I'm re-running the stories that serve as deep background for EXPLORATIONS. The story continues from this post.
I've always intended that this blog should be a place not just to talk about the "realities" behind the stories of EXPLORATIONS, but also about the--let's call them--"actualities" behind those "realities." There are questions that press themselves upon me every time I sit down to write, and every time I give in to temptation, in the face of a picture, or a story, and let my fingers find their way down past the waistband of my panties to the place that always seems to be waiting for them.
Why am I--the actual I--aroused by nothing as much as I'm aroused by the drama of Dominance and submission? Why do I want to be spanked, caned, whipped, anally-ravished?
Or, if the "Why?" has no answer other than "because I was born this way," then the "How?" of "How can I best live a good life given that I'm born this way?"
Given that I'm born this way.
Add to that given some other givens, and things begin to take their complicated shape:
Given that sex feels good.
Given that real life isn't like Story of O. Or a porn video.
Given that hurting other people, in real life, is bad.
Given that getting off while thinking about someone being hurt, including yourself, seems to contradict the principle that hurting people is bad, since (doesn't it seem?) what is a fantasy except a wish for something to happen in the real world?
It's likely that there's another, actual, "I" behind this italicized "real" I. It's likely that that I is much less free than "I" am to express herself erotically. If so, the question presses itself upon that "Emily" even more urgently than it does upon me; after all, I have Charles to play with--this other, hypothetically-actual "Emily" has only her fingers and whatever toys and erotic materials she can hide from her vanilla spouse to supplement her imagination and her keyboard.
EXPLORATIONS is her answer, at least for now, and this is perhaps a good moment to talk about why, and in particular to talk about why inscribing an eighteen-year-old version of herself seems to hold out some hope of making progress towards a good life.
Fantasies do seem like wishes. If the scene in our head is so hot that we can't resist abusing ourselves, in the delicious old phrase, aren't we saying that we want to play that scene in reality? Certainly I would never deny that if there were a way to play out the things in my head in a safe, sane, and consensual fashion I would jump at the chance to do so.
But here's the thing: it would still be fantasy, because it would be a scene, played safely, sanely, and consensually. If, for example, I imagine that the cop who pulled me over for speeding yesterday, on hearing that my husband would be very angry at me, had given me the option of a "State Police Session," in a secret room at headquarters; if I imagine that I had followed him to headquarters, dutifully, and in that secret room received a caning; if I imagine that I had then sucked the cocks of the on-duty officers, and had afterward been secured over the special "State Police Horse" (why else would they wear those damn riding-breech-type pants?) to have my ass ravished by any officer who cared to use me, I might want to play it as a scene with Charles (okay, maybe even with Charles and say one or two of his friends whom I trust), but I'm most assuredly not interested in being fucked by the State Police in real life.
Fantasies are not wishes, and, much as I love Disney culture (talk about crypto-BDSM!), a dream is not a wish your heart makes when it's fast asleep.
My best guess at this point is that the way to get better at answering that "How?" question is to keep exploring my fantasies, learning more and more about how they might relate to reality, without being reality. Why do I get so nervous when I'm pulled over? Because I have a thing about state authority that comes from fantasy. If I realize that, maybe I can act more naturally--that's the plan, anyway.
So why the 18-year-old fantasy-Emily avatar? Really, it's just as much about actual me, with the dilemmas of a vanilla life to worry about, as it is about "real" italic me, because it was the creation of fantasy-Emily that allowed me to create real-Emily. Real-Emily came about as a result of trying to think through the stuff that was pouring through my keyboard onto my screen about fantasy-Emily. You can kind of tell that from the way EXPLORATIONS develops, where real-Emily's voice gets progressively stronger.
Fantasy-Emily was, you see, undergoing shocking things on her wedding-night. Even after I'd given her an extremely wanton nature, what was getting me off in writing the story of her submissive wedding-night was fantasy-Charles bending her to his will, dominating her, using her. How could that possibly be reconciled with my egalitarian ethics? What if it were a human rights lawyer who were writing it?
The creation of this voice--the italicized human-rights lawyer voice of real-Emily, and along with it the creation of real-Emily's marriage to real-Charles, is what made me feel I had, let's say, a ship to go exploring in. I'd hesitate to call this voice redemptive, but certainly my mission for real-Emily is a sort of redemption, to proceed, I hope, from my longed-for actual reconciliation of my erotic nature and my ethical one.