BDSM Survey Results

“Good Girls” and the Shaming Voice

My upbringing was filled with the rules and rites of being a “good girl”. I never questioned that I wanted to be a Good Girl and I knew, without a doubt, that being a Bad Girl was the worst thing I could be. I was terrified of being bad, and so I paid attention when Grandmother would launch into one of her good girl monologues.

My story is not all that unusual, sadly. Many of us were raised with the shame of needing to be a Good Girl but discovering that many of the rules were beyond our ability to enforce. “Be a good girl” was a phrase that caused me intense shame, for so many years.

I learned that I needed manners, because that was certainly part of being a Good Girl. My sisters and I were so polite that strangers made comments to Mother about it, “What beautiful manners for such beautiful girls!” “Good Girls say please” I was told, as I watched Nick (my uncle and older by 2 years) grab the cookie I was denied for my lack of manners. Grandma swatted at him with her baking spoon and missed, causing them both to share a giggle. He still got a cookie. The time spent writing thank you notes, wistfully listening to Nick and his friends romping outside. The time spent in a corner or being scolded for helping myself, not saying thank you or daring to be anything but smiling and pleasant, while watching Nick do all the things I was told were not Good.

“Good Girls don't yell” Grandma scolded, when she had giggled just yesterday when Nick slammed his fist on the counter, yelling that he was angry (because he called it horny instead of angry, ahahaha, so cute he was)! Mother yelled all the time and I dared to wonder out loud if that meant she was a Bad Girl, to which Grandmother came unglued.

Good Girls print neatly, though goodness knows I never could. I spent hours trying to print with the flowery neatness of what Good Girls should be able to do, and realized I was not really good at being Good. Good Girl's never lie, they don't argue or say anything 'untoward'. They smile sweetly and are calm, able to cook, clean and be 'pretty'.

As a young girl I would solemnly study my reflection, wondering if I was pretty enough to be a Good Girl, or if my nose was too big, my mouth too small. I did not say mean things to friends, and when they hurt me I would walk away, silent. I did not tease, name call or prank. I did not play, really, either.

Good Girls stay clean, unless they are told to go romp with their uncle and his friends. Scoldings for grass stained socks, then sent outside to play guns with the boys. The boys who barked at me, then joyfully teased me and bullied me into playing rough, taking dares and so it goes.

I was terrified of boys, who I told were rough and mean because they liked me. Bjorn, he must have liked me a lot, as he held me face down in the snow, throwing my book bag up in the tree, while I cried softly, hoping he would let me go before I died. Grandmother and Mother both assured me that throwing the bat at me, tackling me in gym (we were playing mash, not football) and the snow smothering were all just because he liked me. I stopped telling them about boys and their demonstrations of love.

That Bjorn, he never stopped. He showed me he liked me every day. He must have loved me as he gripped his hands around my neck, leaving a ring of blue. Funny, but when Mother took me to the doctor and he asked about the bruises and I told him, he didn't think it was my fault. He didn't tell me that Bjorn, who happened to be his son, liked me. He did yell at my parents, which scared me greatly though. After that Bjorn never touched me again. That was grade four.

I tried so hard to be a Good Girl. I said please, helped Mother and looked after my sisters. I tried to stay neat and to not let anyone see me as anything but sweetly smiling. I let mother do my hair and held my sisters close when the parents would fight.

Good Girls don't have secrets from their Mother. When I told Mother that Nick was always playing games that included naked privates and touching and that I didn't like those stupid games she told Grandmother. Grandmother had her call me to the phone where I was told to apologize to Nick. I did, because Good Girls apologize.

To be fair, mother made some small efforts to not let me alone with Nick after that, for a few months. The next summer though, I was back at Grandmother's cabin for a new round of Good Girl talks and trying to deal with Nick and his grabby friends. My grade 5 summer was spent trying to navigate the world of mean boys during the day and listening to Grandmother tell us about boys and their urges and how Good Girls don't let them touch, and Good Girls stop them from making bad choices.

When Mother moved us away I was told that Good Girls help their mothers. I tried. I worked to help buy food and babysit the sisters in the evening. I cleaned house and even rolled mother cigarettes. When Mother brought men home I was a Good Girl and figured out how to make the meal feed them too. When those men would eye up me and my sisters I would do what I could to make sure the girls were hidden away.

Good Girls protect their sisters.

No one told me what Good Girls could do when men 'dropped' quarters on the floor so they could look down my sisters shirt when she bent down to pick them up. No one told me what Good Girls do when Mother's men friends would shove their hand down my pants, clamp a hand over my mouth and whisper awful things to me. No one told me what Good Girls do when the date Mother arranged tried to have sex with me, or what to do when Mother 'gave me' to a guy as a 'companion' for his delivery trip up north. That was grade 10.

Now I know. My Daddy has taught me what a good girl really is. A good girl doesn't hide the truth to save your feelings. She is not responsible for anyone's actions but her own. Good girls can get as dirty and sweaty as they want, they can scream orgasms through a mist of tears (and he even encourages them to!) Good Girl's don't have to sit silent and frozen, accepting abuse. Nor do they need to feel shame for their feelings, their thoughts or their natural body.

In fact, my Daddy tells me that Good Girls are the same as Good People, with all the same rights and responsibilities, qualities and faults.

I am a Good Girl, because I am a good person. I don't smile and pretend I agree with you, but I don't say things to you just to hurt you. I don't give a flying fuck if you think I am pretty, or sweet, or demure and I own my sexuality, my successes and my mistakes.

Rope Making Fun

For Christmas Firm-Hand-Buddha made me a rope machine!  I ordered a tonne of yarn and have been chomping at the bit to get at making some jute.  I am a rope addict (as if calling myself aropedeevil didn't already give that away), and it was very hard to wait!  Finally, we had good weather (I actually got a sunburn) and I was able to try the machine out.

The first few attempts were TERRIBLE, resulting in kinky rope that felt rather bizarre, but after a few more tweaks things ran a great deal smoother!

As you can see, It was smooth enough that I was able to spend a weekend and spin a reasonable amount.  Note that the dark red, and the dark purple rope are treated.  The rest are still fuzzy and untouched. 

I am thrilled with this rope, but I admit, not everyone will like it.  It is single ply, which means even at 6mm, with 3 strands of 12 yarns, the rope lacks that hardness that many associate with rope.  This stuff is soft, alive and not for the faint hearted.  Single ply jute requires more love, more care, if one wants it to last.  But it is also incredibly responsive and sexy to have on your skin.  I may be a bit in love!

When I took a moment to quickly condition the rope, the colour darkened to reveal the rich undertones that make jute so damned special.
As soon as my bunny is feeling better I will be doing some body work to break mine in (purple is for MY BUNNY...)


For your amusement, here is the video I shot.  No go pro, so it is what it is.
Happy Rigging!

Loving Wax

As some of you may know, FHB decided that we simply needed to make low temperature candles for wax play.  This began a round of experimentation and learning, as neither of us has ever made a candle before.

Our first candles looked a bit rough but man, they were a blast to play with.  As you can see in the photos,
the labels are made from recycled paper!  To the right you can see the drippings on my sex girlfriend.  The wax melts at 124 degrees, which means that most skin types tolerate the wax being dripped onto them.

We began to sell the candles, as many who play with wax are purchasing paraffin candles and finding that the temperature of the dripping wax varies.  We had heard a few stories of burns and what not.  Our goal was to produce a sensual candle that could be tolerated by most skin types, and I think we succedded.

However... Feedback indicated that the colours were just not vibrant enough.  Some of the more S/m players in the community wanted a wax that was hotter as well.   Additional FHB was simply not happy with the way the candles looked.

So... We upgraded our molds, practiced, experimented with different candle dyes and voila!

As you can see the candles are much smoother, and the colours are much darker.  The candles now melt at 123-126 degrees, with darker candles being a bit hotter than the lighter colours.

I find these candles are still great fun, and we decided to make tapers, so that candles could be placed in suspension ropes, for predicament play.  Those candles looked AMAZING but there were some issues... Mainly they are very narrow, so they tend to curve from body temperature, which created some issues for use.

I managed to make it work though, and bunny found that the wax, dripping in the same spot over and over, was very HOT, as each drip traps a little more heat.

Here you can see bunny suspended (she is gorgeous, no?) and the candles are dripping away.  They fit nicely in the rope, but I think they need to be more wedge shaped, and perhaps dipped in a harder wax.

Here you can see the wax.  The red is so dark that it left red on her very pale skin.  Also, we didn't use oil, which tends to increase the risk of tinting of skin, as well as reduce the spread of the heat.  Using baby oil on the skin seems to allow the candle drips to spread their heat over a larger surface, reducing the risk of burns.  I was pretty happy with the colours, as well as scene itself, although we had an incident with wrist drop after this tie, my first experience with that. (and hopefully the last.

We are now making Three types of candles.
Sensual Pillars:
UV Black Light Pillars
BDSM Tapers

The pillars, which are all low temperature wax, melting at between 124 and 126 degrees.  These candles are easily tolerated by MOST skin types.  The UV pillars are so much fun!  They glow under blacklight!

You can purchase these at my store at www.aropedeevil.com  They are available in Green, Yellow, Orange, Red, Pink and Blue.  The Yellow and Green glow the brightest, but you can see in the picture above that the other colours also glow.

I am using an LED blacklight flashlight that I purchased on Amazon for $14.00, to use at the trade shows when selling the candles, but I have a bar light that we will install for this type of fun.  I think you could drip wax on your bottom with abandon, then write messages with the glow wax!

I am very ahppy with these.  The colours are bright, even without the blacklight.  (Note that the photo to the upper right is a mix of glow and regular wax)

These are some of our BDSM taper candles.  Note that these are HOT, burning at between 124 and 129 degrees.  Not for the light hearted, and the risk is greatly increased for injury.  Test by using at a distance of 18 or more inches above skin.  I suggest that these are used AFTER a barrier of low temprature wax is on the skin.  I cannot stress this enough: These candles are not 'low temperature'.  Use at your own risk, and please, take care.

Justice for Kinksters who are Sexually Assaulted

The Criminal Justice System in Canada has neglected violence towards women long enough. While there are laws that are specifically created to prohibit assault and sexual assault, there are also policies and procedures that work against bringing justice to those who are victims of assault-particularly sexually assault.

It is ridiculously difficult to find justice if you are raped, unless you are the perfect victim: one who was virginal, chaste and sweetly innocent, prior to being brutally attacked by an assailant who causes measurable physical harm and leaves behind forensic evidence. The perfect victim must also remember to run straight to the hospital to seek help, to file a report straight away, and to never contact with their assailant again.

Our current system is one of re-victimization, in which the few women who come forward are subjected to disbelief, judgment, interrogations, accusations, shaming, silencing and in the end still are unlikely to see their assailant placed behind bars.

If you are kinky, forget it. For those involved in any sort of 'alternative' lifestyle or activity, such as BDSM, Swinging, Polyamory, “kink” and so on, although files are opened and statements are taken, all too often the reward for braving the re-victimization of reporting intimate violence, is to be told that the charges will not be pressed, as the courts are unprepared to hear about BDSM, that consent in the context of these 'alternative' sexualities is difficult to understand.

Even when individuals do come forward to the police, reporting physcial, sexual and emotional abuse, they are likely to face stigmatization and unlikely to find justice. In a local study (Sumka 2016) victims reported that their cases were turned away by the crown, due to the inability of the criminal courts to comprehend consent in a BDSM context.

The BDSM community is not a few dozen people hiding in basements. It is comprised of adults of all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds, education and occupations. It is 25-50% of people that you know. There are workshops, socials, conventions in which people meet, learn, and explore various aspects of sexuality. There is a social network very similar to Facebook that is dedicated to these so called 'kinky' people. Dungeon events are held in this very city, very much in the open. Halls are rented, banquet rooms booked, catering arranged, and convention centres used.

It is estimated that between 100,000 and 200,000 adults between the ages of 21 and 59, here in the greater Edmonton area, engage in what could be termed as “kinky”, “alternative” or “BDSM” activities and/or relationships. These numbers are based on the Kinsey institute (which estimates that 25% of adults in that age bracket enjoy kinky activities) and Joyal & Carpenter 2016 (who completed a study in Quebec and found that closer to 45-55% of adults are “kinky”). With many studies reporting that roughly 25% of adult women will experience rape and 45% will experience Intimate Partner Violence, this means that our current policies are sending a very clear message to 45,000-90,000 women of the Edmonton Area, that their right to live their lives as sexually autonomous beings, free from assault of their person, is not being upheld, due to their sexual choices. These policies put the burden of their assaults upon the victim, for daring to choose to engage in sexual activities such as BDSM, under the guise that consent in these instances is too difficult to understand for the court system.

I disagree that consent is more difficult to understand from a BDSM context. I have never been asked by a non-kink partner what boundaries I have, what limitations I wish to put on our encounter, and I have yet to NOT have been asked the same by a BDSM partner.

Consent, you see, is understood as what differentiates kinky fun from assault. In the majority of BDSM communities, spaces, groups and conventions, Consent is NOT murky. SAFE SANE CONSENSUAL, RISK AWARE CONSENSUAL KINK are two common frameworks used in the BDSM community.

The generalized culture of BDSM, here and around the globe, includes active consent of one's partners. Only activities agreed to are engaged in, no additional activities are to be added. Everything is agreed to in advance. Checking in with one's partner(s) during an activity is recommended. These are some of the common practices in BDSM and other alternative communities that specifically address consent. There are negotiations, safe-words and discussions about boundaries.

Yet, the court is so embarrassed by the very idea that some consenting adults might choose to engage in spanking, flogging, or bondage, that if one is assaulted while engaging in these things, justice is denied to them. This refusal to educate the courts regarding these practices leaves vulnerable the many individuals who choose to explore these activities and lifestyles. Victims are assured that their right to their own body is superseded by the court's embarrassment over sexuality that does not resemble their own.

Worse, the blatant lack of accountability for assault and sexual assault in the BDSM community has sent a clear message to those who thrive on abusing others: Within the BDSM community they can explore their criminal deviance freely, without fear of reprisal. Every case turned away is an advertisement to those who enjoy beating, abusing and raping women “Hide here! The courts will not punish you!”

Many organizations are following the court's example. Without an arrest being made many will not prohibit (ban) these individuals from events. Who can blame them? If the CJS is afraid to stand up to these predators, how can we expect individuals to stand up to them?

I am here, speaking on behalf of myself as a victim of assault in the BDSM Community. I am here speaking as a woman, as a person who has the right to seek out consensual sexual experiences that have meaning for me, without giving up my right to being free of assault, molestation, harassment and rape.

TABOO Edmonton

We are at Taboo this year, with ASPECC (Alberta Sex Positive Education & Community Centre), at booth 125, come check us out!
15% of all sales are going towards the gender inclusive bathrooms at the centre!  We are also raffling off a basket to raise funds for SACE.

A Story was Written on My Heart

The epilogue was filled with hints of rope, friendship and connection.

The words within called to me, and my interest was piqued,

I wanted to know more.

Those first few chapters had some minor adventures,

a great deal of intimacy building,

and my heart swelled with the love of deep friendship just as my face pinkened

with the blush of flirtation and attraction.

Some pages were easy to turn. Those parts of the story were familiar

I was comfortable as those parts unfolded; the friendship grew.

Some pages were painful. There were villians and foes.

Yet still those pages were filled with support, mutual affection, respect.

A few pages were a struggle. The story left me confused.

They challenged my idea of who I am, my labels exploded.

Leaving me uncertain. Excited, but a little scared.

Those pages included growth.

The next chapters were like most stories,

filled with day to day normalcy, challenges, joys.

Except this story was mine, and each word was felt deeply.

My heart was filled with the words of this story.

Some stories are writing only on our skin,

To be felt in the moment, but not taken into ourselves.

Some are written in our guts, held there tightly,

with small parts being released at a time,

Letting us heal slowly and safely.

Stories like this, when written on our hearts,

Those we feel forever, remember always.

They impact us profoundly, become part of us.

They leave us forever changed.

When I noticed that the story seemed to be winding down

I panicked.

I wasn't ready for this story to end.

I refused to read any new pages,

instead rereading the old, clinging.

I was so sad, so stubborn.

I clung.

I was not the only one writing the story

My stubborn refusal to move forward

It made no difference.

Words kept being written, on my heart.

I wept.

I don't know if this story has ended.

Or if this was just book one of four,

or maybe just a very dramatic chapter.

I just do not know.

All I know is that my heart holds this story,

My thoughts keep turning to it,

re-reading it like the cherished book it is.

Feeling the shock of the absence of new pages,

the pain of loss.

No villains appeared in those last pages.

No drama happened between the characters.

Yet I feel the hurt, as if there was a villain.

I feel angry, as if I was hurt.

I feel shamed, as if I am the villain.

With nothing to point at, no one to blame.

This story stopped, here.

A Letter to Me

Dear Little Me

Sometimes I am overwhelmed with rage at you. I am so fucking angry at you. You always trusted the wrong people. You always let people use you, hurt you and hurt us. You were NEVER enough. Not strong enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not quiet enough, not polite enough, not fast enough, not once, not ever.

I am angry because it hurts. All those memories hurt. Memories of the lies you were told (and believed for so long), memories of Mom, sleeping in a drugged stupor on the couch while you tried to be the adult, care for your sis and yourself-you at the grand age of five. And Six. And Seven and so on. Memories of his yelling voice, slurred with drink and frustration, of her yelling voice, filled with hysteria and madness. Memories of his sad smile, her vindictive one. Memories of bad people hurting us, trying to hurt sis. Memories of abandonment, of chaos, of pain and loneliness. Those memories hurt, little girl. And they are yours yet you keep on spilling them to me.

I am angry because you love your parents still. You love them, and the mean grandmother and the cliché pedophile uncle. You love them, and that pisses me off. Hate them you stupid little girl. They are not worthy of love, you do not need them. They do not love you, yet you love them.

I am angry because you still today rationalize it all away. Blah blah blah, those poor bad guys didn't mean it, they were drunk, Mom was sick, it's not her fault, uncle was raised by HER that twisted, mean woman.. Blah blah. Not their fault, huh. Whose fault is it, little girl? Cuz it sure as fuck wasn't yours. Don't kid yourself, they made a fucking choice. They made that choice over and over and over and over. They are to fucking blame for what they did, quite making it sound like anything other than what it was. It was abuse, not some fucking mistake.

I am angry because you let them hurt you. Grandma's words are stones that were flung at you. “Good girls don't let boys touch them” is a bullshit phrase and yet you can still hear her words, see her face as she sat there, sewing and lecturing you all on the craptastic rape apologia message of what good girls do. Why do you let her stupid ass words have weight? I am angry because you told. YOU TOLD, and it made it worse. You knew better, but You told, and you were weak. You told, and got us in so much fucking trouble. You told, and the punishment, to be forced to apologize to him for tattling, broke something in us, and THAT little girl is on you.

I am hurt because your pain fills me any time I give it a chance. It clings to my skin, taints me. Your pain lingers in the air around me like an invitation to all predators near and far- LOOK AT ME!!! it screams, I AM VULNERABLE!! Your pain is a lump in my throat, a heat in my chest, a lead ball in my gut. Every single time I let my guard down, there you are. Waiting to give me this pain, showing me the hurt, making me cry for you because you never could.

Fuck... you never did cry, come to think of it. You were always wide eyed, pleasant empty smile. Why didn't you cry?

I am hurt because I love you. It hurts my heart that I can't go back and protect you, this big me as your big sister, your mother, your loving aunt. The thought of you, so little, so helpless, so fucking alone hurts me, child, because you are in my heart the way no one else can ever be.

I hurt because I love you, yet the day you thought your soul died never leaves me alone, instead fills me with pain, with fear that you will feel that again.

I love you. I love the compassion you show as you struggle to forgive those who harmed you, to understand the why's and wherefores of their reasoning when they did inexplicable evil things. I love the strength of you as you stood, terrified, in front of sis, making sure she was never hurt. I love the optimism you harbour, for what seems like no reason at all. I mean, what reason did you have to believe that they would learn, change, love you? Yet you clung, filled with hope for the future. I love that you believe. You believe in yourself and the world. Every time I stumble, angry or hurt, you are there. That small smile, eyes wide with that mix of wonder and pain, reminding me that there is beauty out there, pushing me to find it.

I love you little girl. I will protect you. I hope someday you will trust me to be here, keeping you safe, the way I trust you to be there, helping me to be strong.

~It's a journey... Thank you for being with me on it.

Personal Responsibility and Consent

Personally Responsibility is a popular buzz word in this site and in society in regards to consent violations (which we will not call assault or rape because we would not want society to see our community as one that has room for predators in it). Whenever a discussion regarding community policies about banning predators arises this buzz word will be brought to the table. Whenever talking about helping newbies navigate the community this phrase will buzz around.

Personal Responsibility. It is a beautiful phrase isn't it? On the surface is seems so empowering. Take responsibility for yourself and your own choices and actions. You can CHOOSE and then you get to live with your choice. Personal responsibility is the concept that we, as humans, cause our own actions and because of this we are morally and legally accountable for our actions.

It is a beautiful idea. I even agree with it. We DO need to own our shit, to take responsibility for our journey and not expect someone to do it for us.

Unfortunately this phrase has been perverted to mean that in turn, we cannot look out for our fellow man. That because we are each personally responsible for our journey that if we see someone about to step in a pile of doggie doo we should shut up and let them learn the hard way. And that, friends, is where this empowering phrase has become a buzz word.

It's bullshit. It implies that I DO have control over everything that happens to me. It implies that where I stand today is entirely of my own making. It implies that I am empowered in situations where I sure as hell am not. Saying that we should have personal responsibility is another way of saying that what happens to Jane or John is not my problem. And that is utter bullshit.

But I can only control my own actions, not anyone else's. There is fuck all I can do to guarantee my own safety while still having a meaningful life. I can exercise my own judgment, try to be aware of potential hazards and risks, and learn from my mistakes. For the most part, this will work to my advantage. Yet, there are those not so wonderful persons who do not follow these rules. I have no control over their choices, and sometimes they choose to cause others harm, for their own gratification.

Why is it then, that when a grown up enters the BDSM community we say that they need to have personal responsibility in lieu of US having the MORAL BACKBONE to ban predators and those 'socially awkward' persons who touch people without consent? Oh, Johhny? Yes, he is a known dangerous player, but we keep him in the community because who are we to judge? That newbie he scarred? He/she should have personal responsibility. Jane? We know she likes to penetrate her subs once they are tied up without their consent, but that is the subs fault.. he/she should have vetted her better and needs to take personal responsibility for his/her kink journey. Judy? She is new and we know she doesn't have a clue but hey... she'll learn the hard way.

Don't mistake me-I firmly believe that in order to evolve, be self aware and grow as a human and as a bdsm practitioner that personal responsibility is paramount to our journey. I try to look at myself and improve. I strive to be proactive in my life rather than reactive. I own my choices and I would like those around me to do the same. I suggest to newcomers that they not assume anyone has magical authority, to vet players, and to attend munches and socialize in order to meet others. I certainly do not suggest that they are passive in their journey. Empowering ourselves and encouraging others to do the same is wonderful.

But...

When we are talking about players in our community who are KNOWN to be dangerous, to rape and harm and to touch without consent the personal responsibility gambit is victim blaming. The person who SHOULD have personal responsibility did not and does not as we can see from their continuous string of violations. When he protect these people,(and yes when we turn a blind eye and a silent mouth to these known predators we are protecting them) WE are condoning their acts.

When we are talking about how new persons should be just left to figure it out on their own ("like we did") because they have to have personal responsibility we are being utter jackasses.

Having a group that polices itself (banning those that use the group to meet newbies to abuse play with, greeting in pairs to prevent mishaps etc) and welcomes newcomers, shares information with them and answers questions does not dis-empower the newcomer. It gives them the tools they need to be able to make responsible choices (or not, as they choose).

For those of us who follow PRICK (personal responsibility informed consensual kink) please, remember that personal responsibility is YOU looking at YOUR actions and owning them-not ME pointing at where you were not responsible or you pointing at me.  

Thank you Pride

I am so glad I volunteered for the Pride Parade here in Edmonton.
This was my first Pride Parade. Up north the city refuses a parade permit, and so far no one has fought it. I admit, it never occurred to me to take a role in this and help organize one anyway.
When I volunteered for the parade, I was still seeing myself as hetero, with a dose of being comfy with women and their bodies. I have, till now, been in long term, monogamous relationships with men. I did not volunteer for my own sexuality, but because I believe that sexual autonomy is a human right, that being able to take joy in your sexuality is part of being a healthy human being. I am passionate about sexuality.

The point was to support something that celebrates sexuality.
Then, I was there. Surrounded by people of ALL TYPES of sexuality. Working with people from all backgrounds, religions, lifestyles, genders, sexualities and oh my flipping gawd.. it was amazing.

I realized ... This parade is not just for those who identify as being part of the sexualities included in "quiltbag". This parade is for everyone.

It is for the very JOY of sexuality, that we each can walk our own path and find someone to walk with us. That we can express ourselves in a way that is fundamental to who we are, not in a prescribed way.
It is a celebration for the folk who have fought tooth and nail for the right to love in ways that fulfill them. It is pride in our bodies, pride in our relationships, pride in our gender, pride in our individual ways of expressing our sexuality.
This parade was for all of us. The parade advocates for public awareness that love, sexuality, gender-these things are fluid, they are personal and they are as varied as the colours of a rainbow, with the divisions between labels being a bit blurry. The parade advocates for honest and proud sexual education for children, for challenging societal views of 'normal', for creating space that is SAFE to stand up and say, "This is me. I love me.".
I was absolutely astounded by the church floats, the religious groups that came out to publicly support Pride. I was shocked to see TD, RBC, Home Depot, Winners and other large businesses not only taking part, but singing, dancing, and PROUD to be there.
There was close to a hundred thousand people there. It was a family friendly event with loot being handed out, people singing, laughing, smiling, cheering and demonstrating that sexuality is not something to be hidden, shamed, criminalized-it is part of humanity. That from whatever part of the spectrum you are on, be it highly sexual to asexual, be it from straight to gay, your sexuality is YOURS, unique to you and that is fantastic.

Thank you to the folk who made this event happen, to those who work so hard to ensure that it continues, year after year.

the Kinky Tree

The Tale of the Kinky Tree and a Helpless Maiden                                                                                          I walked through the woods, enjoying the soft rays of sun as they streamed delicately through the overhead branches.  Needles and leaves softly crunched underfoot as I walked.  Peaceful.  I inhaled deeply, wanting to smell the musk of the forest.  I froze, puzzling over a scent on the mild breeze.   Was it?  No.. surely not... I inhaled again, and smiled evilly.  Yes, indeed, that delightful scent was one I recognized:  arousal of a maiden.                                                                                                                                                                                           Softly I crept forward, searching out the source.  I moved gently through the trees, as soundlessly as possible, the scent drawing me, until I reached a clearing where I beheld a vision that momentarily robbed me of breath.                                                                                                                                                     In the clearing there was a Kinky tree.  At it's base a maiden slept, helplessly tied, waiting.

I gazed at her, the view pleasing me greatly, for some time before approaching.  Then with care I moved closer, breathing in the air that was sweetly perfumed with her scent, listening to the small sounds of contentment she made as she rested.  She was divine.  Her skin glowed, beckoning to be touched.  Her hair held the fire of the sun and gleamed as the breeze teased it to and fro.  Her body was dusted with the magic of the forest, stray bits of bark and leaf merely adding to her allure.  

My eyes roamed her body, taking in the soft curve of her legs, the adornment of her navel, the swell of her breasts, large enough to not be hidden by her graceful arms tied in front.  Her face, so delicate, the shell of her ear that begged for nibbling, the sweep of her neck... So inviting, so stunning she was.

I moved closer still, wanting badly to touch.. but first to wake this maiden, to enjoy the widening of her eyes, that sharp little intake of breath that comes with fear and anticipation.  So I leaned forward, my hand sweeping a stray hair fro her forehead and spoke softly.

"Hello beautiful"

Her eyes opened and met mine, but rather than a maiden filled with fear and surprise the eyes that met mine were filled with mischief and longing, a need that dropped me to my knees beside her.  Those eyes twinkled knowingly, a bit of mirth and a large amount of temptation peered at me between her dark lashes. 

"Hello beautiful, yourself" she said softly, laughter hidden in her voice, seducing me much more thoroughly than I could have ever hoped to seduce her.  I stared at her, enthralled, unable to help myself even as my lack of words amused her more.

Finally I gathered what little wits I had left, and breathing in her heady scent again I reached out until my hand was but a breath away from cupping her face.

"Would you permit me to touch you, sweet maiden?" I asked.  "My hand aches to know your skin."

She giggled, a musical sound that filled my heart and made things low down tighten with lust.  "I would permit you much" she said saucily "but helpless as I am why would you ask?"

I stared at her, bemused, and spoke the truth: "I have a need for you to desire the touch of my hand as much as I desire the feel of your skin".  My hand trembled as she smiled softly, her eyes darkening, and she whsipered "oh yes..."

My hand cupped her face, fingers caressing.  Her skin was soft and so very warm from the sun.  My hand slowly trailed to her neck, fingers tracing her features, then to the centre of her chest, fingers stroking the pulse in her neck.

"You are magic" I breathed.  My body began to thrum, desire for her filling me.  

My hands lightly caressed her arms a moment when suddenly I knew what I wanted.  I wanted magic.

I dropped my pack from my shoulders and grabbed rope, my quick motion eliciting the response I had originally sought-surprise and anticipation.  

I dumped rope out and began to make art of her, the tree and I.

I untied her legs, unwinding the rope and carressing her legs, kissing and licking the marks her rope had left.  My nails trailed along her skin, fingers moving upwards to her thigh, over her hip and resting on her waist as I admired her.  Leaning forward I kissed her, innocent enough a kiss, our breath mingled a moment as my hands pulled the rope around her waist.  

I leaned back slowly, the rope tightening, as I secured her waist and thigh.  

I let my fingers dance, sometimes lightly sometimes harsh, each motion eliciting small sounds from her that I echoed.

I used rope to lift her slightly, her head fell back with glee as she felt it, her body a mere breath from the ground.  I looped another rope to her free leg and secured that too, so that this forest maiden swung gently from the branch, leaves and bark falling to dust her skin. She lay there, peaceful and incredible, swaying.  I enjoyed the sight of her, held in place as she was, the beauty of her near overwhelming.  

As if she could feel me joy her eyes opened and she smiled.   Ahh that smile held mirth the way a glass does wine.  From the pads of her dirt covered toes to the ends of her fiery hair she was magic, laughter and light.  Helpless to resist I kissed her, both of us laughing as we kissed and she swayed.  "I am flying! She giggled breathlessly"                  "You are, dear maiden.  You are flying, held by my ropes, magic and the Kinky Tree.  Helpless is what you are now!" I teased layfully.                                                                                                     "Helpless am I?" She laughed.  "Kiss me.  Let me fly!"  As she lay in the embrace of ropes, tree and laughter I kissed her, explored her skin and her laughter and in those moments I fell in love with this forrest sprite, this maiden of the woods.  Her laughter, her scent, her knowing eyes spun their magic, leaving me as helpless as I had first imagined her to be.  It was glorious.

More Pictures and Videos of my adventure with this beautiful maiden:

 More videos of this on Fetlife

Community Shadows

Let's be honest...
Our community, out of past necessity, has some rules and bylaws that are predator friendly. Our need and desire to keep things on the down low to avoid public scrutiny has created a culture of victim silencing and permissiveness in which predators like this one have been able to thrive.

We are a tight community, for all of our bickering, cliques and politics.  We tend to circle the wagons and protect what we see as part of our group. We need to face the fact that predators will and do enjoy some of the current rules in place; rules that protect the perpetrators of abuse rather than protect against them.  Some of these 'rules' are formal, some are more implied by way of silencing techniques.

Examples:

"If it didn't happen here, we don't want to know about it"
I don't blame them.  There are legal liabilities to consider if group leads have prior knowledge that personABC is a predator and they go on to abuse someone they meet at one of that group leads' venues.  I wonder if refusing to hear of such reports will stand in a court as a defense against this liability?  This stance also limits the groups ability to establish a pattern of behaviour, which otherwise would be quickly apparent.  By refusing to hear any report on violence or consent violations that do not occur at your event you are sending an invitation to abusers to feel free to shop for victims at your event, providing they do not abuse them there but instead wait until they get them alone.

"You were in a relationship, so it doesn't count"
Attention all rapists, just make sure you are in a relationship with the person you rape.  Then it is ok. (NOT actually.  In 1983 Canadian laws changed to reflect that EVEN IN MARRIAGE rape is not ok).

"It has to be reported, in writing, to person xyz"
Information that was not shared until 15 years after the gossip about this person started.  Information still not clearly being shared with the community.  What happens when that is reported?  What if the person you are supposed to report to is the problem (not saying they are, I am just being hypothetical here)? Can it be anonymous? Is there a special form?  In my case I was told to be very brief.  Yet I know he was permitted the option to defend himself at length, and I was scolded for not agreeing to send my post to my abuser to read, and for blocking my abuser.

"You cannot mention this person's name in conjunction with the club name."
This is a great way to silence victims.  In this context is that claim legal?  Can you legally tell a victim of sexual assault they cannot mention that the person who assaulted them has a formal position in that group?
This is to protect the club's reputation, I assume.  Sadly, if things are not addressed sooner or later this will hit the public in a very negative way.  I shudder to think of what the post 50 shades media will do with information that rape culture is alive and well in the local scene.

"Be a grown up ,deal with it"
This is one of the nastiest little buzz phrases ever, implying that anyone who can't deal with their rapist/abuser/harrasser/stalker is a child.

"Do not out anyone"
(Even if they rape you, their privacy is more important than your safety and well being)


Like I said, some of this is formal rules, some not so much.  Things need to change.  Preferably before we find ourselves in the middle of a media shit storm.  We need to become stronger, to support victims, cast out predators and actually stand by what we preach-that Consent Is the Foundation of Whatever It Is That We Do.

TWATS: We need more TWATS

TWATS: Trust, Witness, Accountability, Truth, Support

Our Alberta communities are struggling right now; with people, groups, organizers and bystanders each adding their own perspective... Needless to say things are somewhat tense.

Accusations, blaming, defensive retorts, advocacy and debate appear to be focused on a very important but touchy subject -> Consent, predators, and violations.  So many voices (I see this as a positive thing even when I do not completely agree with everything being said), so many emotions.

We simply need more TWATS in our communities, to facilitate positive change and community growth. 

TWATS

TRUST We need to  have leaders who we can trust to help us navigate these changes.  Trust that all reasonable measures are taken to help our community be healthy, trust that our truths will be heard without blaming and silencing.

WITNESS When a survivor shares their truth they are bearing witness to the abuse they survived-by their very existence they show that their experience is true.  Every victim of abuse needs you to stand up and bear witness to what you saw, what you heard, what you experienced. 

ACCOUNTABILITY Our community is in desperate need of accountability.  Abusers and perpetrators of assault need to be held accountable for their actions.  The more 'authority' the person's position in the community carries, the more tightly they need to be held accountable-not looser.  We each need to be accountable for our actions.

TRUTH  We need to learn the truth about rape and abuse.  We need to speak the truth about the very minute risk of false reports.  We need to hear the painful truth of the experiences had in our community without seeking to blame anyone other than the perpetrator, without reacting defensively.  We need TRUTH, not personal attacks, name calling, victim blaming, rape myths, buzz words and finger pointing.  We need people to share their truth.

SUPPORT We need to support victims and survivors of assault, violations, abuse and harassment by HEARING their truth, by BEARING WITNESS to their pain, by advocating for positive change, being willing to support the choice those victims make in HOW they choose to cope with their abuse.


Let's see more TWATS, shall we, in our leadership, in our individuals and in our day to day kinktastic lives.

Problem Solving: How do we move forward?

My community seems to be tangled up in a rather significant problem: How to address community concerns regarding consent violation reports?

Unfortunately some of the more established groups and individuals are feeling attacked, defensive and thus are focusing on defending themselves.  Even more unfortunately this defensiveness looks an awful lot like rape denial-ism, mansplaining and victim shaming. 

Edmonton... we need to move forward.  We cannot do this unless we focus on solving the problem rather than figuring out who is at fault.  This is no different than any other problem-there are steps that can help us to climb out of this and into a stronger, more cohesive community.

First we need to acknowledge that there is a problem.
This seems to be a stumbling block for many.  Many just want to not have to endure the pain of change, to not admit that rape in BDSM exists (aside from CNC), to not risk outing an abuser, to firmly hold onto the myth that false allegations are common (they are not).

The sad but reasonable truth is:
-There are abusers in our community, just like any other community. 
-There are vulnerable populations in our community, just as any other community. 
-Our current way of handling things supports abusers rather than victims.
-Abusers often seek positions of authority.
-Victims are often silenced, shamed and dismissed.

These are not new problems.  The only thing that is 'new' is that our societal shift from "no means no" to affirmative consent has finally trickled down into our BDSM communities.  In 1992 Canada adopted affirmative consent into laws (Source). This change has been a slow and painful one for society, and is now taking hold quite firmly, and shifts the focus from victims to the perpetrators of assault.  This societal and legal change was not on a whim.  It is based on piles of research on assault, sexual attitudes, rape culture and fear response.  

So please, let us acknowledge that there is a problem, along the lines of "How to address community concerns regarding consent violation reports?"

Secondly: Identify the Problem
What are the community concerns regarding consent violations? This is a complicated question, with so many varied concerns.  I will try to include as many perspectives as I can.
1. Predators.  There are concerns regarding predators in our community.  There are a few names that come up consistently whenever abuse, predatory behaviour, rape or consent violations come up.  We need both a proactive and reactive way to deal with persons who demonstrate that they are abusers/predators.
2. Reporting.  There are concerns that if we report a person for assault, consent violations, rape, harassment, bullying and so on, that we will be accused of drama, told to grow up and deal with it, disbelieved and then shunned. 
3. False Reports.  There are concerns that people's lives will be destroyed over false abuse reports.
4. Publicity.  There are concerns that our dirty laundry will be publicized, making our community (and bdsm in general), our groups etc look bad. 
5. Loss of Discretion.  There are concerns that this type of conversation will lead to the loss of our anonymity. That good people will be outed, jobs lost, lives ruined.
6. Drama.  This are concerns about drama.  
7. Blaming.  Many are concerned that this will turn into a blame game.

Thirdly: Gain Support to Find Solutions to The Problem
Now that we acknowledge that there is indeed a problem, and we identify the many faucets of the problem, we need support in our efforts to find solutions to the problem.  This requires public awareness, forming of alliances, volunteerism, activism, and commitment.

Public awareness is already happening, with many shining a light on a problem that has been kept mostly in the shadows. (Fetlife posts, articles, word of mouth, blogs, fliers, workshops etc).  This is being done right now, in our community and many others.   
Some alliances are being formed, with volunteers, activists and other individuals and organizers stepping up to lend their support and work on being part of the solutions.

Fourthly: Brainstorming Ideas
There is no one magic solution to this type of problem.  This is really important to note-No Magic Solution.  Instead there are many things that we (as indivudals, groups, leaders, teachers, organizers, bystanders, victims, allies etc) can do to help move forward to a healthier place.

Some ideas I have heard so far include:

Public Awareness: 
-Continue to support those coming forward with their truth.
-Encourage those who are willing to come forward.
-Pointing out victim blaming when we see or hear it.
-Sharing factual information about abuse.
-Workshops on abuse and consent
-Inviting professionals to share with our community on topics about consent and assault. 

Community Education:
-Workshops and handouts on consent, yes means yes, boundaries, coercion, bullying, victim blaming, sexual assault, dealing with violations etc.
-Clear guidelines on what to do if you have a problem (if your consent is violated)
-Using safe calls, vetting, BSafe, safety spotter, public play etc and WHY.
-How to be told no.
-Clear guidelines on what to do if someone reports a violation to you.
-How to support victims
-Clearly defining the difference between personal bubbles and consent violations.

Mitigating Risks
-Self Defense classes
-Kink Safe practice awareness
-Establishing safety protocols
-Local Safe Call systems
-Recognizing Red Flags
-Personal Responsibility Workshops

Safe Spaces
-Clear rules regarding conduct
-Enforcement of those rules
-Ejecting persons who cannot follow 'do not touch' rules.
-Clear rules on reporting and handling reports
-Leadership Vetting (including open forums for community members to come forward with concerns about those seeking to be in leadership roles, higher standard of conduct rules for leaders, crim checks against assaults)
-Zero tolerance for harassment

Victim Support
-Allowing people to come forward and share their story
-Focus on support over blaming
-Education for community on victim blaming
-Access to kink friendly resources
-Sex Crimes Liason (Sargent Grimes would be a great one to talk to, and they ARE interested in being a part of a proactive solution, rather than merely being the ones to take reports AFTER the fact). 
-Help finding counseling, talking to the police, talking to a lawyer etc. 
-ending victim shaming techniques.

Abuser Supports
-Education on abuse, harassment, anger, bullying, coercion etc.
-Access to anger management, sex offender therapy etc.
-Support for those who actually meet the standard for rehabilitation (able to acknowledge their misdeeds, to take responsibility for their actions without shifting responsibility, desire to change, willingness to follow through with programs, successful completion of programs, NO FURTHER ABUSES. 

Finally, Putting it in Motion
Some of this is already being done.  One of our group leads has offered free self defense classes, kink safe workshops and is clearly refusing access to their events to known predators. Another bunch are organizing a workshop on consent, a round table on consent and another are finding community resources to help with this issue.  

Want to be part of the solution?  Get involved!!
 


 

If it walks like a predator, talks like a predator....

I wasn't ever going to write this. I have a list of reasons why keeping quiet is the best of choices.

* Some of you are going to point out what I should have done.

* And a few of you will back away from me so that my truth doesn't somehow tarnish you.

* The resulting shit storm will hurt me, hurt others who have had similar experiences, hurt my loved ones

* I don't want to relive this-not any of it

* I am tired of being asked victim blaming questions.

* The person that assaulted me is sometimes an angry, loud person and I don't want to deal with them.

* I don't want to be uncomfortable in the community spaces

* I don't want this type of attention

* It still hurts, I don't feel like hurting any more.

* There will be people who make disparaging comments, disbelieve, doubt, blame and otherwise add to the problem and I don't want to know who, of all my friends, will do these things (ignorance is bliss).

* Talking about this makes me feel like crap. I am a positive person, I just want to move past it

* It wasn't rape, so according some some I cannot call myself a survivor-I am forever to be a victim and that type of 'I was hurt worse' pisses me off

* I didn't yell, hit, fight, scream. (And I still strongly feel I should not be required to).

* I don't want the drama

* When I tried to share this with someone I really respect, they were of the opinion that 'not (so and so)! He's (not like that, wouldn't do that, valuable to the community, I've never seen that from him)

* Thanks to the few I initially approached, and their advice to just keep quite, deal with it myself, not cause a stir, to be understanding, to just avoid this person, I already know that this person's privilege is larger than my own. (They are being grated the privilege of acceptance and support of the community while I am told that my safety is my problem. They have the shelter of the community while I apparently do not)

My list goes on and on, all these reasons to keep quiet about what has been going on. More and more I was hearing stories of this particular individual. More and more I wanted to know why this person was being allowed the shelter of the community in which they behave this way. Then I started hearing more and more personal truths from other victims who have fun afoul of this person. I started to really discuss this problem with a couple of people (Firm-Hand Buddha of course being one). All of my reasons are bullshit. I am already being told what I should have could have done, I am already being asked victim blaming questions. Every time I have to see him or deal with his crap I am forced to relive every assault and feel the hurt and fear and panic all over again. I am already uncomfortable in our community spaces because of him. So forth and so on.

So.. it is with tears, a pounding heart that I am reversing my stance on this.

Because I finally get that my silence is just as bad as the communities silence and acceptance. My silence feeds the silence of the next person and the person before.

My silence adds to the problem. So Fuck That. I will be silent no more.

### My Truth

Although the first inappropriate comments started years ago when I was still married, at the (3^rd?) event hosted by a large Edmonton group, I am only going to share the details from the last three years. The person I am talking about has had various positions in the community that lend him perceived authority, and implied respect of some leaders in our local BDSM community. This person is male and a self proclaimed dominant. I do not hang out with him. I have never dated him, never played with him, never asked him for play, instruction or social time. I have never flirted with him, never cast coy glances at him. I am polite to him (usually, unless provoked). I have no idea what about me makes him feel comfortable doing these things. I am not naming this person, but I know from previously sharing my experience without names or identifying details that MANY of you know exactly who I mean, and that is part of why I am speaking up... Because statements like

“Oh, you mean XYZ? Yeah, we all know he/she is a predator” are part of the issue.

2012

This person approached me while I was waiting outside of a workshop for my Sir. In a loud boisterous tone he demanded to know why I wasn't in the workshop, throwing his arm around my waist and grinning. I explained I was waiting for my Sir, and moved away from him. Rather than letting me go, he tightened his grip. Told me to 'not be silly' and to 'get to class', making a motion as if he was going to usher me into class. I was not impressed, turned and moved away from him, saying something about waiting for FHB. I didn't think anything of it. As an isolated event it is minor and easily explained away. He is, afterall, involved in some way in the event, the leaders all speak to him, he was just being friendly, (albeit a bit aggressively). I felt uncomfortable but being a good sport I tried to pay it no heed. I do know it bothered me enough that I mentioned it to FHB when we saw him in the hallway (That's the guy that demanded I go into the classroom).

2013

I had just had a wonderful play scene at a public play event with my Sir, FHB. I do not remember exactly what was going on, but I was pretty sub space glowy. FHB asked me to grab the cleaning supplies. I was not dressed, as our scene was just wrapping up. As I went to grab the supplies from the dungeon table, this same person grabbed me, arm around my waist snugging me into their side. “When are WE going to get the chance to play?” he asked. This person was in the DM Vest, and I can still feel it pressed against my skin, the cold material pressed against the side of my breast. I don't remember what I said. Something along the lines of a No (No? HAHA NOT? NEVER? Not EVEN?). I stumbled back to FHB with the cleaning supplies. I am not clear when I shared with him what had happened. I do know I had no idea what to do. He was a person with 'power'. He touched me. He touched me while I was nude and still basking in my partner's touch. He touched my body, and I still don't understand why.

I was understandably upset. Up until that moment I had believed this space was safe- I thought it was a safe place to be naked, to play with my Sir and give myself to the moment. There are rules. Don't touche what isn't yours.. Don't touch. Don't touch me.

He touched me.

I felt wrong. My skin was wrong, my brain was wrong. I felt as if I had done something terrible. I don't usually need a whole bunch of aftercare from play but I certainly needed it that night-but not from the play. There I was, having been beaten, paddled, flogged-tormented until I was a sobbing mess of sensation, begging nonsensically, and I didn't need aftercare for the scene, but *I was an utter mess that this person, this guy I barely new had felt it was ok to touch my naked body.* Naked, my own dampness still between my legs, FHB's bruises fresh on my body, and THIS MAN touched me. Why? Why me? What can I do to make sure this doesn't happen again? He touched me...

FHB and I left. We cuddled and talked and I was just... stunned. It felt (and still feels) surreal. Why the fuck would someone do that? Someone that damn well knows better, yet touched me, when I was not even done with my scene, while I was naked and demanded play? Why? FHB was beyond shocked. In this community there are protocols. You don't just grab someone else's LIVE IN 24/7 submissive. In ANY community grabbing a nude person who is in the middle of an intimate moment with someone else, is just not fucking done.

When we shared this with our friends they didn't have any suggestions, although they certainly didn't stand up for that man's actions.

Understand that this impacted me greatly. FHB and I are still talking about it, two years later, though, because this changed things. I rarely get naked in public play spaces now. NEVER if this person is around. If we are playing at a public event and I hear this man's voice, I am done.

We lived out of town, so it was at least a month before we came back. And I was nervous. Not that good kind of 'doing something new or hard' nervous-but that sort of alert nervous that you have when you are in danger.

The next few events I attended where he was he didn't even talk to me. My guard went down. I started to believe this was an aberration in behaviour and that it would be ok. I even did business with this person when my friends (who new of the above incident) recommended we speak to this person about a play item we wanted made.

Big Mistake.

I had sent the specs via email, but Email wasn't good enough for this guy. It had to be a phone call although I was clear that I am not comfortable calling, he INSISTED. I gave up and took the matter to my Sir. FHB handled the call.

This person still mocks me about this, and has shared my anxiety attack over phone calls with others. FHB took over the transaction, as I just... couldn't. This fucker was triggering me all over, and getting a kick out of it.

See, he has already demonstrated he has no respect for my boundaries in a variety of ways. Touching me without invitation (first time, can write off and I was dressed, second time wtf?), demanding that I disobey my D/s partner when he full well understands what a power exchange is, demanding I call him and then, when I share a personal detail, that calling strangers gives me huge anxiety, disclosing that information to others. I already am very uncomfortable in a room with this person. I am already afraid of what they will do next.

2014

I can't share all the details because to do so clearly outs who this person is, which is against FL policy, but this person demonstrated that they cannot be trusted with a community responsibility they had, which actually soured both FHB and I towards volunteering. He demonstrated that he is unethical. Period. We were absent for some months after that event, in preparation for our move

Then we moved here and were attending more munches and meets.

This same person would demand hugs (I'd decline) and they are loud and petulant about it. “What? You won't hug me?” Then they would thankfully ignore me. I have heard them do the same to others.

Then, at one munch in fall, when I was walking to the social area with FHB, this person walks up, grabs me around the waist and spins so we are now facing FHB, who has THAT look (the what the fuck are you doing look). I have my hands held up and away in that universal “I am not touching this person” pose as this guy squishes me to his side and jovially tries to converse with FHB. After a moment, when it became apparent this jerk wouldn't let me go, FHB took half a step forward and this guy drops his arms and greets someone else and wanders off, leaving FHB and I staring at each other in a moment of shared disbelief.

We immediately talked about this. FHB offered to deal with this guy, but FHB and I both realize that that if he intervenes that this jackass will not be likely to leave me alone when I am not at FHB's side. Wanting to not need a man to protect me (wtf, is this the 17^th century?) I chose to try to deal with this guy myself.

So later that mumch, when the guy sat by me I asked if he had a moment. I said, “please, just stop grabbing me.” He stomped off muttering about how I must wish he'd grab me. I was hopeful that this time he got it loud and clear. I felt a bit wierded out by how everyone just pretended nothing had happened.

The next few meets, no problem. He was back to ignoring me which suited me just fine.

Then, I was running a class. This person wanted to attend. They were aggressive in their phrasing that they wanted a partner for the class. Although I had clearly stated that they did not need a partner, and I had clearly stated the address for class, He kept insisting that I call him, bringing up with derision my aversion to phone calls.

By now I have been hearing other tales about this person. MANY. At least a dozen females have shared their stories of this 'gentleman' violating their consent, invading their personal space, aggressively demanding play or sexual acts. Some of these cases are clear cases of assault. (for any curious, grabbing me while I was naked, while this person had authority in the space we were in is a clear cut case of assault. He touched me without my consent)

Frustrated, I emailed him, refusing to call. I clearly stated that I was also not interested in providing him with a partner, nor describing the persons available to partner with. I made it clear I was not impressed with his instance that I call, either.

He was very hostile about it. Claiming he did not have the address (which was in the same thread he responded in). He never did show and I was so very damned grateful for this.

Then, less than month later at a munch, I am sitting on a small bench and he sits beside me, pressing his entire fucking body into mine so that my entire right side is touching his. He does this with enough aggression that I actually have to brace myself in order to maintain my upright position.

I am pissed. I am fucking tired of him touching me, grabbing me, demanding I hug him, and being a fucking prick and a half. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of moving. I maintain the most neutral expression I can, feeling a flashback to being a child of a parent with a pretty nasty personality disorder and having to always have an empty smile or else shit got nasty. I remain calm on the outside. I am not even sure what he said, I was so focused on being calm, on not giving him a fucking inch.

When he left, demanding I come speak to him (can't explain way for the same reason above) a dear friend was all “wow, you two are getting along”. I explained my reasoning. Maybe, seeing as my shock, my fear, my feeling of terror were not getting anywhere, seeings as 'no' doesn't work.. perhaps if I ignore it. I was not very optimistic, but was running out of things to try. By this time I had already broached the matter with the group lead, asking for advice of how to deal with this kind of crap and was told, “We are adults, we should be able to sort this out ourselves” (And I even agree, but all parties have to behave like adults for this to work-and this guy is not behaving like an adult. He is behaving like a two year,. Touching anything he wants and not listening when told no). I was really wanting to believe that this would be the end of the problem

I stopped going to munches. I even made excuses to not attend a couple of events we knew he'd be at. I missed out on a private gathering because he was at it. I began to withdraw from the local scene and focused on my own rope club and enjoying my time with friends who are very consent orientated. I hated it, this evasion of the community activities, but hey... a gal has got to look out for herself.

2015

Not two months later at yet another event I was with FHB and two others. I was kneeling on the floor passing them things. Suddenly someone is pressed to my back, their hand wrapped around the front of my throat, holding my throat and the side of my face. I started, jerking and heart beat going.

I am fighting serious panic reflex-this is a serious fucking trigger for me that FHB had (we thought) gotten me past with his gentle perserverance and by respecting my limitations. In that moment, with this strange hand touching my face, holding the front of my neck, a strange body looming behind me, I was beyond reason. Everything seems fragmented. FHB started to stand, the girl beside me moved towards me. Then the guy was gone. No hands on me, no touching. Just a voice all casual as he moved away, babbling about a shelf or something. It was him, and he was (so I am told by FHB and the lady with me), that he was moving in to kiss me. WTF!!! We all sat there stunned for a moment. Then arms I trust were holding me (FHB? My lady friend? Not even sure which). Freaked me out in ways I have no words for. I don't remember how we got from there to the event portion of the evening. I do know I was pretty glued to FHB's side for the rest of the event.

I spend the entire event muted. Every room I entered my heart beat went up and I scanned for this guy. I didn't want to go anywhere without my Sir. (some will remember that I did not fare so well with that, as FHB ended up trapped at the house with a dead furnace the next day). I was scared to go back to the area this guy was in, even though I was supposed to be keeping an eye on things and had responsibilities there. I pretty much handed those off to my lady friend and did everything I could to avoid this SOB.

We went through the motions. We did not want to feed into the already drama laden event with it, so we tried to just function around this. At no point in this event did what happened leave my mind. FHB and I discussed our plans and how to mitigate this guys bullshit, and decided I would certainly not be nude around him. (and of course during costume changing, who should come hang out right beside us? I had to change in the bathroom as if I was shamed of my body). I turned down play and rearranged some play so that I could minimize how much impact this guy could have on me. I struggled with the two scenes I was in, to stay focused on the bottoms I interacted with, because his voice in the crowd would throw me off. (Apologies to those who noted, if they noticed, this difference).

The last night of the event this person then spoke to me like nothing had happened. They acted as if we were buddies. This left me disorientated and terrified. If they can't even see that what they did was fucking wrong as hell, … I have no words.

I have since emailed this person, stating that I and FHB need him to stop touching me, regardless of the context. He replied that he has no idea what I mean, that he has not touched me, regardless of the context, but that it won't happen again.

I don't believe him.

Recently we went to a small gathering, and there he was. I sat next to my partner, tried to ignore him. After an hour he started the rounds, moving slowly closer to where we were. He has this skill of appearing reasonable when he is actually gas lighting. He asked me to help him grab a desert that was on our side of the table. I did, smiling my blank stare. FHB was instantly on high alert. We gave up. We left.

I hate to admit it, but I am simply not going to go to anything he could be at. We (FHB and I) switched which events we go to. We spend more time at one group due to having pals there, but I cannot continue like this. I cannot sit there pretending to be ok, getting more and more bitter by the moment. So now we are hanging out elsewhere. In places we know this 'man' won't be. We are not ever going to play in the events this person attends. I cannot see us going to munches that this person frequents, or presenting at events they have authority in.

No, he didn't rape me.

As someone who has survived rape, both the violent media worthy kind and the more common wasn't a stranger but he would not take no for an answer kind, I can tell you this feels just as horrific as any other situation I have been in.

This person is smart. They know how to manipulate others to being their support. They have 'done so much' for the community, you see. They volunteer, they have 'cred' because of it. They have perceived authority, from their volunteerism, their positions in the community, from their 'mentoring', from their age and the length of time they have been welcome in the community. They know how to gaslight. They change up their approach, giving you just enough time to think that it's safe now, that maybe you imagined the slimy-ness of their actions before. Then they do it again. They have built a little support group for themselves, so that when people like me are upset by their non consensual touching, grabbing and sexual bullshit they can count on their friends to have their back, leaving their victims cast out of the club.

But do you know what? I am ok with that. If my truth is unwelcome at your group, so be it. If you feel the need to defend him and tell me to 'suck it up', that is fine. I choose me over him. I choose my peace of heart over attending events he is at. I choose self respect over presenting at events he helps with. I choose these things. And because the only way I can be sure that his hands, his body, will NEVER EVER FUCKING touch me again is to not be around him ever, then so be it.

You see, I never know, when I enter a BDSM event or gathering, if this guy will be there. I never know what I will get when he is there. Will I just be ignored? Will I be grabbed again? Will he again mock me, make sexually aggressive statements? Will he approach someone I care about and do the same fucked up things? I try to prepare myself, so that I can do all the wonderfully aggressive things that so many well meaning people insist I do.

But in those moments, I am too fucking shocked, too triggered, to do much. I am having bad dreams, I am struggling now with intense anxiety. I have struggled with my school work, with my many projects and responsibilities and now I am just starting to figure out that the assault and harassment this guy has sent my way has a great deal to do with my less optimistic, defeated self. I don't have any fight to give him.

And guess what? I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO DO ANYTHING because he should not fucking do these things. My sitting there is not an invitation. My naked body is not an invitation. I am not doing any fucking thing wrong, why is it up to me to smarten this guy up? Please, explain to me how it is my personal responsibility to put up with his shit or to make him stop.

### Advice on What I can do? No thanks

I know that many of you who have offered me advice on how to stop him next time mean well. I know you speak from your heart. I love you for it.

I don't think telling me how to address this next time is appropriate. There should be no next time. Hell there shouldn't have been a last time or the times before.

When you tell me, “you should do/say xyz” you are implying that this continues to happen because of MY behaviour. This is not so. I have watched other people yell at this guy, telling him to “FUCK OFF” or “IN YOUR DREAMS”. Yet, they still receive the unwelcome attention of this person. I have yet to see this type of predator respond to 'fuck off' or yells of red. They have support, they know how to manipulate things. Look at what happened-you are telling me how to not be assaulted, rather than telling him how to not assault. I can't control his choices-and I should not be expected to.

I am not the one responsible for his actions. My own personal responsibility in this situation is exactly as follows:

* The first time, in saying no. Which I did. And was ignored.

* To do what I have to, in order to be safe. I am. I will be leaving any event he arrives at or attends. If I cannot leave, I will ensure I am not EVERY alone with him and leave as soon as able.

* To not be part of the problem. I am not longer silent about this. I will not be part of the problem by remaining silent and pretending what he is doing is 'not a big deal'.

* To talk to the Person In Charge. In three of these cases he WAS the person in charge. Additionally I did try to talk to persons with equal or greater positions. I was advised to figure it out myself. To not 'cause drama'.

My 'personal responsibility' does not include being required to govern his behaviour with violence of word or action. This shit is not my fault and I am absolutely not taking responsibility for his harassment of me, or his behaviour towards many, many others.

PS: IF you are the one who did these things to me, shame on you.

No, it is too late to call me. Too late to message me, too late to email me and talk about this. I tried. I tried to be 'understanding'. I tried various tactics in order to mitigate the harm you did me. And I say, FUCK THAT. I don't want your apology. I want to never interact with you again. EVER. If you can't respect that I am going to seek an order to ensure that you do respect that.

Want to fix this? Then take a look at yourself.

I am actually a strong, independent, intelligent and caring person. You hurt me. You, over a period of three years have demonstrated a pattern of abusive and predatory behaviour. You ignore personal boundaries, (reasonable to thus believe you would violate BDSM boundaries as well). You touch me without consent. This occurs more often when you have been having a drink or (two?) and that does not fucking excuse you. You feel as if all the persons telling you no and pointing out your shit are being asses to you rather than to face that YOU DO THIS. YOU touch without consent. YOU ignore 'no'. YOU are inappropriately aggressive in your pursuit of gratification at the expense of others. YOU hurt people.