Different Loving: The World of Sexual Dominance and Submission (2 page)

D
ISCLAIMER

This book explores highly controversial and risky sexual activities.
Readers should not attempt any of the activities described in these pages
. Neither the authors of this book, nor its interviewees, nor its publishers assume any responsibility for the exercise or misuse of the practices described herein.

As the statements of our interviewees make clear, D&Sers are exquisitely aware of the hazards inherent in what they do and take care to anticipate them, to understand them, and—most important—to avoid them. The authors provide only basic and incomplete health warnings in the appropriate chapters to remind readers of the serious hazards involved.

D&Sers make a real and absolute distinction between explicitly consensual acts between adult partners for their mutual pleasure and all acts of violence against unconsenting partners. Imposing any sexual activity on a reluctant partner is morally offensive; imposing it on an unwilling partner (or upon anyone who cannot give legal consent) is a criminal offense. Further, state laws vary: Some of these activities, even between consenting partners, are illegal in certain jurisdictions.

SECTION ONE

D
IFFERENT
L
OVING

One

I
n order to understand unusual sexualities such as dominance and submission (D&S), one first has to consider the question, “What is normal?” If the unique function of sex is reproductive—and the only reason men and women should engage in sex is for the purpose of creating new life—then only heterosexual intercourse is normal. Masturbation, oral sex, and even contraception must be considered aberrant. Reproductive relevance was the Victorian standard of normalcy, and even today many of the laws defining criminal sexual behaviors in the United States still abide by that model. In reality,
however, people have always pursued sex for reproduction
as well as
for pleasure and well-being.

We start from the premise that sex for pleasure is a normal human drive and is acceptable when it brings pleasure to both partners. From this perspective, D&S is simply a “different” kind of loving.

This book is biased toward heterosexuals quite simply because there are more heterosexuals than homosexuals in the general population as well as in the world of D&S. Gays and lesbians are nonetheless a vital and vocal component of the D&S communities and a pioneering force for the dissemination of reliable information and safety guidelines.

We use the term D&S to describe erotic activities more commonly known as sadomasochism (S/M) or bondage and discipline (B&D). Since many of our interviewees make careful distinctions among these three categories, we honor their choice of terminology in interviews and citations. In fact, defining a universally accepted label for sadomasochistic behaviors is controversial. (See
Chapter 3
, “The ABCs of D&S,” for detailed discussion.)

Few mutually consensual sexual activities are regarded with as much censure as D&S. The dearth of sensible, candid information about D&S has fostered exaggerated, negatively charged stereotypes. Dominatrices are, for example, typically portrayed as destroyers of men—a combination of the mythical enchantress Circe and the voluptuous Marlene Dietrich in
The Blue Angel
, hell-bent on emasculation. Female submissives are depicted as neurotic, self-destructive victims. And the very word
sadist
conjures the image of a criminal inflicting violent torture on helpless victims. When serial killers, such as Ted Bundy, announce that they were influenced by sadomasochistic pornography, the educated and uneducated alike accept the idea that a sociopath is an exemplar of a sexual behavior. Do some sadomasochists commit felonious assault? Undoubtedly. So do some devout Christians. Sadomasochists are prey to the same failings as regular people, because they
are
regular people.

For active D&Sers sadomasochism is a thoughtful and controlled expression of adult sexuality that holds the promise of intense intimacy and sharing. The people interviewed for this book repeatedly describe the profound gratification their sexuality affords them. They explain why an erotic piercing effects a visceral change, how pain can feel like pleasure, why bondage is psychologically liberating. And, although our interviewees’ private lives may seem unusual, these men and women are not one-dimensional sexual anomalies: Their personal aspirations and public lives will be familiar to all Americans.

The Victorian scientist, Richard von Krafft-Ebing, identified the erotic interest in inflicting pain as “sadism,” after the Marquis de Sade, and condemned sexual acts that did not result in procreation as perverse. One of the great ironies is that de Sade, who by his own admission had scant experience of sadomasochism, has come to represent sexual behaviors that violate his own philosophical precepts. De Sade’s novels advocate the ultimate philosophical liberty: freedom to violate and destroy.

The practices and attitudes of contemporary sexual dominants and submissives, in contrast, largely abide by the credo of “Safe, Sane, and Consensual.” Partners emphasize equal and honest communication, negotiation, and consent; mutual trust is fundamental. A partner’s limits and preferences are respected. De Sade would be disgusted.

The lonely pornographer of the Bastille is not the only writer whose sadomasochistic fiction has been mistaken for reality. The novels of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (the namesake of masochism), Pauline Réage, and Anne Rice—a modern writer of sadomasochistic erotica—are typically misconstrued as models for real relationships. Similarly, most pornography dealing with bondage and sadomasochism depicts severely dehumanized portraits that are as relevant to the actual practice of D&S as a sleazy porno movie is to romantic love. The masturbatory spectacle is all: The emotional content nonexistent.

Allusions to spanking, bondage, transvestism, and other so-called perversions permeate popular culture, so that sadomasochists have become both the butt of lewd jokes and delectably dark figures of forbidden sensuality.
Whether it’s talk-show host Arsenio Hall asking his female guests if they enjoy spankings or filmmaker Mel Brooks’s satires of whip-wielding sadomasochists in
High Anxiety
, coy references to aspects of dominance and submission provoke sexual innuendo and titillated snickers. How many times in just the last few years has “kinky” sex captivated readers and viewers? Tabloids delightedly jumped on rumors that actors such as Cary Grant, Nick Nolte, and Jack Nicholson enjoy spanking women. Madonna’s book
Sex
contains sadomasochistic images, which, on the whole, are now a stock-in-trade of pop music videos.

For over a century we have lived with a cultural paradox: Descriptions of these sexual behaviors are so compelling that the media can always bank on their depictions to stir interest and increase profits. At the same time, we condemn these behaviors, which we do not understand, and regard people who make D&S a regular part of their lives as intrinsically different, frightening, wrong.

In this book we place each of the controversial sexual practices we discuss in its larger, real-life context. Most of all, we present sexual dominants, submissives, and fetishists as
they
see themselves: loving and compassionate individuals who care about their partners’ enjoyment and welfare and who engage in D&S for the pleasure and mutual satisfaction that it affords. These are contributing and respected members of society: our next-door neighbors, our parents, our brothers and sisters, our teachers and our doctors, Hollywood’s brightest stars and the grocery store’s nicest cashiers, our politicians and our clergy.