"innate." Some BDSMers consider BDSM an "orientation" -- and I, myself, once found
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"innate." Some BDSMers consider BDSM an "orientation" -- and I, myself, once found
that thinking of BDSM as an orientation was extremely helpful in coming to terms with
my BDSM desires. But one thing I don't like about the orientation model now is that it
makes us sound like we're apologizing. "Poor little me! It's not my fault I'm straight! Or a
domme! Whatever!" Why would any of these things be faults in the first place? Our
bodies are our own, our experiences are our own, and our consent is our own to give.
The orientation model is one of the cultural factors that makes it hard to discuss sensory,
sensual experiences without defaulting to sexuality. As commenter saurus pointed out on
the Feministe version of part 1 of this post:
Sometimes I think that we have compulsions, needs or "fetishes" that aren't sexual, but
lumping them in with sexuality is sometimes the most convenient or socially manageable
way to deal with them or get those needs met. They might even physically arouse us for a
variety of reasons, but that might be a side effect instead of the act's inherent nature.
Which is not to say that every act can be cleanly cleaved into "sexual" and "non-sexual"
-- of course not. But I think we lack a language around these needs that doesn't use
sexuality. I see a lot of groundbreaking work coming out of the asexual and disability
justice communities in this regard (which is just to say that I find the folks in these
groups are churning out some incredible ways to "queer" conventional dominant ideas
about sexuality; not that they never have sex or whatever).
I think one answer to that is to just open up the definition of sexuality to include these
things, but as someone who identifies vehemently not as "sex positive" but as "sex non-
judgmental," I know I don't personally want all my shit to be lumped in with sexuality. It
just makes me picture some sex judgmental person insisting that "oh, that's totally
sexual.”
I, Clarisse, can certainly attest that it's common for people to have BDSM encounters that
are "just" BDSM -- "no sex involved.” For example -- an encounter where one partner
whips the other, or gets whipped, and there's no genital contact or even discussion of
genitals. And I'd like to stress that when I have encounters like that, they can be very
satisfying without involving sex. The release -- the high -- I get from a heavy BDSM
encounter can be its own reward.
I've also had BDSM encounters where I got turned on...
... but I didn't feel turned on until later, or afterwards, or until my partner did something
specific to draw out my desire. For example -- I remember that in one intense BDSM
encounter as a domme, I wound up the encounter and pulled away from my partner. We
had both been sitting down; I stood up and took off the metal claws I'd been using to rip
him up. (Secretly, the claws were banjo picks. Do-It-Yourself BDSM is awesome.)
Then I leaned over my partner to pick something up. I had thought we were pretty much
done, but he seized me as I leaned over, and he pulled me close and kissed my neck, and I
literally gasped in shock. My sexual desire spiked so hard... I practically melted into his
arms. And yet if you'd asked me, moments before, whether I was turned on... I would
have said "no."
One way to think about it might be that sometimes, BDSM "primes" me so that I'm
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