Another post about writing my erotic life. Some of these echo earlier q and a posts, but some reflect recent questions I’ve been asked. So here’s some more on writing my erotic life.
When you write about your sexual experiences, does the writing arouse you? [from my friend Nudo]
Yes, it does. Not always, but often. When I write my personal experiences, it’s a process of reliving my life in slow motion. I re-imagine what happened, but I replay it from different angles, perspectives, for the writing.
One viewpoint is through the lens of someone else and how they see me — say, naked and bound and spread open — an objective third-party view of me. This is not , of course, how I experienced it (I don’t see myself from outside myself in the moment), but it’s necessary for the writing, so readers can see me in the experience. This for me is not so much arousing as humiliating — although for me, being submissive, humiliation is arousing in a general way.
Another viewpoint is through the lens of my psyche — how I emotionally feel and think about what’s being done to me. Usually this is what I remember most vividly, though not moment by moment, but in general impressions. For example, after my recent experience with Kevin in the bondage room, I recalled the emotional impact his leaving the room had on me — how it felt like him pulling out of my vagina, leaving me feel empty and off-kilter. Going back to these emotions is powerful for me and sometime arouses me with their intensity.
A third viewpoint is through the lens of my physical and sexual sensation in the experience — my reliving of his body and sex, of him touching and whipping me, of his intercourse with me. And yes, of course, this arouses me all over again in the recollection for the writing.
Kevin, in this case, keeps on giving.
This is maybe more a general question about “writing real life,” but when you write about your sexual experiences, do they come out differently on the page than when you experienced them in person? [from Jeremy, my college friend and now follower]
Yes and no. What I write on the page is a reasonable facsimile of what actually happened. The order of events is the same, the mood of the moment is the same, my feelings and responses are substantially the same as when it all happened.
However, I could write an experience three times and it would come out somewhat different each time.
I refer to the three lenses in my previous answer: the objective visual lens, the emotional lens, and the sexual lens. If you imagine each of these as layers in photo software — I don’t know Photoshop well, but I understand its use of layers — it’s possible for me to write an experience with one layer taking priority. In writing the Kevin experience my emotional-lens layer was strongest — it just happened that I emphasized my state of mind and emotion more than the other lens layers.
Sometimes it just comes out a certain way. But sometimes it’s a choice, or maybe just my personal mood when I’m writing.
Also, I think I sometimes think of an experience in terms of a form or medium. When I have written about drawing a bath for Mistress Amanda here and bathing her, it feels like a poem, and I write it that way — a lot of imagery, word association, word sounds. When I wrote about being made topless in front of the landscaping crew last year here, it felt to me like a movie — a sequence of actions and back-and-forth edits between what they saw, how they reacted, and how I responded internally. When I wrote this last time about Kevin here and here, it was more like a short story to me — images and words reflecting my somewhat off-center emotional and mental state.
I’m not sure I go into writing these posts with these approaches in mind, but the experience and my mood in the moment of writing lead me there.
Do you feel especially exposed [vulnerable] when you post intimate and sexual blogs? [from my friend Lauren]
Yes, but I wouldn’t let that deter you from blogging.
I’ve gone through different stages in this. At the beginning, I was wide open in writing about my slavery, rather full of myself in talking about my submissive nature and slave life. If I was then somewhat more restrained in writing explicitly about myself sexually, it was only because I didn’t really know how yet. But of course back then I had almost zero readers.
At another point, I went through a time of apprehension in posting things that were too personal. I did feel very exposed and I had to deal with that. Of course, the whole idea of a blog is to be personal, and in my case writing a “slave blog” is somewhat meant to be intrusive and exposing. But I had developed a small following on WordPress and I thought, “Yikes, people are actually seeing me having sex!” In time, I got over it, pushed myself through my minor paralysis, and continued writing openly about myself.
I don’t talk about readership numbers on here, and I won’t now, but I will just say that these days I have quite a few more people “reading my life,” but that in itself doesn’t bother me as it used to. What I struggle with somewhat is that there are more people in my personal circles — people I see in daily life and interact with — who follow me and read what I post about myself.
So, yes, it’s a thing. No, it doesn’t deter me from writing.
You write so vividly. How do you recall/remember the experiences you’ve had [in order to write about them in such detail]? Do you just have a really good memory? [I’ve been asked this by several people]
Thank you, but no, I don’t think my memory is much better than anyone else’s. I’ve just developed some techniques, I guess, that help me reconstruct past events.
Quick aside: I’m a fan of an older TV show (2011) called “Unforgettable.” Its main character, Carrie, has the rare genetic ability known as hyperthymesia — the ability to remember everything one’s experienced in great detail. This is a real condition, but extremely rare. (BTW, the actress playing the part of Carrie is Poppy Montgomery; people say she and I resemble each other. I don’t know: maybe a little bit.) Carrie is a New York detective, and her hyperthymesia is the plot device that helps them solve cases. I suppose I am intrigued by the show partly because of this character’s ability to remember.
Which is an ability I don’t have. I wish.
While I can’t remember most things specifically, I am able, it seems, to reconstruct an experience from the few things I do remember.
I have a pretty good ear for dialogue, and I sometimes can recall a specific sentence someone says, even though I don’t remember the whole conversation. Often it’s not that the words or thoughts are so significant but the way a person delivers it. From that one line, I reconstruct a conversation, maybe not precisely as it happened but a close facsimile, hopefully.
For example, one time Amanda had me tied to the wet bar (I wrote about it here. Later I recalled one thing she said: “You know you’re a whore, right?” It was the way she said it, matter-of-fact and baiting, with a lilt in her voice. It stuck with me, and I knew later that was the core of a whole dialogue she prompted with me about my being a whore. I was able to reconstruct the dialogue even though I didn’t remember it all precisely.
Another practice of mine is visualization of a place, a room. I don’t remember places specifically in the time I’m there — that is, say, I couldn’t tell you if there was a magazine on the coffee table that afternoon — but there are places I’ve been to many times, and so I can reconstruct the room from a lot of different memories.
Another technique is that, apart from my blog, I keep a private journal. At the end of a day, the end of an experience, if I have a chance to write in my journal, I’ll jot down some notes of specific thoughts, emotions, memories I had of the experience. It’s really helpful later when I come back to writing about something.
Any tips on writing about yourself sexually?
There are so many things I’ve learned. And am still learning. One thing I’ll offer here, for what it’s worth:
Telling “what happened” is necessary, but ultimately not the point. Yes, you have to convey to a reader what was done to you, the actions of the experience, but a little of that goes a long way, and if that’s all you tell, it winds up being flat and lifeless. The worst thing you want to do is make sex with you boring!
What matters more is how you felt during the experience, what your sensations were both sexually and emotionally, what it made you think and hope and dread and lust for.
So, yes, I have to convey to the reader that I unzipped his pants, but what brings that to erotic life is how I felt kneeling on the floor before him, what I thought of his power over me to bring me to do so, and what I anticipated lying behind his zipper. And how my mouth was watering.