bridgeburner
threadkiller
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I knew I went to the wrong college.
-B
-B
SMACK--a concept, a gathering. Welcome.
- Thread starter Pure
- Start date
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
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- Dec 20, 2001
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//Oho, you have to get up mighty early in the morning to come up with a rape concept that old uncle rosco has not already considered under the bridge. //
How about incestuous rape.? (e.g., father/daughter), but not from an angry, violent or crazy father.
Crudely accomplished if his life is threatened (NOT hers), and she's unaware of this.
Better no threat to his life, but 1) either personal harm, say,anally raped himself [ perhaps after a demonstration of a 2 1/2 diameter cock rape of another male]. or 2) harm to his wife--e.g., she will be raped by several nasty fellows.
The point being that the father can have no explanation, afterwards, in terms of the *daughter's* welfare (i.e., I [father] did it to save your skin or your life).
In larger terms, instead of 'obnoxiousness' or 'goblin' (physically repulsive) qualities, one wants moral revulsion.
How about incestuous rape.? (e.g., father/daughter), but not from an angry, violent or crazy father.
Crudely accomplished if his life is threatened (NOT hers), and she's unaware of this.
Better no threat to his life, but 1) either personal harm, say,anally raped himself [ perhaps after a demonstration of a 2 1/2 diameter cock rape of another male]. or 2) harm to his wife--e.g., she will be raped by several nasty fellows.
The point being that the father can have no explanation, afterwards, in terms of the *daughter's* welfare (i.e., I [father] did it to save your skin or your life).
In larger terms, instead of 'obnoxiousness' or 'goblin' (physically repulsive) qualities, one wants moral revulsion.
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Trolls.
Trolls live under bridges.
-B
Trolls live under bridges.
-B
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
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Marquis, so.... was she back the next weekend for more?
I can see word spreading around the distaff side of the law school about the 'boys' who can 'put it' very concisely. Lineups outside your dank lair(s).
J.
For her and others' benefit put this above the door:
"To enter here licenses the inference to constructive consent."
I can see word spreading around the distaff side of the law school about the 'boys' who can 'put it' very concisely. Lineups outside your dank lair(s).
J.
For her and others' benefit put this above the door:
"To enter here licenses the inference to constructive consent."
Netzach
>semiotics?
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2003
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- 21,732
The Rubber Store (a dispatch)
The rubber store kept getting press people sticking their heads through the door, asking to speak to the designer. The designer is in Eastern Europe. The girl at the counter would do for an interview.
This is because they made the infamous breast cup that got detached at half time and the infamous studded latex waistcoat sported by Janet Jackson, and the gloves and hood I myself just purchased.
The downside to working at the rubber store is not inconsiderate patrons like me who don't zip zippers after trying on an item, apparently, but people who can't refrain from masturbating in the dressing rooms.
And I thought my job in retail sucked.
Dreamt of a man in a trenchcoat, glasses, sad-sack Kevin Spacy jowls, all middle aged boring, a good rapist perhaps to draw out revulsion and tawdry distaste. His head was under my foot because I view the whole world upside down. M failed to try to pick him up, despite my prodding. The kind of guy I'd like to see with tears in his eyes.
The rubber store kept getting press people sticking their heads through the door, asking to speak to the designer. The designer is in Eastern Europe. The girl at the counter would do for an interview.
This is because they made the infamous breast cup that got detached at half time and the infamous studded latex waistcoat sported by Janet Jackson, and the gloves and hood I myself just purchased.
The downside to working at the rubber store is not inconsiderate patrons like me who don't zip zippers after trying on an item, apparently, but people who can't refrain from masturbating in the dressing rooms.
And I thought my job in retail sucked.
Dreamt of a man in a trenchcoat, glasses, sad-sack Kevin Spacy jowls, all middle aged boring, a good rapist perhaps to draw out revulsion and tawdry distaste. His head was under my foot because I view the whole world upside down. M failed to try to pick him up, despite my prodding. The kind of guy I'd like to see with tears in his eyes.
sigsauerprinces
just a shot away from you
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2004
- Posts
- 437
Pure you said in my pee thread "Personally I prefer degradation space, but that's just me." i have a question-how would you make piss play more degradingn for a sub who didnt find it overly so in the first place? for example its something i want to do, but i've never done it. im sure the first few times i will feel some level of humiliation ect...but not a huge amount, because honestly its something i want to do, i wouldnt have to be forced to at all.
Honestly? It's something I fantasized about and was sure I wanted....before I was in the shower and he was standing over me, cock in hand angled at my face. There is nothing like that moment of reality to make all lusts hesitant and all certainties uncertain.
Besides, any dom trying to make his Humiliation badge won't start off full-force. Just scare you with it close to you first, then maybe splash your toes a little, then your tits. Face only after you've long since thought the worst had passed. Drinking is a distant thought. I don't know what comes next...but then again, it's not MY business to know that.
Besides, any dom trying to make his Humiliation badge won't start off full-force. Just scare you with it close to you first, then maybe splash your toes a little, then your tits. Face only after you've long since thought the worst had passed. Drinking is a distant thought. I don't know what comes next...but then again, it's not MY business to know that.
True story of last night, relayed in third person:
She was hungry for him. She knew that after he came back from the gym, he'd be ready, full of exuberant, wild violence. She wanted to be ready too, but more than that, she WAS ready.
When he arrived, it was getting late. Her fire had faded slightly into an ember, eager to be stoked back into life. She still wasn't ready, though. He pinned her rough, brutal, first with the simple mechanical efficiency of his arms, then with his laugh, his eyes. It was his eyes that could have broken her--too brilliant to be sane. "You'd better yellow out, or I'll snap your fucking neck!" his whisper grated through an exquisitely angelic grin. She whimpered the word and was released.
Immediately he was around her, stroking softly, crooning, gentle. She knew better than to trust it, and yet her body still responded. Her back arched into his hand, craving again. He pushed her into the bedroom, onto the mattress, onto her stomach. She was a willing victim again.
The phone rang.
Expecting nothing but a few short words and a dismissal, she lay obediently still for him. He straddled her legs and spread her, encountering the proof of her eagerness. Yet he let none of it show in his voice, beginning and carrying a conversation on the phone for several minutes, all the while poking, prodding, hitting only hard enough to ripple the flesh without pain. She soon lost interest in the lack of stimulation; she made only cursory attempts at shrinking away from his probing fingers. Her arousal dried up.
"Yeah, talk to you later," he said, hung up, and moved forward, penetrating her instantly. It hurt. She squirmed to accomodate him, trying to recover the heated urgency that she'd felt earlier. It wasn't too terribly long before it returned, making her arch her back to take more, to let him take her completely. This was what she'd been waiting for and she luxuriated in the delicious sensation.
He pulled out. "Not going to let it end that quickly." This too pleased her; she expected him to tug her, flip her, bend her over and ride her harder. She wanted it like that. She loved it.
The phone rang again. Surely he wouldn't pick it up for more than a second...but he did, and picked up the conversation from where he had left off, leaving her cunt empty and quickly cooling. Questions entered her mind; what the fuck was he doing? Why wasn't he fucking her? Didn't he see how much she wanted it? Couldn't he feel it? Why would he sit and have a stupid conversation when he could be inside her nice wet cunt? She almost started crying when she heard him laughing, not at her, but at the stupid conversation. It was truly unfair.
It was late. She was being ignored and she was ready to sleep. No longer interested in the least with more sex, she hid her head under a pillow to nap while he chatted idly.
Again, the sudden goodbye. Again, the sudden re-entry. His cock tore into her unprepared flesh, flesh that had been wonderfully prepared so shortly before. All that moisture, wasted. He rode her quickly now, building his pleasure in short stabs that knocked the wind from her lungs. Even now, she thought she might still get her own satisfaction--if he'd just give her a little time to recover. It could still be good. It could...
He pulled out, covered her ass with hot jets of semen, and the room was silent again. Quietly he got up to grab some tissue for her and she blinked through initial tears to smile at him. At least he would still give her some afterglow. The pleasure was denied, but surely he'd still give her that. She reached for the tissue---
---and the phone rang. Dropping the box to her side, he left to get it, and the tears began to fall.
Amoral of the story: Sometimes it's not about me. Sometimes, "me" is irrelevant, or even counterproductive.
She was hungry for him. She knew that after he came back from the gym, he'd be ready, full of exuberant, wild violence. She wanted to be ready too, but more than that, she WAS ready.
When he arrived, it was getting late. Her fire had faded slightly into an ember, eager to be stoked back into life. She still wasn't ready, though. He pinned her rough, brutal, first with the simple mechanical efficiency of his arms, then with his laugh, his eyes. It was his eyes that could have broken her--too brilliant to be sane. "You'd better yellow out, or I'll snap your fucking neck!" his whisper grated through an exquisitely angelic grin. She whimpered the word and was released.
Immediately he was around her, stroking softly, crooning, gentle. She knew better than to trust it, and yet her body still responded. Her back arched into his hand, craving again. He pushed her into the bedroom, onto the mattress, onto her stomach. She was a willing victim again.
The phone rang.
Expecting nothing but a few short words and a dismissal, she lay obediently still for him. He straddled her legs and spread her, encountering the proof of her eagerness. Yet he let none of it show in his voice, beginning and carrying a conversation on the phone for several minutes, all the while poking, prodding, hitting only hard enough to ripple the flesh without pain. She soon lost interest in the lack of stimulation; she made only cursory attempts at shrinking away from his probing fingers. Her arousal dried up.
"Yeah, talk to you later," he said, hung up, and moved forward, penetrating her instantly. It hurt. She squirmed to accomodate him, trying to recover the heated urgency that she'd felt earlier. It wasn't too terribly long before it returned, making her arch her back to take more, to let him take her completely. This was what she'd been waiting for and she luxuriated in the delicious sensation.
He pulled out. "Not going to let it end that quickly." This too pleased her; she expected him to tug her, flip her, bend her over and ride her harder. She wanted it like that. She loved it.
The phone rang again. Surely he wouldn't pick it up for more than a second...but he did, and picked up the conversation from where he had left off, leaving her cunt empty and quickly cooling. Questions entered her mind; what the fuck was he doing? Why wasn't he fucking her? Didn't he see how much she wanted it? Couldn't he feel it? Why would he sit and have a stupid conversation when he could be inside her nice wet cunt? She almost started crying when she heard him laughing, not at her, but at the stupid conversation. It was truly unfair.
It was late. She was being ignored and she was ready to sleep. No longer interested in the least with more sex, she hid her head under a pillow to nap while he chatted idly.
Again, the sudden goodbye. Again, the sudden re-entry. His cock tore into her unprepared flesh, flesh that had been wonderfully prepared so shortly before. All that moisture, wasted. He rode her quickly now, building his pleasure in short stabs that knocked the wind from her lungs. Even now, she thought she might still get her own satisfaction--if he'd just give her a little time to recover. It could still be good. It could...
He pulled out, covered her ass with hot jets of semen, and the room was silent again. Quietly he got up to grab some tissue for her and she blinked through initial tears to smile at him. At least he would still give her some afterglow. The pleasure was denied, but surely he'd still give her that. She reached for the tissue---
---and the phone rang. Dropping the box to her side, he left to get it, and the tears began to fall.
Amoral of the story: Sometimes it's not about me. Sometimes, "me" is irrelevant, or even counterproductive.
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2001
- Posts
- 15,135
It was sterile. It was warm. His. That's what Crystal told herself and had become a fine guzzler of Jake's piss. Now when she heard "On your knees bitch," it wasn't for a blow job, most often, and she'd kneel and lick her lips and open for the gold stream. At first, Jake took some satisfaction in the motions of the mouth and tongue, in the contractions of her throat, because it reminded him of a baby's avidity for the breast. "Here's your nourishment, Baby Doll," he'd say.
But he began to take a dislike to this rote-ness of devotion, and the confidence she showed in saying, before him and to her female friends, "I'm his piss slave," with a kind of expansion of the chest, lifting up the breasts. The exaggerations, the pursing of the lips and slurping began to annoy him, "She's trying to strut her devotion," he thought. "I don't want her to have that choice."
"Things are going to change," Jake said, and in her fullness of spirit she had an ominous feeling. She saw him take delivery, in the apartment, of a kind of flat leather divan, with the proportions of a single bed and having a thin cushion at one end, to rest the head. At this end he had a holder affixed, a vertical rod, like those attached to a hospital bed, with a metal loop about 6 inches in diameter, which would, there, have held an IV bottle. Which here would hold the funnel at the height of his crotch.
For the other end of the funnel, a short length of 1 in diameter rubber tubing, to reach Crystal's mouth, as she reclined. "When I'm in the living room, evenings, unless you have permission to do otherwise, you are to be on the recliner, your yap around the end of the tube to keep you quiet. As the need arises I will come over, as use you as a convenience, you being the only urinal in this room."
Her imagination was racing the next night in the living room, as she entered, two steps behind him, lay on the divan, and took the tube into her mouth. He seemed uninterested and continued his reading. Crystal was almost dozing, when she heard the sound of his zipper, and almost immediately the sound of Jake's piss hitting the metal. The acrid taste flooded her mouth, but as she'd already learned, she kept swallowing and swallowing without taking the briefest second to try to plan or observe. The damn slurping has ceased. What was happening was almost involuntary; he could see the rippling of the muscles in her throat. A nearly automatic peristalsis.
At the sound of the zipper, apparently going up, she relaxed. "I passed," she thought, especially because she'd made hardly a sound; her breasts lay in flat repose on her chest. At the end of the evening it appeared all was in order when he signaled her to arise. "A quiet and pleasant evening," Jake said, almost reflectively. The option of displaying devotion was gone; with the diminishment of her pride, he now saw her spirit as fallow, awaiting. "Your service is satisfactory."
For the next night he invited over the friends to whom she'd bragged of her piss slavery. Expecting pride, the four were shocked at Crystal's abjection. Their questions about the reasons remained unspoken, and they simply gazed at her. That made her ashamed—which touched one of them, Marie, in the pit of her stomach, but did not prevent three of them from participating.
Mounting a footstool he'd placed by the head of the divan, they heard his order, and saw her nod. They removed the funnel from its holder; because he'd added a foot of tubing, they could hold the funnel directly before their cunts; any questions about what was deserved, vanished, as one after the other, they emptied their bladders into it.
But he began to take a dislike to this rote-ness of devotion, and the confidence she showed in saying, before him and to her female friends, "I'm his piss slave," with a kind of expansion of the chest, lifting up the breasts. The exaggerations, the pursing of the lips and slurping began to annoy him, "She's trying to strut her devotion," he thought. "I don't want her to have that choice."
"Things are going to change," Jake said, and in her fullness of spirit she had an ominous feeling. She saw him take delivery, in the apartment, of a kind of flat leather divan, with the proportions of a single bed and having a thin cushion at one end, to rest the head. At this end he had a holder affixed, a vertical rod, like those attached to a hospital bed, with a metal loop about 6 inches in diameter, which would, there, have held an IV bottle. Which here would hold the funnel at the height of his crotch.
For the other end of the funnel, a short length of 1 in diameter rubber tubing, to reach Crystal's mouth, as she reclined. "When I'm in the living room, evenings, unless you have permission to do otherwise, you are to be on the recliner, your yap around the end of the tube to keep you quiet. As the need arises I will come over, as use you as a convenience, you being the only urinal in this room."
Her imagination was racing the next night in the living room, as she entered, two steps behind him, lay on the divan, and took the tube into her mouth. He seemed uninterested and continued his reading. Crystal was almost dozing, when she heard the sound of his zipper, and almost immediately the sound of Jake's piss hitting the metal. The acrid taste flooded her mouth, but as she'd already learned, she kept swallowing and swallowing without taking the briefest second to try to plan or observe. The damn slurping has ceased. What was happening was almost involuntary; he could see the rippling of the muscles in her throat. A nearly automatic peristalsis.
At the sound of the zipper, apparently going up, she relaxed. "I passed," she thought, especially because she'd made hardly a sound; her breasts lay in flat repose on her chest. At the end of the evening it appeared all was in order when he signaled her to arise. "A quiet and pleasant evening," Jake said, almost reflectively. The option of displaying devotion was gone; with the diminishment of her pride, he now saw her spirit as fallow, awaiting. "Your service is satisfactory."
For the next night he invited over the friends to whom she'd bragged of her piss slavery. Expecting pride, the four were shocked at Crystal's abjection. Their questions about the reasons remained unspoken, and they simply gazed at her. That made her ashamed—which touched one of them, Marie, in the pit of her stomach, but did not prevent three of them from participating.
Mounting a footstool he'd placed by the head of the divan, they heard his order, and saw her nod. They removed the funnel from its holder; because he'd added a foot of tubing, they could hold the funnel directly before their cunts; any questions about what was deserved, vanished, as one after the other, they emptied their bladders into it.
sigsauerprinces
just a shot away from you
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2004
- Posts
- 437
pure-nice...i liked it. oops-is it still smack then? 
seriously tho...it was a turn on.
quint-all i can say is if i was in that kind of union i wouldnt last more than a couple nights. i can take physical cruelty for days, but mental cruelty like that guts me. if you're happy in your union more power to you, but no way could i take something like that on a daily or even monthly basis.
seriously tho...it was a turn on.quint-all i can say is if i was in that kind of union i wouldnt last more than a couple nights. i can take physical cruelty for days, but mental cruelty like that guts me. if you're happy in your union more power to you, but no way could i take something like that on a daily or even monthly basis.
sigsauerprinces said:pure-nice...i liked it. oops-is it still smack then?
quint-all i can say is if i was in that kind of union i wouldnt last more than a couple nights. i can take physical cruelty for days, but mental cruelty like that guts me. if you're happy in your union more power to you, but no way could i take something like that on a daily or even monthly basis.
It was the first time, and an urge he assures me comes seldom. Special occasion sort of thing. Most of the time, our relationship is far too reciprocal to be featured in this thread.
But thank you for your concern; I agree, I don't have the fortitude to do this 24/7 either.
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2001
- Posts
- 15,135
Quint said to SSP,
//I agree, I don't have the fortitude to do this [undergo cruelty] 24/7 either.//
No one outside the Sade novels does or undergoes cruel erotic acts 24-7! It's fantasy material perhaps, like Story of O.
//Most of the time, our relationship is far too reciprocal to be featured in this thread. //
While the 'lone wolf' of either sex is appreciated, SMACK is not a concept linked with being a social misfit; or having an incapacity for relationships. Did you know Sade had and maintained several longterm friendships, in letter and in person, with women?
You're right, of course, that since there's an abundance of sweetness-and-light threads, "I gave my love a valentine," is not a featured topic for this thread, and there are already 1000 books, including a few good ones on 'relationship maintenance.'
Great story (account)! Escapes the dreadful triteness of common Lit 'bdsm' stuff: 'the flowing pussy as holy grail and my sweet master's gift.'
In 'real life,' though one doesn't discount the erotism of pain, the subtleties of mental cruelty are appreciated. Crude brutality finds a suitable home in fiction.
//I agree, I don't have the fortitude to do this [undergo cruelty] 24/7 either.//
No one outside the Sade novels does or undergoes cruel erotic acts 24-7! It's fantasy material perhaps, like Story of O.
//Most of the time, our relationship is far too reciprocal to be featured in this thread. //
While the 'lone wolf' of either sex is appreciated, SMACK is not a concept linked with being a social misfit; or having an incapacity for relationships. Did you know Sade had and maintained several longterm friendships, in letter and in person, with women?
You're right, of course, that since there's an abundance of sweetness-and-light threads, "I gave my love a valentine," is not a featured topic for this thread, and there are already 1000 books, including a few good ones on 'relationship maintenance.'
Great story (account)! Escapes the dreadful triteness of common Lit 'bdsm' stuff: 'the flowing pussy as holy grail and my sweet master's gift.'
In 'real life,' though one doesn't discount the erotism of pain, the subtleties of mental cruelty are appreciated. Crude brutality finds a suitable home in fiction.
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catalina_francisco
Happily insatiable always
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2002
- Posts
- 18,730
Hello SSP,
Hope nobody minds me asking a question in the dreaded smack thread.
I do not see mental cruelty in Quint’s story. What is it that makes this story so exceptionally mentally cruel?
To me Quint is performing her submissive duty and her partner is making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first in the relationship at least at that period of time. He was exercising his right and making sure it was only him who took his pleasure.
Francisco.
Hope nobody minds me asking a question in the dreaded smack thread.
I do not see mental cruelty in Quint’s story. What is it that makes this story so exceptionally mentally cruel?
To me Quint is performing her submissive duty and her partner is making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first in the relationship at least at that period of time. He was exercising his right and making sure it was only him who took his pleasure.
Francisco.
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sigsauerprinces
just a shot away from you
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2004
- Posts
- 437
catalina_francisco said:Hello SSP,
Hope nobody minds me asking a question in the threaded smack thread.
I do not see mental cruelty in Quint’s story. Why is it that makes this story so exceptionally mentally cruel?
To me Quint is performing her submissive duty and her partner is making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first in the relationship at least at that period of time. He was exercising his right and making sure it was only him who took his pleasure.
Francisco.
im not sure why that particular story struck me as so cruel. probably personal things going on right now in my life that are kind of mirrored by that story. it gets too personal tho so i dontn really feel like discussing what those things are here. suffice it to say i related to her wanting and needing something really badly and not getting it-for her in the story it was sexual release, but in my mind it was more than that, it made me think of something right now that im needing and not getting. it struck a chord, thats all.
quint-thanks for your reply andim glad your relationship mostly wouldnt fit into this thread
btw i wanted to tell you that this part of your story was pretty hot:He pinned her rough, brutal, first with the simple mechanical efficiency of his arms, then with his laugh, his eyes. It was his eyes that could have broken her--too brilliant to be sane. "You'd better yellow out, or I'll snap your fucking neck!" his whisper grated through an exquisitely angelic grin. She whimpered the word and was released.
reowr
Pure
Fiel a Verdad
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2001
- Posts
- 15,135
SSP on story: //pure-nice...i liked it. oops-is it still smack then? seriously tho...it was a turn on.//
This point keeps cropping up, and was formerly raised by Netzach.
Some of my attempts to answer were not well articulated.
Enjoyment/pleasure/orgasm are potent reinforcers. Provided they are used sparingly and insightfully in an overall context of tyrrany or cruelty, they further that project.
Where they are dispensed like chocolate syrup on ice cream, it's a different picture: Happening often, on occasions the bottom can partly predict and control, they become parts of a mutually pleasing episode--like a joint fuck--or perhaps an ongoing arrangement; situations I'd describe more in terms of sexual barter than imposition.
This point keeps cropping up, and was formerly raised by Netzach.
Some of my attempts to answer were not well articulated.
Enjoyment/pleasure/orgasm are potent reinforcers. Provided they are used sparingly and insightfully in an overall context of tyrrany or cruelty, they further that project.
Where they are dispensed like chocolate syrup on ice cream, it's a different picture: Happening often, on occasions the bottom can partly predict and control, they become parts of a mutually pleasing episode--like a joint fuck--or perhaps an ongoing arrangement; situations I'd describe more in terms of sexual barter than imposition.
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Pure
Fiel a Verdad
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2001
- Posts
- 15,135
Francisco said,
Hope nobody minds me asking a question in the dreaded smack thread.
You're always welcome, esp. since you tend to be on topic.
I do not see mental cruelty in Quint’s story. What is it that makes this story so exceptionally mentally cruel?
To me Quint is performing her submissive duty and her partner is making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first in the relationship at least at that period of time. He was exercising his right and making sure it was only him who took his pleasure.
I'm not sure I'd say there was 'exceptional' mental cruelty, but there was substantial, enough to sting.
Some of your phrasings are not incompatible with mental cruelty, as you seem to suggest: 'performing...submissive duty' 'making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first....'
You seem to suggest that SMACK is about cruel relationships, which have no overlap with conventional and structured, SSC BDSM ones. There is some overlap.
But the larger point is that SMACK focusses more on impulse, fantasy and act, than on ongoing routines, esp. those marked by pre-arrangements of mutual satisfaction. That said, it's never been claimed that (intentional) cruel acts are not ever performed in conventional bdsm relationship; they're just often honeyed over. Or disguised as punishment: "This inflicted pain is because you did..." as opposed to "This pain is because I'm aroused by it" (sadism). I'm aware that you don't personally flinch from using the term 'sadism' but it's not common in a good many dom/me's PR acounts.
Back to Quints account. Consider the following passage, among a couple:
//He pulled out, covered her ass with hot jets of semen, and the room was silent again. Quietly he got up to grab some tissue for her and she blinked through initial tears to smile at him. At least he would still give her some afterglow. The pleasure was denied, but surely he'd still give her that. She reached for the tissue---
---and the phone rang. Dropping the box to her side, he left to get it, and the tears began to fall.//
Mental cruelty is infliction of specifically mental suffering. In violating her hopes and expectations of 'afterglow', in spurning her again for a phone call, he's causing mental pain; enough to cause tears.
J.
Hope nobody minds me asking a question in the dreaded smack thread.
You're always welcome, esp. since you tend to be on topic.
I do not see mental cruelty in Quint’s story. What is it that makes this story so exceptionally mentally cruel?
To me Quint is performing her submissive duty and her partner is making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first in the relationship at least at that period of time. He was exercising his right and making sure it was only him who took his pleasure.
I'm not sure I'd say there was 'exceptional' mental cruelty, but there was substantial, enough to sting.
Some of your phrasings are not incompatible with mental cruelty, as you seem to suggest: 'performing...submissive duty' 'making sure she knows whose pleasure comes first....'
You seem to suggest that SMACK is about cruel relationships, which have no overlap with conventional and structured, SSC BDSM ones. There is some overlap.
But the larger point is that SMACK focusses more on impulse, fantasy and act, than on ongoing routines, esp. those marked by pre-arrangements of mutual satisfaction. That said, it's never been claimed that (intentional) cruel acts are not ever performed in conventional bdsm relationship; they're just often honeyed over. Or disguised as punishment: "This inflicted pain is because you did..." as opposed to "This pain is because I'm aroused by it" (sadism). I'm aware that you don't personally flinch from using the term 'sadism' but it's not common in a good many dom/me's PR acounts.
Back to Quints account. Consider the following passage, among a couple:
//He pulled out, covered her ass with hot jets of semen, and the room was silent again. Quietly he got up to grab some tissue for her and she blinked through initial tears to smile at him. At least he would still give her some afterglow. The pleasure was denied, but surely he'd still give her that. She reached for the tissue---
---and the phone rang. Dropping the box to her side, he left to get it, and the tears began to fall.//
Mental cruelty is infliction of specifically mental suffering. In violating her hopes and expectations of 'afterglow', in spurning her again for a phone call, he's causing mental pain; enough to cause tears.
J.
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catalina_francisco
Happily insatiable always
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- Jul 29, 2002
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You seem to suggest that SMACK is about cruel relationships, which have no overlap with conventional and structured, SSC BDSM ones. There is some overlap.
There is no suggestion or correlation implied with cruel relationships and SMACK. The question was an honest one; I simply do not see this as being mentally cruel, since SSP suggested that in her posting I was wondering where the connection to cruelty was coming from. I am not always on the prowl to pick a fight with you Pure, stop being paranoid, so now and then I am actually interested in a thread or a remark on a thread.
By the way I do not flinch at all from using the word sadism or sadist, I have often said I am a perverted sadist and proud of it. But to continuously use the same word every three sentences is just not a done thing in my world.
Now back to the story, this is where I am having difficulty with. To me the crying is not of mental cruelty but out of sexual frustration. Sexual frustration is fun to play with and I have never actually considered that it might be seen as being mentally cruel. I found the difference in perception between SSP and myself to be very interesting.
Francisco
There is no suggestion or correlation implied with cruel relationships and SMACK. The question was an honest one; I simply do not see this as being mentally cruel, since SSP suggested that in her posting I was wondering where the connection to cruelty was coming from. I am not always on the prowl to pick a fight with you Pure, stop being paranoid, so now and then I am actually interested in a thread or a remark on a thread.
By the way I do not flinch at all from using the word sadism or sadist, I have often said I am a perverted sadist and proud of it. But to continuously use the same word every three sentences is just not a done thing in my world.
Now back to the story, this is where I am having difficulty with. To me the crying is not of mental cruelty but out of sexual frustration. Sexual frustration is fun to play with and I have never actually considered that it might be seen as being mentally cruel. I found the difference in perception between SSP and myself to be very interesting.
Francisco
sigsauerprinces
just a shot away from you
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2004
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- 437
catalina_francisco said:
i find it interesting that you see her crying as out of sexual frustration-i didnt get that, or feel that way, at all. maybe this is another example of how women tend to attach more emotion to sex than men? i hate to generalize but it seems to be true in a lot of instances.
in the story yes she's turned on and really wants to cum, but when she gets upset its not about not getting to cum, its an emotional connection she's yearning for, and he's totally ignoring that, focusing on cumming. for example, even tho she didnt get to cum, she was still going to be ok if she could have a bit of afterglow-a bit of that feeling of closeness, that connection. but the phone rang and she was even denied that-and thats what made the tears come finally. the yearning for intimacy and affection, only to be given utter coldness and indiference instead.
catalina_francisco
Happily insatiable always
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Quint said:
This to me indicates the sexual frustration of it all. It is this passage that influences my thinking and my perception into seeing it not as being mentally cruel but being sexual frustration.
Francisco.
sigsauerprinces
just a shot away from you
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Quint said:
and this is the passage that illustrates my point, that even tho she hadnt cum, had he just held her a bit and given her some afterglow, some intimacy, she would have been alright.
it IS possible for us to disagree on what the story meant, right?
the thing is..even tho she wanted to cum, maybe even was desparate to cum, my personal opinion is that her getting off is about more than physical pleasure-its about being close to him, feeling close to him. intimacy. even tho thats unspoken. and being a girl (tho im not saying all girls feel this way, i think a lot do) i can totally relate to that, and thats why the story affected me the way it did. to be wanting that closeness and have it denied so coldly..to me, thats pretty mentally cruel.
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Kajira Callista
Empty
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sigsauerprinces said:
I would say my view was that it was just a general mind fuck. He knew what she was wanting and expecting, and gave it to her, just not in the way she was wanting....i kinda took it as frustrating both sexually and emotionally because she couldnt seem to accept that she was getting what she wanted because it wasnt the way she wanted it. Hmmm did that make sense? lol
