Consensual Violence

I was reading a blog the other day and there was a picture of the poster after a session she’d had. It showed her back from just above the waist to around mid thigh. Her skin in the picture was a dark purple bruise and was black where the welts were. I admit I was horrified, both with the damage inflicted and the amount of violence needed to give that much pain.

I’ve seen pictures posted by Amnesty of prisoners who have been tortured who had far less damage than she did.

I’ve been thinking about it since then, trying to get my head around how I justify an acceptance of her right to be hurt and to relish the results against the bit of me that recoils at anyone being subjected to that.

As always, it boils down to consent.

I don’t understand boxing, or the running of the bulls in Pampolona or people running around with guns shooting people (and I’m thinking military here – not the ‘hood). All of these are legal activities in some, or all, parts of the world. Yet her caning would be considered GBH in most countries.

That level of violence makes me uneasy. I admit that and am not ashamed of acknowledging it. I don’t want to become so desensitised to the violence in this world that I can look at it, then shrug and move on. Nor do I have any desire to stop people enjoying themselves however they wish as long as all involved consent. SSC is a good framework, even if the concept of sane is in the eye of the beholder.

For me it’s a hard one, I find I can’t use the euphemisms that are usually used to take the sting out of words, making them more cuddly and acceptable. To me violence is violence – whether it be ‘good’ pain or ‘bad’ pain, emotional or physical.

I have my tastes and I’m quite sure there are many people who would be shocked at the things I savour and I would much rather have a sadist and a masochist explore and satisfy their needs together than not.

If all parties consent, my position is live and let live.

As I struggle through writing this it’s finally dawned on me why I feel so uneasy – it’s because I’m fine with the activities if they’re consensual, but not happy with having to see the result paraded for the rest of the world to admire.

Bah, I’ve become an old fuddy duddy. Out and proud?? ugh. This emo/exhibitionist stuff really irritates me and yet I blog. The ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ position opens up another can of worms that I don’t even want to consider right now.

Sigh, at least I’m consistent in my inconsistencies I suppose.

I think I’ll go and find some sand to hide my head in. Then come back and rename this post “Was it SSC? Fine, just don’t show me the results”