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IMPERVIOUS - Confessions of a Semi-retired Deviant
Автор: Janet W. Hardy
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Рейтинг: 5 из 5 звезд5/5 (1 оценка)
Длина: 215 стр.2 ч
- Издатель:
- SinCyr Publishing
- Издано:
- Apr 20, 2019
- ISBN:
- 9781386184805
- Формат:
- Книге
Описание
Others have turned to Janet W. Hardy's 'The Ethical Slut', 'The New Topping Book' and 'The New Bottoming Book' - for advice on the most challenging questions of sex, polyamory, kink, and self-identity.
But Janet had to make it up as she went. How did she do it? Well, as you might expect from the co-author of 'Sex Disasters... and How to Survive Them', it hasn't all been roses (or thorns for that matter).
Here, in IMPERVIOUS: Confessions of a Semi-Retired Deviant, Janet takes you through the five twisty stages of her own kinky life - mirroring those of any good scene - negotiation, warmup, engagement, climax, and aftercare.
Delicious (and surprising) details await you inside. Bon Appétit!
Активность, связанная с книгой
Начать чтениеСведения о книге
IMPERVIOUS - Confessions of a Semi-retired Deviant
Автор: Janet W. Hardy
Оценки:
Рейтинг: 5 из 5 звезд5/5 (1 оценка)
Длина: 215 стр.2 ч
Описание
Others have turned to Janet W. Hardy's 'The Ethical Slut', 'The New Topping Book' and 'The New Bottoming Book' - for advice on the most challenging questions of sex, polyamory, kink, and self-identity.
But Janet had to make it up as she went. How did she do it? Well, as you might expect from the co-author of 'Sex Disasters... and How to Survive Them', it hasn't all been roses (or thorns for that matter).
Here, in IMPERVIOUS: Confessions of a Semi-Retired Deviant, Janet takes you through the five twisty stages of her own kinky life - mirroring those of any good scene - negotiation, warmup, engagement, climax, and aftercare.
Delicious (and surprising) details await you inside. Bon Appétit!
- Издатель:
- SinCyr Publishing
- Издано:
- Apr 20, 2019
- ISBN:
- 9781386184805
- Формат:
- Книге
Об авторе
Связано с IMPERVIOUS - Confessions of a Semi-retired Deviant
Отрывок книги
IMPERVIOUS - Confessions of a Semi-retired Deviant - Janet W. Hardy
IMPERVIOUS:
Confessions of a Semi-retired Deviant
Janet W. Hardy
www.sincyrpublishing.com
Shifting culture, one story at a time.
Copyright
PUBLISHED BY SINCYR Publishing, University Place, WA 98466 Copyright © 2019
Impervious Copyright © 2019 Janet W. Hardy
Foreword Copyright © 2019 Jillian Keenan
All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages in magazines, websites, news, radio, or printed materials, any reproduction or distribution of this book, in any format, without the written permission of the publisher or author is theft.
Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders, but if any have inadvertently been missed, the publisher would be happy to include those in future versions of the manuscript.
Print ISBN: 978-1-948780-09-4
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-948780-10-0
Edited by Sienna Saint-Cyr
Copy edits by Anna Sky
Cover by Lee Moyer
Photo credit Pat Kight
Foreword
Giving a spanking is a lot like writing a book. In both cases, you start with a clean slate – a blank page, a bare bottom. The possibilities are endless but the question remains the same: what journey will this conversation take? It doesn’t matter whether the conversation is written in bruises or in words. Either way, it’s an exchange, a dance, a partnership: the author leaves her mark upon the reader, and the reader transforms that mark with her gaze.
The first word. The first smack. Each is a breathless step into the unknown.
My point is, if the marks Janet Hardy leaves on a bare backside are anything like the marks she leaves on the page, she must deliver one hell of a spanking. Because she’s written one hell of a book.
The book in your hands – the book you are lucky enough to have chosen today – tracks Janet’s life through the five stages of BDSM: negotiation, warmup, engagement, climax, and aftercare. I suppose that makes this foreword an even earlier step: contact. It’s that moment when people, still strangers, manage to defy the odds on a planet of seven billion people and meet. At this point, stories are still unwritten; lovers are still unknown; hearts and blood-blisters are still unbroken. You know this moment. For better and worse, you’ve shared moments of first contact ever since you emerged into the world.
Once again, you have defied the odds. Of the estimated 130 million books in existence, you chose this one. Something drew you here. Maybe you saw this book from across a crowded shelf and were mesmerized. Maybe you’ve been fixed up: a friend thought you and this book might hit it off, and you’re willing to risk awkward small talk over tapas in the hopes that your friend was right. Maybe you’ll find a connection. Anything is possible. The relationship has not yet begun.
Here’s what fascinates me about the idea of a foreword as an allegory for the moment we first meet a significant new stranger: usually, those moments strike without warning. There is no trumpeter to announce that something meaningful is about to enter our lives. But this time, I’m that trumpeter. This foreword is that announcement: the book you’re about to read will mean something to you. It means something to me.
In my own life, I can recall only one meeting that had significance I saw coming before it arrived. On the surface, it was cliché to the point of banality: I was a girl who knew she was about to meet a boy. But I had already infused our friendship with a degree of hope that was anything but banal. Like Janet, I’m a spanking fetishist and author. Despite all the work I had done to shed light on fetishism as a healthy and natural sexual identity, I was lonely. I had filled my heart with words but still craved touch. I had no reason to feel so isolated: my inbox was full of letters. But letters are also just words. So when one friend offered to turn his words to flesh and meet me in Norway, where I was traveling with my best friend, the significance of the moment weighed on my chest. His name was Dan, and I could see it coming: for better and worse, Dan would mean something to me.
He was English, but no one’s perfect.
As I walked toward the Oslo airport arrivals terminal, where I knew Dan was waiting, I had to stop. The airport made the significance of the moment obvious and literal: I had to walk through customs and enter a new country. But I paused. I needed to catch my breath before I crossed that threshold. Standing in the airport, as my best friend waited patiently beside me, I pressed my hand against my stomach and inhaled, willing myself to breathe in the courage I thought I’d need. At the time, I wished for simple social confidence: the easy smile; the unneurotic eye contact; the calm certainty of pretty girls who know they’ve got the right outfits. I wished for that, and it came: I emerged into the airport and introduced myself to Dan with a degree of confidence utterly unlike myself.
In the months to come, I would discover I had needed to inhale a much more brutal kind of courage: the courage to walk away from a marriage to a man who had stopped loving me years before and was willing to perform that indifference with increasing cruelty. But I didn’t know that yet. I knew that a significant meeting was coming, but I had no idea it would set fire to a life that had failed me. That morning, in that airport, I was just a girl with the right yoga pants, and that was enough.
All around the world, people are yearning for that moment of contact. Although the kink community is huge and astonishingly diverse – I once even received a letter from a Syrian refugee – there is one question I hear fetishists ask more than any other: how can I find someone with whom to share this part of myself? How can I build a future that isn’t burdened with loneliness, isolation, and shame, but rather filled with community and the comfort of shared history? We’re all looking for the same thing: the points of contact that hint at the possibility of a future where people see, and share, our stories.
Congratulations. You’ve found it. You’ve made contact with the right book.
There is a profound depth of loneliness in the world, borne of our collective unwillingness to talk about sexuality, but Janet interrupts that silence. She always has. Through her books, lessons, and public advocacy, Janet has attained a near-mythical status: she is the grande dame (is it too obvious a joke to say grande domme?) of American kink culture. In the relationship to come, Janet will do so much more than guide you through the story of how she became the woman she is today. She will guide us through the history of how our community found itself: from the pre-internet days of BDSM in San Francisco to its intersections with other sexual subcultures. As both Janet and the world she inhabits emerge into joyful acceptance of themselves, you’ll see your own stories echoed in their journeys. In this book, Janet showed me that, despite my thoughts in that moment of lonely hesitation at Oslo airport, there is no such thing as just words.
Words are touch and can hit hardest of all. Significant meetings, both with people and with books, can change the course of our lives – but only if we have the courage to turn the page.
So this is it. Your moment of first contact is almost over. It’s time to move forward and discover everything this relationship will bring: the first step, the first word, the first page. As you read, my wish for you is that you inhale this book with courage. If you consent, it will leave a mark.
Lucky you. You're about to fall in love.
- Jillian Keenan, Sex with Shakespeare
Contents
Prologue: Sequence
PART ONE: NEGOTIATION
1. Please
2. Sound
3. Animal
4. Lost
5. Consequences
6. Turnon
7. Bound
8. Out
9. Propagation
10. Jolt
11. Literature
12. Practice
13. Trial
14. Ravenous
PART TWO: WARMUP
15. Circle
16. Bulletproof
17. Punishment
18. Purchase
19. Entry
20. Bottom
21. Party
22. In
23. Collar
24. Forward
25. Publisher
PART THREE: ENGAGEMENT
26. Permeable
27. Pain
28. National
29. Erogenous
30. Nonverbal
31. Raw
32. Microfamous
33. Small
34. Proxy
35. Day
36. Performance
37. Rulebreaking
38. Open
PART FOUR: CLIMAX
39. Gas
40. Circuit
41. Intolerable
42. Beyond
43. Discipline
44. Vanilla
PART FIVE: AFTERCARE
45. Falling
46. Skinless
47. Rainbow
48. Abnormal
49. Dancing
EPILOGUE: SPRING-LOADED
ABOUT
God whispers to us in our pleasures ... but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
– C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
Prologue: Sequence
THE FIVE STAGES OF a scene:
Negotiation, in which desires are ascertained, information obtained, limits set, calendars cleared, plans made.
Warmup, the gradual engagement of the senses, flush growing under skin, breath quickening, arousal building. Entrancement.
Engagement – settling in to the task. Intensity ebbing and flowing, up to your limits, where the muscles tense and the breath tightens, then, soothingly, back down, just a little. Over and over, escalating a bit each time, a symphony of yells and sighs and tears and giggles.
Climax. The final test. More than you think you can stand, except you do, because you know it will end, has to end. Won’t it?
And finally, aftercare. Small hurts are soothed, bodies brought back to baseline. Cuddles and coos, water and food and praise.
AND THEN THE SCENE is over. Except you’re still alive, and that means the scene is still happening.
PART ONE
negotiation
Please
Don’t think all ecstasies
are the same!
Jesus was lost in his love for God.
His donkey was drunk with barley.
– Rumi
Please, the miscreant begs. One more chance. I’ll never do it again. Please...
No, the captain says firmly. No, you’ve already been given several chances. I won’t make this any harder on you than it has to be, but it is going to happen.
But...
Get yourself ready. You know I can force this if I have to, but I don’t want to and I don’t think you want me to. (A narrowing of the eyes during this last clause.) The captain sits on the couch and picks up the implement.
Tears well in the miscreant’s eyes as he stares at the captain’s implacable face for a long moment. Then he looks down at the floor and a single sob escapes him. He pushes his trousers and underwear down to his ankles, and steps forward awkwardly. He is trembling.
The captain says his name, not ungently. He looks up.
It’s going to be all right, the captain says.
Somehow, the words penetrate the fog of fear and shame. And somehow he believes them. This will be painful and horrible but he will survive it.
He trusts. He takes a deep breath and gets into position across the captain’s legs.
Take my hand, says the captain.
The miscreant nods and reaches back with his right hand. The captain takes it. Perhaps this gesture is simply to keep him from shielding his buttocks, but it feels like having his hand held, it feels like a strange kind of safety.
Are you ready? the captain asks.
The miscreant doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods.
The grip on his hand tightens. The instrument comes down hard
crack muffled yelp
again crack
he will not cry
he cries
again again again...
...and it’s over and he’s crying, crying in the captain’s arms, tears on his shoulder, being held, being cared for, being comforted, being loved in his misery. Somewhere in him, something broken has started to heal.
SO THIS WOMAN JUST turned sixty, and she’s had this fantasy and others like it since she was six or so – fantasies of punishment and catharsis, the whole man correcting and guiding the damaged one. Yes, it’s a spanking fantasy, it’s always a spanking fantasy, but she’d like to think it’s more than that: it’s a fantasy of morality and growth, redemption and love, catharsis. Humans becoming first less than human (the howls, the tears), then more than human. Loving. Whole.
Perhaps she is deluding herself about that. Or perhaps everyone’s fantasies are theatrical on this epic scale, scripts of archetype and tragic themes. She wouldn’t know; all she knows are her own fantasies.
She spent most of her life pursuing the climax of the fantasy, the ecstatic moment of catharsis and perfect union. Then she found it.
Someone once asked her whether this was a happy story or a sad one.
It’s both, she said.
All ended journeys are both.
I WROTE THAT IN THIRD person because it was too embarrassing otherwise. I don’t think I fooled anyone, though.
I TOLD A FRIEND HOW terrifying it was to write down my sexual fantasies. He read one and looked puzzled. What’s so awful about that? he asked.
It’s a good question. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who finds it squirmily personal to share the actual key that unlocks my sexuality. It was probably a little bit embarrassing for you to read, but writing it feels like those sweaty nightmares of being pantsless in front of the whole second grade.
I USED GENERIC WORDS for the participants in the fantasy because I rarely make up my own people. Instead, I use people made up by other writers: Jean-Luc Picard and Q, Batman and the Riddler, Captain Robinson and Dr. Smith – well, you get the idea. If I wrote the fantasy using those people, it would be fanfiction and nobody would publish it, because those people are owned by the person who invented them or the company
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