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Sex is not the opposite of feminism
Do we need to say this? Really?
An article went up on IndyVoices today that discussed feminists “dancing on the grave of NUTS magazine” and lamented that “by outlawing lads’ mags we risk turning women’s sex into a taboo.”
It’s not the only thing I’ve seen that wants to pit Feminism against Sex in some imaginary battle of opposites. I’ve seen some bloggers saying that sex positivity is being pushed in people’s faces and that there’s pressure on anyone who writes about feminism to be simultaneously politically angry and coquettishly sexual. This is often taken to mean that if one wants to be a proper feminist – you know, one of the one’s who is really serious about it rather than one of the ones who just wears feminism the way they’d accessorize with a lovely new scarf – then one has to avoid being sexual.
Pro-sex doesn’t mean pro-the current sexual norm
The reason the IndyVoices article is a steaming pile of horseshit is that it assumes there is only one kind of sexuality: the kind that’s packaged by publications such as NUTS magazine, page 3, and anything that involves a lady showing her cleavage to get one over on weak men who are hampered by erections.
To say that this is a narrow view of sexuality is to drastically undersell the problem. Of all possible sexual worlds, this is a very very small one in a multiverse teeming with infinite possibilities.
So, you can be against this particular portrayal of women and still be pro-sex.
Being a feminist does not mean ignoring male sexual pleasure
Some men like sex. Some women like sex. It is not inherently anti-feminist to be a woman who enjoys pleasuring men, just as it isn’t anti-feminist to be a woman who’d rather not do that, thank you very much.
If you want to sign up to be a feminist (I’ve got a clipboard and a list of names here somewhere – every sign-up gets a free “YAY FEMINISM” badge), you don’t have to push back against anything that might make an individual man happy. You just have to want men and women to be equal. That means Cosmo and Glamour articles on ‘how to please your man in bed’, the ones mentioned in the IndyVoices piece, are not necessarily ‘anti-feminist’.
I know, I am sticking up for Cosmo – shock. That is literally how bad things have got.
What is anti-feminist is when these articles frame their version of sexuality as the only possible one. If these magazines are the dominant things that shape the discourse, with no acknowledgement that – hey! People are basically all individuals and the chances are that our generic sex tips won’t work on everyone! And some people don’t actually want to have this kind of sex anyway! – that’s when things are fucked. The problem isn’t that these articles exist, the problem is that they tell us a very specific story about how we all should be.
So: wanting sexual pleasure – to give it and to get it – is not anti-feminist. What is anti-feminist is claiming that everyone must give it and get it in exactly the same way.
Anti-page-3 doesn’t necessarily mean anti-women
The No More Page 3 campaign has taken a lot of stick. But it has taken a lot of stick for a pretty good reason: it comes across as pretty anti-women. Like, really. Although they are fighting against sexual norms that paint women as interesting baubles for men to wank over (and I am totally down with smashing that), some of the campaign rhetoric involves making women feel bad for displaying their bodies, and that’s not cool.
Going back to point 1 – there are many different types of sexuality. And Page 3 caters to one very specific type. In my feminist, pro-sex Utopia, there will be things that cater to this type of sexuality: there will be women who earn money by getting their tits out for lads who wank to them, and no one will hate on any of the participants in this happy exchange. However, it will all be happening in an environment that is very different to the one we have now: an environment in which this type of sexuality is merely one among many, one which is not the dominant face of ‘sex’ as society understands it, and which no one feels pressured to participate in or look at if they don’t want to, because we will all accept that this is not the only way.
Feminism is about not telling women what they should be. Or what they should not be.
Pro-sex doesn’t mean pro-‘pushing your sexual desires onto other people’
This one’s the kicker, and it’s this view I’ve seen fairly frequently elsewhere. I’ve read articles and blogs by people I admire saying that they feel pressured to be overtly sexual in order to “keep up with the Joneses” of popular ‘sex-positive’ feminism. It’s the other side of the coin from the IndyVoices article.
In IV, the author claims that ‘feminists’ are in danger of turning ‘women’s sex’ into a taboo. I’ve heard other bloggers claim that – on the contrary – women who do not want to openly discuss their sex lives are made to feel like renegades and outcasts while the rest of us frolic in an online orgy of self-congratulatory masturbation.
I don’t think anyone should be made to feel like this. Sex positivity is not about all getting our tits out and smearing chocolate on each other. It’s not about wanking on buses, or making everyone tell us the intimate details of their sexual fantasies. It’s about accepting that everyone has different desires: I want to live in a world where I can openly enjoy sex, and talk about everything that I (and other people) do to my body that gives me pleasure. Other people might want to live in a world where they can enjoy sex very privately, or not do it at all, or sort of enjoy it sometimes but not shout about it from the rooftops.
Guess what? These people can all coexist happily! The reason I set up this blog is so that people like me who enjoy the kind of sex that I do can come and talk about it and we can swap stories with each other. Also, if I’m honest, because I like to boast and my mates are probably sick of me talking about this shit in the pub after four gin and tonics. However, I do not print it out and wave it in the faces of passing strangers, because not all of them will be down with it.
So, while I love talking about sex, I realise that there are many who would rather not talk about it, do it, or have it shoved in their faces. In a genuinely sex-positive world, all of us can live happily and equally no matter how much sex we want, what kind of sex we want, or whether we want it at all.
Feminism is sex-positive, but not sex-compulsory
To my mind, feminism and sex-positivity go hand in hand. However, ‘sex-positivity’ doesn’t just mean mourning the loss of NUTS magazine and insisting that Page 3 is totally fine – that’s being ‘positive’ about just one aspect of sexuality, and failing to acknowledge the huge problems with the fact that this type of sexuality dominates our discourse in a way that is often misogynist.
I think sex-positivity is about more than just shouting “YAY SEX” and fucking whoever I like. It’s about more than just what porn I do or don’t watch, or whether I buy sex toys. It’s not about whether I’ll flash my tits to get into a nightclub and call it empowering. To me, being sex-positive is about celebrating the diversity of human sexual experience. And with such a diversity, we are always bound to disagree. I just wish we could have those disagreements without having to pretend that sex is the opposite of feminism.
I appreciate there are problems to tackle, and I am happy to navigate the ethical path of my sexual desire and my feminist principles. But I will do that, because feminism and sex are not mutually exclusive. It’s a complicated relationship, but a close one, and ultimately I choose both.
On the Doxy massager: best wand toy ever
About ten years ago, my boyfriend bought me my first ever sex toy. We spent ages in the shop choosing, then eventually came home with a rabbit-type thing that the sales assistant recommended because ‘you’ll regret it if you go for the smaller one.’ That afternoon the boy hand-fucked me with a growing sense of awestruck wonder as I went from ‘oh that’s odd’ to ‘mmm fucking hell’ through to ‘DON’T STOP DON’T STOP OR I SWEAR I WILL EAT MY OWN TONGUE.’
Punishment fucking: fuck me like I’m in trouble
The best thing about getting fucked like you’re in trouble is that to get out of trouble, you have to do exactly what you’re told. Here’s a story about punishment fucking, written when I was incredibly horny for exactly this kind of fuck…
Someone else’s story: Playing kinky – an intro to kink
There are times when even the most opinionated of us need to step back, take a deep breath, and shut the fuck up. Never do I get this feeling more than when it comes to discussing BDSM. People have raged to me before about my views on safewords, and various boundaries that I skip unthinkingly across. I do this because I am a hedonist, and often because I’m an idiot: sometimes I enjoy doing the kinds of play that experienced kinksters will warn against. In short, if you want an intro to kink I’m not the right person to come to.
Luckily I know someone who is – this week’s guest blog is from Charlie, who has written an excellent book that introduces people to BDSM in a safe, intelligent, and genuinely entertaining way. This guide is there to teach people many of the things that I’m too stupid and horny to say properly. I’ve read it, and it’s ace. It’s also free to download as a pdf – so have at it.
So, with an intro to ‘Playing Around’, I’m delighted to welcome Charlie…
Playing Around (with punctuation): An insight into a kinky author’s suffering
Thwack!
“That should be a semicolon, Charlie,” my editor/partner [editor note: yes, I slept with them for their writing] muttered sternly, pointing their riding crop at the offending comma. “And you don’t spell ‘negotiation’ like that.”
It’s a tough life for an author, especially for those writing a book about BDSM whose editor is all-too-willing to take advice from it (not that advice is particularly needed). Yet despite this hardship, I recently released my free introduction to kink-e-book: Playing Around: A Short Introduction to Kink for the Curious.
Kink has come somewhat more into the public eye since the release of Fifty Shades of Are-You-Fucking-Kidding-Me, but as a (relatively) experienced kinkster, I can think of nothing more horrifying than people learning about the activities and dynamics of BDSM as a result of it:
“Whilst there’s no one right way of being kinky, there are definitely wrong ways – and the ubiquitous Fifty Shades of Grey highlights many of these: it has an incredibly poor view of consent (a contract is most definitely not a good way of going about consent. And complaining about safewording?), portrays abuse as BDSM (and vice versa), and ultimately implies that kinkiness is a problem from which to be saved…”
That’s not to say that there aren’t kink guides and resources available, but these are frequently aimed at people with at least a modicum of experience. For the newbie, the jargon-rich culture can be a little off-putting, to say the least.
I aimed to write the kind of guide I would have liked when I was a fledgling pervert, experimenting with my equally naïve partner. We had numerous conversations in hushed tones about what we would do with a short length of ribbon we acquired, or the flimsy and severely unimpressive riding crop we bought from Amazon: conversations which were, for the most part, fruitless. We could really have done with some guidance.
We were lucky: others report bigger issues. From a rather dire experience in which a favourite silk scarf was sacrificed – though only after a somewhat lengthy hunt for scissors – to an unfortunate incident where “harder” and “no harder” were confused. When you know what you’re doing, kink is both safer and more fun.
Kink, consent and communication
It’s not just the safety and fun that concerned me about, though. Fifty Shades (and society at large) has a huge problem with consent and communication: there is a worrying notion that negotiation is simply tiresome and detracts from the sexual experience. It is a vital aspect of any interaction, particularly sexual interactions – and even more so if you’re going to be tying people up and hitting them for fun. For me, it was just as – if not more – important to provide a practical guide to negotiation and consent as it was to talk about how to actually do the things in the first place.
“However you intend to include BDSM in your relationship(s)- as an introduction to an existing vanilla relationship, further exploration in a relationship where you have done some experimentation, as an active member of the scene, or anything else for that matter – you will need to communicate your needs and desires (and listen to theirs) to any partners you play with. Be honest – proper communication can only happen when everyone involved isn’t overly embarrassed or scared of voicing their feelings […] It’s likely that your partner is going to be feeling the same fear and uncertainty – be supportive!”
Not only is consent and negotiation a vital aspect of safety – both physical and emotional – it can, despite what Fifty Shades and its ilk implies – be an enjoyable experience in itself. Due to our cities being inconveniently located, Xandra, my editor/partner, and I often do this sort of thing via the wonders of the internet: it builds anticipation and ensures that we’re both brimming in excitement when we get to see each other. And of course, this also helped us to make an effective system of punishments for grammatical errors, as well as bribery with topless pictures.
Yes, it’s a tough life for an author, but for the worthy goal of turning communication into incoherent screams and moans in bedrooms across the world, I’d like to think it was worth it.
Now, if you’ll excuse me – Xandra’s insisting that they edit this post too…
Whether you’re looking to try something hot and spanky for the first time, or – like me – you’re up to your knickers in filth but still making lots of mistakes, or if you just want to find out more, download Playing Kinky: A Short Introduction to Kink for the Curious as a free pdf (released under a Creative Commons license), or head to Amazon US or UK where you can get it as an ebook.
On the three magic sex words
There are three words that, when combined, make me shiver with delight. I’m not talking about ‘I love you’ – they have their place but aren’t likely to get me hot and wet and trembling. These three magic sex words are like an aural orgasm – they pinpoint a perfect moment that makes me want to stop time and milk that one second until I’m satisfied I’ve made the most of it.
It’s explained better by example.
Lubed up masturbation
“Do you want to try this?” I held out a bottle of lube – “tingling”, it said, although I suspect what won him over was that it also said “new”. He held out his hand, squeezed a bit into his fingers, and rubbed it on the head of his cock.
I’m a sucker for guys rubbing their cocks.
Prompted, perhaps, by recent thoughts on guys and sex toys, and remembering how meltingly filthy it is when I get to pull him swiftly to the edge of orgasm using a dick-sheath, I lay him down on the bed and got out two possibilities. One black, solid, and narrow – squeezing it onto his dick is tricky but the effort is worthwhile. The second one is clear, jellylike, and much softer.
I went for the latter – I like the feel of it in my hands. Because it’s so soft, as I squeeze and rub him I can feel the rock-hardness of him pushing against the sheath. I can run it up and down, twisting and clamping it round his dick, feeling the head pushing against the end and through my fingers.
I love the rhythm of hand jobs. The up down up down, the friction. I love the smooth-sticky feeling of lube on my fingers, and yes – I love the control. I like knowing that every kick of arousal, every grunt and moan, every tingle and twitch, is down to me.
He put his hands behind his head and looked me directly in the eye. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as I rubbed faster, squeezed harder. I revelled in the increasing frequency of the slick-slick-slick noises as I rubbed his dick. And then the three magic words:
“I’m gonna come.”
Ungh. Those words have such a beautiful, simple sexiness that they make me instantly taut – aroused and eager for the inevitable end. I did what anyone would do, and immediately slowed the pace, trying to keep him hanging there for a moment while I took in his frown and his rapid breathing, and the double-twitch of his cock just before he came.
It turns out restraint is neither my, nor his, forté. He arched his neck, leaning up towards me as he shot spunk into the cup of the jelly sheath. It’s clear, so I can see him filling it as he moans, and as his frown deepens. That’s what I’ve been waiting for – that’s what the joy of the control, the feeling of sticky-wet lube, the anticipation as I came home with the bottles – all leads up to.
I’m gonna come.
His pleasure. My achievement. The perfect combination of hot.
Honourable mention to the lovely PR person who gave me the lube (Durex Embrace) that kicked off this story. She challenged me to see if using it could bring on an orgasm in less than 3 minutes. For the record, I reckon the 3 magic words came about 2 and a half minutes in, so kudos for that. I don’t do product reviews and this is the first time I’ve accepted a freebie, but I was sort of intrigued by this lube (it’s actually two different lubes sold together that produce an intriguing sensation when combined), so it was the kick-off for this particular escapade. I hope you’ll not think me an awful sellout, and will agree that the story above is way better than simply giving something marks out of ten.