Ambivalence
I used to use the word “ambivalent” incorrectly. I thought it meant to not care one way or the other; to be apathetic about a decision or choice. Of course it doesn’t mean that at all. It means much the opposite in fact.
Latin in origin, from ambi meaning “both” and valentia meaning “strength”, ambivalence means having strong feelings, simultaneous and contradictory attitudes, toward an object or certain path.
I am ambivalent about slavery, I’ve decided. It is not a love-hate thing. A love-hate relationship would mean that I love being a slave but hate myself for doing it. That is not the case at all.
But this line right here fits me to a T: “a heightened ambivalence which is expressed in behavior by alternating obedience and rebellion, followed by self-reproach”.
See? I’m ambivalent.
While that bears further thought, there is something else that I am ambivalent about and that’s my real reason for posting today. The vocabulary lesson wasn’t in vain. ;)
I am ambivalent about the whip. About being whipped. About asking to be whipped or told I’m going to be whipped.
It’s different than, say, spanking. Getting a spanking is almost normal. It used to be a standard part of childhood back in the day (still is I suppose), and I even remember it being used in schools as a youngster (Not that I ever was spanked by the principal! I was much too good). I seem to recall, when my own children were just entering elementary school, signing a paper forbidding the use of corporal punishment on them should they misbehave in class. So my guess is that using paddles in school has only recently been done away with.
And spanking wasn’t unheard of between a husband and wife either. A “naughty” wife was dealt with, by some husbands, in much the same way a naughty child was. So spanking feels, to me, like a much more acceptable practice. The history of spanking is presentable.
But the history of whipping is not so presentable. It’s not a clouded memory for most people. It’s not something that’s ever been shown in anything other than an extremely negative and unattractive way, bringing up feelings of revulsion and anger. Pictures of men and women, tied to posts and whipped to bloody ribbons. People strapped to machines or tools, whipped into working harder and faster. In movies, doesn’t the “slavedriver” *always* have a whip in hand, and isn’t he always quick to use it upon a slow worker?
Whipping is all wrapped up in shame and disgrace. That bleeds over into my enjoyment of it.
When I am enjoying it, that is.
It’s very strange, the things that pop into my head in the midst of a scene.
Master does not whip me to bloody ribbons. Yet. I know that he can, I know that he is capable of it. I’ve seen him flick a whip at a sturdy cardboard box and leave a 3 inch gash so I know that when it’s me on the receiving end and not a box, he’s holding back something awful.
I do not know if he will always hold back though. Nor do I know at what point he’ll “let loose” once I’ve been secured to the ceiling. There is a lot of fear coursing through me during a whipping… until the whip has been hung UP, and I have been hung DOWN.
Anywho, so I know I’m not taking anything over the top when he’s whipping me. I get some welts, sometimes they last days, sometimes only hours. Sometimes there is a little breaking of the skin, sometimes not. Sometimes it feels good, sometimes I’d like to set the whip on fire in the backyard and do a happy dance while it burns.
Sometimes he does it rather lightly (but still hurting!), but repetitively, over and over and over, quick little snaps, moving from spot to spot to spot, without pause and it drives me batshit crazy. It’s not even the pain so much as the constant flick, the never-ending bite.
I’d make the comparison between being stung once by a wasp, or being bitten by 300 fire ants, one at a time.
I am ambivalent on whether I’d choose the wasp or the ants. Both and neither, thank you.
My fear is the day when it becomes being stung by a wasp 300 times, one at a time.
I’ve never been stung by a wasp. Not even by a bee. I’ve built it up into epically painful proportions in my mind.
This particular occasion was a “300 ants, one at a time” type of whipping. Honestly, by the end of it, I’m whimpering like I’ve been skinned merely because I can’t catch my fucking breath. It’s insanity I tell you.
Pictures are behind the cut. And a clip is up at the Clip Store.
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Uncategorized | kaya | 
Tuesday January 29th, 2008 10:51am
Beautiful… absolutely gorgeous pictures!
However, how does he whip you *and* take pictures at the same time? Is he just *that* talented?
Well he is talented but not *that* talented, no. ;-)
He sets the camera to film, and then I snag still shots from the video. It’s really kind of cool. :D
Kaya,
You’ve expressed exactly what I imagine a slave/submissive would feel about being whipped. I know it’s almost derigor in BDSM fiction to portray slaves such that they come to enjoy the actual pain from the whipping itself, but I have always had trouble suspending my disbelief for it. I suspect, excpet for extreme masochists, it’s more of a “I hate the pain but love submitting to it” type of thing. Of course, I could be totally off base.
I like your differenciation between spankings and whippings as well. I have no trouble believing that there are a lot of people who actually enjoy being spanked outside of what we traditionally think of as the D/s lifestyle (whatever that is). I even experienced the dichotamy in people’s attitudes between spanking and whipping. I wrote an article on another web site on pleasurable pain, a vanilla look, and had more than one responce telling me how off base I was, that anyone who enjoyed anything beyond “playful spankings” was mentally unbalanced and that anyone who inflicted such was a criminal (in UK laws). It was a real eyeopening experience. It was almost as if they were terrified that healthy people would want to let themselves suffer pain. I can send you a copy of the article if you’re interested.
BTW, the stripes look lovely, as does the expression on your face in the third picture.
Dave
I would love to see the article actually.
You aren’t too far off base with the “I hate the pain but love submitting to it” theory. It often works that way for me. I call myself a “belated masochist” because the pleasure *usually* comes way after the pain is over. Occasionally I can morph pain into pleasure but that generally only happens when I’m in control of the application of pain. And I guess we know how often that happens, eh? ;)
“I call myself a “belated masochist” because the pleasure *usually* comes way after the pain is over.”
Thank you! I was looking for a word to describe that, and couldn’t come up with anything. Now I know. =)
Been awhile, I know, but had to chime in.
The whip, for me, feels inherently *right*. So much so that it has caused me to believe that perhaps in a past life (if there is such a thing) I was whipped quite frequently. It’s very primal for me. It, like no other accoutrement, can break me down within minutes into a sobbing, screaming, writhing mess. But again, it feels *right*.
That being said, WHILE the whipping is taking place, it also hurts like a mad mother, and I like your comparison to wasps and bees.
Neat post and yummy topic. :)
~a twitching magpie
You know what? I agree with you! It does feel right, righter than a paddle or a slapper or anything else.. and that’s probably where the ambivalence comes from..lol. WHY does it feel so right, when it should feel so wrong!?
It’s wonderful to see you again. I missed you. :-)
Why is there a towel over your feet? O.o Just curious.
lol.. your guess is as good as mine. Why do Masters do the things they do?
If I had to guess I would say that since I wasn’t bound in any way, He was perhaps concerned about my ability to not draw my feet up to protect my ass and He didn’t want to accidentally whip my foot? Not that He’s against whipping my feet, but only when He aims there.
Or… hrm… why *else* would he have put it there?? Any guesses?
I can’t respond to your post right now but the ability to withstand that without restraints is proof that you do enjoy the submission to the whip, cane et al
I,like you, have a “thing” for the whip that is different than for any other implement. Part of it is pure, primal fear. The whip scares the living shit out of me. Precisely because I know what it CAN do. I’ve seen absolutely lovely, sensual, almost ballet-like whippings — done by masters like Bob Deegan. Here, though, whippings are like a thousand knives, and I “know” that every single stroke is cutting me to ribbons. Even though my rational mind has a clear grip on the truth that there is no way that is actually occuring. Still, when I make it through to the end of a full on, high end whipping, it is like having climbed to the highest peak. I am there and I am giddy simply to have lived through the whole wild encounter.
swan
Kaya, lovely pics, I think that I understand where you are coming from.
One of the reasons I read all your posts, you make me think, you see I’m a bit of a masochist also. :)
Warm hugs,
Paul.
My Master has never used a whip on me. On one hand… it turns me on to think of the possibility of Him doing so… on the other… I feel like crawling into a deep, dark hole and curling up into the fetal position.
I love the pictures. I greatly enjoyed the post. Thank you for sharing it.
I’m kinda turned on looking at the pictures, but man am I glad that M and I haven’t gotten into whips yet.
I especially like the marks all over your body on the last picture.
I know you’re not into requests much, but I have to say…the look on your face is why I dig the pictures you post. I can imagine the stripes and the welts, but your face is incredibly expressive and it’s far more thought provoking for me (and evocative of memories as well). So first off, more of your face, please! you are beautiful!
About whips. My husband loves them. He told me so many stories about how he spent hours and hours practicing outside with leaves, inside with pillows, anywhere with a balloon, flicking and flicking until he could pop the balloon so precisely that he could aim where the shreds would go–so many stories that by the time he finally whipped me (ah, years ago…sigh) it was almost a let down. ALMOST. The wasp stings are nothing to it–the whip for me feels heavier, sharper, like a wasp in its brevity but a tire tread for the width of the pain.
Lovely post. Ambivalent? Amen. That’s the space we play in.
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That’s funny, because until reading this post, I also thought that ambivalent meant “don’t give a toss either way” !
(and I love the pics. They make me a little hot under the collar, wishing it was me..)
Another thought provoking post!
i have never felt the whip…the marks look similar to a very thin buggy whip Master uses (rarely thank God!) which hurts like hell..i try to stay as neutral as possible around what He does with me in this regard, so far, as we are still such rookies and i don’t want to sway the natural flow of things…but the body doesn’t lie!! i am sure He is figuring out what works “best”..whatever that means. i had read so much about the use of the hairbrush for various DD pages and blogs i was reading during my exploration phase..so i got a decent wooden one…that sucker hurts TERRIBLE!!! It has disappear from the night stand somehow…and hasn’t been mentioned…not out of the house, just in case..but DANG! Another big surprise was an old fashion thick yardstick…used with no advanced notice or warm up…let’s just say it lifted me off my feet…no “float” there!
All this is leading us to saying i LOVE the flogger…so i can’t decide if i am truly a masochist or not…i do go into subspace at some point from pain play…but most would not be my choice of fun, but i love the idea of Master using me in that manner..so i agree, the submissive part is the most important.
Thanks for sharing…and beautiful pictures…the beauty of His marks does make me crave the lash..oh, yeah…my leather leash is right up there with the flogger..i may have to send Master here to see your beauty marks and see if he gets any ideas! ;>0
~s/nik