Comments for supplicium post mortem

Comment on frontiers by Mija

Mija — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 23:01:40 +0000

What all everyone above has said. Times 10. Aside from all the good points mentioned, you shouldn’t feel you have to do anything that makes you feel less like yourself.

However, pulling out and examining others toys is definitely one of the joys of the scene for me. And my looking means nothing other than that I want to see their toys. So there!

Comment on frontiers by Iris

Iris — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 20:13:01 +0000

I wish I were as articulate as sparkle and MasterRetep, but I just wanted to add my voice to theirs in saying that I think it’s both normal and fine to be tentative about intimacy. People who aren’t careful get hurt, and you’ve already had more than your share of hurt. This world we dabble (or revel) in is an emotionally dangerous one and you know better than anyone what you’re ready for and what will be right for you.

Comment on Casey & anger by Iris

Iris — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 20:08:09 +0000

There’s so very much to comment on here, not the least of which is the remarkable (no pun intended, truly) gift that M gave Casey with his love, tenderness, and acceptance. The problem (asset?) with loving and experiencing that kind of tenderness is that we can’t become un-tenderized again. We can put up walls to protect the tender inside, but we can’t truly lose it. I hope Casey can thrive in your dreams, finding some safe and supportive interactions, until such time (if any) it’s safe to come out.

Comment on frontiers by MasterRetep

MasterRetep — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 07:54:29 +0000

Serenity’s observations are so true. We all ascribe widely different levels of significance to different kinds of intimacy. This happens between different cultures and across individuals within that culture. As we grow up we discover that “everyone is doing it” is the cry of the envious schoolchild or teenager who feels they are not aligned to this week’s emerging fashion trend. But with maturity comes the realisation that in the wider population, there is much wider diversity. Ironically, this operates in both directions. There are probably far more people than we think who are uncomfortable with any shared physical intimacy and, at the same time, probably a much greater sublimated interest in kinky sex than most would ever admit to, as indicated by the popularity of “bodice ripper” books in public libraries or spanking/bdsm themes in top shelf erotic paperbacks.

Having had the joy of meeting you, you are neither cold, reserved nor conceited. You are respectful, easy and open. In your quiet and charmingly straightforward way you encouraged me to open up my own feelings about sexuality, kink, morality and religion in a conversation that I found profoundly more intimate than any snatched kiss.

Twenty six months ago, you were struck, out of the blue, by your own personal tsunami. Of course you now find the idea of taking up surfing again to be terrifying, the ocean very scary and even water pretty uncomfortable. But you can walk along the beach, paddle a little at low tide (yes, it was a genuine freudian slip) and even play in some gentle waves without getting hurt. Tidal waves are really very rare.

Comment on frontiers by Serenity Everton

Serenity Everton — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 22:57:05 +0000

You wrote: “Besides first-kiss boy and M, I think I’ve only kissed two other boys. I am 41 years old, and I know this is not normal.”

Oh, I think it might be more normal than you think. Including Chris, I’ve kissed 1 teenage boy and two men, and frankly I’m not sure the teenage boy counted.

There are ways that we express ourselves in intimate relationships that are important to us, and when we try to take those things out of intimacy and make them applicable to the wider world (even with close friends) it can be awkward and (worse) simply wrong for us. It doesn’t matter that ‘other people do it’ without reserve. Your sister might make out with every man she spends an evening while you have only kissed 3 men in your life. On the other hand, you might be willing to talk to the very first date about religion & death and those might be things someone else wouldn’t bring up until very much later, when depressed and drunk and already sleeping with a man.

I don’t think you come off as cold and conceited at all. And I’d say that *if* the day ever comes – whether this year or when you’re 70 – that you have the opportunity to think about spanking or sexual intimacy again, your heart will know the right answer. At that time, if you’re more scared than wanting, you *should* say no.

In the meantime, poking at your heart and head won’t hurt. And I like reading about it.

Hugs,
s

Comment on Casey & anger by Karl Friedrich Gauss

Karl Friedrich Gauss — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 16:23:40 +0000

A very moving reflection. At least you still have your dream life. I get the feeling that there’s a lot more to your story than I have yet understood.

Comment on Casey & anger by debbie ann

debbie ann — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 10:39:37 +0000

thank you for writing that

Comment on masculinity by cdm

cdm — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 15:55:30 +0000

Perhaps I ought to have defined “extreme skepticism”. I am attracted to and respect men and women who are skeptical, particularly of powerful, protected, and/or trendy ideas. I’ve also encountered people (more men than women) who appear skeptical to the point of refusing to value or open themselves to anything they cannot measure or explain, or who substitute scoffing and condescension for skepticism. This is what I would call “extreme skepticism,” and I personally find it as limiting as emotional illiteracy. I listed extreme skepticism here because I wanted to evoke a kind of traditional masculinity that was still open to emotion, intuition, and aspects of reality that lie beyond the purely rational. I’m not sure how men are traditionally seen vis-a-vis skepticism, but I was addressing the stereotype of the man who lives exclusively through the rational. I find well-wielded rationality and skepticism a powerful turn-on, but beyond a certain point it begins to feel shallow to me. I would also say, incidentally, that my experience of religion and theology involves a robust measure of skepticism, intellectual rigor, and free inquiry. This, too, is something I’m drawn to in the masculine. As for what a “real” man can or cannot be, I don’t think I was speaking of “real” men (whoever they might be) but merely an essential type of masculinity that attracts me.

Comment on masculinity by cdm

cdm — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 15:27:59 +0000

I respect men with well-groomed beards, even if it wouldn’t be my first choice as a romantic partner. And for men of your very advanced age, beards are a more acceptable accessory. *ducks*

Comment on masculinity by PaulAtNorthGare

PaulAtNorthGare — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 19:33:09 +0000

I have a question, which I hope will come across in the right way. Your attraction to the old-fashioned masculine look and feel is fair enough, and mostly that’s what you describe. But this strikes me as odd:

…any more than it involves emotional illiteracy, sports obsession, extreme skepticism…

I get the point that “emotional illiteracy” and “sports obsession” are seen as stereotypically male, but not a good thing, so that fits. But “extreme skepticism”? I also can see that that might be an issue for you in a man, since it wouldn’t fit with your religious beliefs, but it seems to me that’s a complete separate preference thrown into the mix here. Are men traditionally seen as extreme skeptics? Or is that just something you also happen not to like? Are you saying that there are limits on how skeptical a “real” man can be? If so, why?