514. More Thoughts on D/s in the BDSM Community

Although I haven’t been writing, I have still been attending munches for local BDSM groups (we have tons).

I have to say that a lingering note of interest to me is the absence of D/s.  It isn’t taught. It isn’t talked about.  It is rarely practiced.  In many ways, it is treated as if D/s doesn’t exist.

Why not?

Over the years (and before my return to the local scene) I have spoken to many people, especially couples practicing D/s, that have attempted to join up with their local scene only to find that what they do doesn’t fit in with what is going on within their BDSM community.  They go a few times, feel like outcasts, and stop going, preferring to use the internet to find other groups to socialize with and/or seek guidance/council.

With this in mind, I don’t believe that the absence of D/s is a localized phenomenon.  What is also bothersome is that I have heard a total of zero stories from people telling me that people within their local community took an interest in what they were doing.  If communities (and the people within them) are open-minded, inclusive, hungry for knowledge, and seeking understanding, you would have to believe that there would have been some exchange along the lines of, “What you are doing is something that is new to me, would you please explain it so that I can better understand it?”

The more common story I have heard from others, is a style of exchange closer to, “What you are doing is not like what I am doing.  You should be doing it the way that we do things.”

Since the fall, I have attended nine different local BDSM groups and what I am finding is that it’s not as if the local groups are closed-minded, they merely work from a very fixed and somewhat narrow view of what BDSM entails.  It’s actually rather strange, because most of them are extremely inclusive:  Gay/bi/straight?  It doesn’t matter, welcome aboard.  CIS/transgender/transitioning?  It doesn’t matter, welcome aboard.  Monogamous/poly/asexual?  It doesn’t matter, welcome aboard.  Dom/sub/top/bottom/switch/any role you can think of?  It doesn’t matter, welcome aboard.

However, when you start talking about D/s, confusion often surfaces.

Them: “So what you do is like consensual-nonconsent?”

Me: “Sort of like that, but on all the time.”

Them: “I don’t understand.  Like, you mean until the scene ends?”

Me: “There is no scene.  It is on all the time.”

Them: “What?  What do you mean there is no scene?”

Basically, when I talk to others, I find that most of them have a definition of BDSM that is so fundamentally different than mine that it becomes difficult to bring them to a place of understanding.  It’s almost like practicing D/s as a lifestyle falls completely outside the scope of what they can imagine.

I wish that I had a magical analogy or comparison to use that would make this barrier easier to work through.  As things are, it feels as if there are so many layers to peel back first:

• Only engaging in D/s with a primary romantic partner vs. playing with various play partners.
• Having varying degrees of dynamics and protocols that are active at all times vs. negotiated temporary intervals.
• Achieving (intangible) emotional and psychological gratification through a power dynamic vs. the (tangible) physical gratification of play.
• Finding comfort in deep vulnerability vs. having layers of protections in place.
• Agreed upon asymmetry between dominant and submissive vs. expectations of mutual, relatively equal benefit or pleasure.

I’m not sure if there is an “easy” way to contrast all of these differences in a singular example.

I definitely intend to write more upon this subject in the near future, but I figure that getting something out there again is better than leaving this as an unfinished draft.

• Femdom