http://averybadgirl.wordpress.com]