BDSM 101; Little Monkey's completed examination paper

BDSM 101

End of Semester examination paper

Answer all questions

Time allowed: 90 minutes

I've added my responses in Blue.

Section A

1. RACK or SSC?
a) What do these acronyms mean? Explain in detail.
b) Why are they important?
c) What are the advantages and disadvantages, strengths and weaknesses of each?
d) Which do you adhere to? Justify your decision.
Risk Aware Consensual Kink, and Safe, Sane, and Consensual are important in BDSM because they give a framework and weight to the ideas of awareness, safety , and consent. While I perceive that SSC is more popular in general, I think it is perhaps the weaker and most open to interpretation of the two. RACK allows that some of the things we do are inherently risky. It counters that with stressing awareness ( knowledge of consequences and the "how to" knowledge, the safest way to be risky). The wording of SSC bothers me. "Sane" is so subjective. Who gets to say what I do it sane or insane if they are not me? It's too much of an arbitrary standard for my taste.  I adhere to RACK because some of the things I like are things i know to be potentially risky, but feel that with an "aware and knowledgeable" partner the benefits those pursuits outweigh the risks.
2. Trust is key to any BDSM relationship. Give an example from your own experience of where trust has broken down and describe the consequences.
After 10 months of what i thought was a very rewarding, burgeoning D/s dynamic with my husband , he told me in a moment of fuck you bitch that he didn't like me submissive. He liked me better the "way I was before". Why the hell let me go on for so long thinking it was working  for both of us? Why tell me he loved it? Even his behavior reinforced my belief he was loving it up to that point. I guess it got to be too much work on his part, I don't know, he never was able to explain his reversal, although he has tried to take it back since. The vulnerability of opening up to him, and working so hard at it in the first place, had been monumental for me. For him to use that to intentionally wound me was stunning. I will never trust him again and after 31 years of marriage went online to find someone else to fill that need for me.  
3. Overheard at a munch. "In the end it is all about sex isn't it?" What do you think he meant? Was he right?
I think sex is a powerful, powerful motivation, for all of us. It underlies everything. I don't know that i can explain my ideas about this in my 90 minute time period. It is all about the sex but for me at least i think there is something else that I'm not sure I can separate from sex. David SAW me, and accepted me, all of me, exactly the way I am. THAT is a sexy powerful thing. W never looked until I pushed and them he rejected what he saw. It's not even the acceptance, though that is part of it. It's value. David (and F) valued the complete me. The sweet me, the dirty me, the sexual me, the cranky me, not just the public me. You get the idea  That for me is what BDSM is all about. Without that the kinky sex is just sex. Nothing wrong with just sex, but I want more. 
4. Sarah and James were in a close BDSM relationship for 5 years. Sarah suffered from bipolar disorder which was mostly controlled through medication. Before meeting James, Sarah used to self-harm, often through cutting herself. Whilst in the BDSM relationship with James she no longer felt a need to do this. Their BDSM play was somewhat extreme. It involved needle play, stress bondage positions and heavy beatings including use of a whip. Eventually the relationship broke down. Some months later Sarah went to a police station with her lawyer. She claimed she had been restrained, whipped and beaten by James and although she acquiesced at the time, that because of her mental condition she was unable to give informed consent. She showed photographs of scars on her back and breasts. How should the police respond?
I am bipolar. This is deep water here. There have been times in my life when I probably shouldn't have had the keys to my own life. The compulsions to behave in certain ways can be impossible to resist, literally impossible, without medication, support,  and training. But while I was unable to stop myself sometimes, I always knew when behavior was a bad idea, I just didn't care.  So, consent, hmm, that's a tough one. I think in today's world , if she admits to consent, then he shouldn't be prosecuted. Ultimately it comes down to the character of the person you interact with.  A person can have a mental illness and still take responsibility for their actions. If you were not coerced or manipulated into consent, then it is less than honorable to accuse someone else of wrongdoing because you regret something you did. 
Section B
1. Write a haiku about pain.
Fusillade of pain
slithers down my skin, enchants
my inner wild thing
2. Complete this paragraph, "I am a submissive/switch/dominant (delete as appropriate) because ... The final paragraph should contain EXACTLY 100 words.
I am a submissive because I believe it is my nature. I can be an aggressive go getter under the right circumstance. I am not a doormat. Without getting into a nature vs. nurture debate, I feel most comfortable in a submissive position to a strong dominant, be it in my work life or my private life. Now that I have stopped fighting my nature, I absolutely love being able to indulge in the luxury of submission. Which is a luxury for a woman in today's modern world, where we are constantly extolled to be assertive and take charge. Selah.
3. Write a short story or poem that illustrates the sensuality of submission.
I was able to write a Haiku, thinking purely about pain, but when we got to the sensuality portion of the exam, I fell apart because David was the most sensual man, not just Dom, I have ever known. So, hopefully you will allow this as my entry. I wrote it a few years ago as  a fantasy of a meeting between he and I.  It is my favorite bit of fiction that i have ever written, and I have been writing stories since i was a child. 
The hour and a half drive gave her too much time to guess and second guess herself.
The temptation to turn the car around was strong. Butterflies the size of condors roiled in her belly. This was it, she was going to meet Him, face to face at last.
They had been chatting on-line for months. He was different than most of the other “Doms” that she had met on Fet, forget the CM bunch. He was firm in his resolve that they go slowly and get to know each other. At times she had questioned whether he was interested in her as a woman at all, or as just a friend.
She had been tentative, and unsure at the beginning, talking too much, making gaff after gaff. Recently divorced, she hadn’t flirted with intention for twenty years. She didn't know how to act anymore. He had been kind and reassuring at every turn. Not once had he pressured her for more than she was comfortable giving, until it turned around and it was she that had wanted to go farther.  It had taken her weeks to understand that he enjoyed the intricate dance of give and take, the long slow reveal.
Looking back she could see His hand on the relationship from the very beginning. He’d had a destination in mind, offered her the opportunity and direction, then waited to see if she would go. She had, and it led her here.
When he suggested she join him for the 14th annual “Out of the Dungeon Meet and Beat” she was a bit taken aback. It was an intimidating title for her first "lifestyle" outing. He reassured her, “It’s basically a glorified garden party. There will be people scene-ing, but there will also be plenty of folks just enjoying the food, and the company”. She had agreed to meet him.
That is how she came to be sitting at this table being served a glass of wine by an adorable little woman in nothing but a lace apron, collar and cuffs. Waiting for him to arrive, she admired the setting.
The party was being held out on the well manicured grounds of the Stronghold, the regions premier private BDSM club. Paper lanterns in bright colors hung from the trees, and lilies bloomed along the edges of the lawn. The light of early evening had a golden cast to it. The whole scene reminding her of John Singer Sargent’s painting “Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose” with lovely naked nymphs cavorting, in place of children playing.
Suddenly she felt a presence behind her. "I am so glad that you came" his breath puffed warm in her ear. With a wide, shy smile she turned in her chair to greet him. As he stepped around her, and seated himself facing her, she was able to get her first good look at him. A tiny bit of grey, smile lines around his oh so knowing  eyes, a confident smile, filled with an animation that no photo could ever capture. She very much liked what she saw.
He leaned in to her and placed his hands on her bare shoulders, drawing them slowly down her arms to take her hands. "You are very lovely. And so soft". As he lifted her hands to his mouth, a small bubble of delight began to grow inside her. They sat and chatted quietly for a bit, surprisingly comfortable with each other. When he finished his drink He took her wrist and suggested they stroll around and enjoy the scene.
Wandering through the different groups for a bit, they stopped to watch a flogging. She was struck by the blissful look on the young woman's face, and found herself becoming aroused. She turned to him to speak, only to find him watching her very closely. A faint smile crossed his face. Her cheeks heated. She felt a twinge of embarrassment that he could see her arousal so easily. He brought his large warm hand to rest at the small of her back. With a smile and a tilt of his head, he guided her away from the scene, down a less trodden pathway.
Content to ramble, they wandered through the garden, discussing music and other pleasant subjects, quietly charming each other. He slid his hand from the small of her back to her hip and pulled her closer to his side. The heat from his body was doing funny things to her belly. She wanted to just melt into him. Suddenly she wanted so many things. From her place under his arm she looked up at his face, not realizing just how much longing showed in her eyes..
As if her body had sent out a signal, his replied. He turned into her, and slowly brought his hand up over the curves of her back, to bury his fist in her hair. Capturing her gaze with his, he took her wrist in his free hand and brought it to the middle of her back. She hooked two fingers of her free hand through his belt loop.
Drawing her head all the way back with his fist, he smiled down into her face. She gave token struggle, more to enjoy the feel his firm grip than anything else, but subsided when he gave a sharp little tug. Feeling breathless, she pulled in one deep breath, then another, her pebbled nipples brushing his chest. His smile widened into a feral grin right before he swooped down and took possession of her mouth.  
His kiss was a demand, and she opened to it. His taste and heat overwhelmed her. He fucked her mouth with his, warm wet muscle dancing and sliding against warm wet muscle. It was carnal, sensual, skating along the very edge of brutal.
It was too much for her. Pulled deeper and deeper into it, her senses overloaded, and her eyes began to drift closed. He ended the kiss, still holding her immobile. “You should see your face, little girl. So soft and needy. Come sit on this bench with me. We’ll play a little game”.
He ushered her over to a rustic little bench almost hidden under an arbor of roses. She sat, still breathing hard. “Do you need a moment to collect yourself” he asked, in a satisfied tone. Her “No, Sir” came out so husky and hushed, she wondered if that could really be her.
“Good, then let’s begin. This game is me”, gripping her shoulders he turned her, facing away from him. Taking a short length of soft cotton rope out of his pocket he he ran his hand down her arm from her elbow to her wrist. Gently drawing her left arm behind her back, he reached for her right, placing one hand atop the other. “Lace your fingers together and hold still”, his warm sexy voice made her shiver. The condors were back, flying anticipatory patterns through her belly.
His strong fingers threaded the rope in and out of her wrists, binding them together in an flurry of figure eights. With a last quick twist he cinched down the last knot, leaving her comfortable but unable to move her hands. The heat of his body was comforting and disturbing at the same time. “Comfortable?” he whispered in her ear. Her whole body was buzzing, she was afraid she would squeak. She nodded her assent. “Good girl, now bend your head”.
His hands were heavy at the back of her head as he released her hair from the clip and pins holding it up. The long coil unraveled down her back in waves. He buried his fingers in the curls combing the long hair down upon her back. Making a humming pleasure sound deep in his throat he leaned into her. It was one of the most erotic moments of her life, to sit quiescent, hands tied, while he rubbed his face in her hair.
Strong hands gripping her upper arms lifted her to her feet. He scooted back on the bench and sat her, still with her back to him, between his outstretched legs. She was engulfed in him, his heat, his scent, his body. He was very aroused, her bound hands rested against his hot, hard denim covered ridge. Warm fingers brushed her hair to the side, where it cascaded over her shoulder, exposing her nape.
He teased her with his breath, then his lips, brushing from side to side. Shock drove shivers down her spine at the feel of teeth sinking slowly into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The next bite placed lower, in the meaty little muscle at the top of her spine. It hurt, but still felt so good. As he moved slowly to the other side a whimper escaped her. She could feel his chuckle rumble through his chest.
“So responsive, what say we add this”, he said as he reached around her to capture a nipple through her dress. He gave a squeeze while biting down on her neck. She shuddered, as heat flashed through her belly and pooled lower down. Moaning, she leaned into his hand.
Lips tracing her ear, he spoke, “Oooh, my little girl likes this don’t you, baby”? Suddenly shy, she dropped her head, not willing to admit how much he turned her on. His tone sharpened, “Say it. Tell . Me. Now”.
“Yes Sir. I like it” .
He said firmly, “Tell me what it is you like, be specific, little one”. For a split second her brain screamed “You can’t do this”, then her mouth spoke, “I love it when you pinch my nipples Sir. It makes me shiver when you bite into me, it makes me wet. I want you to touch me, anywhere, everywhere, please”.
She could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Will you beg”? The world stopped spinning for that one moment, and she felt suspended in time. The universe waiting for her answer to begin again.
“Yes Sir, I’ll beg. Please touch me, please”, and the world began to turn again.
“Good Girl” he said with a smile, as he untied her wrists. As he ushered her back up the path with a hand at the back of her neck, he said,“That is exactly what I wanted to hear. Let’s go get a cup of coffee, and see if there is something from the dessert tray we might like”.
But...but...her brain stuttered. Then she began to smile.

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