Hello. I play with knives for a living, you dumb shit.
See the ”Charming is as charming does.” section of the first book.
She’ll cut you. Now, behave.
Hello. I play with knives for a living, you dumb shit.
See the ”Charming is as charming does.” section of the first book.
She’ll cut you. Now, behave.
from Quote/Unquote GOOD PART # 2 – (happy birthday, mr. president):
“On your knees mr. president.” I rapped his ears rapidly on both sides of his head. he knows better than that. Rule # 15: you arrive. you kneel. you wait.
As I let you know in the first book: “The extent that I care anything at all about who you are or where you’re coming from or whatever your psychological motivation, spiritual orientation, physical compulsion might be in engaging my services is bound up in my own professional standard of excellence.”
But that’s Me. And in your world at any given moment, I am the only one whose opinion matters to you in that moment.
Like right now.
Technically, psychology is the study of the mind, AKA your “psyche,” AKA your mental functions from whence the term evolved. Psychologists seek to understand how what you process mentally is connected to behavior. They also examine how your biological makeup plays into what you ultimately think and how you behave, like whether some people are truly “born” to be submissive or dominant.
Context, kiddos, context.
With psychology, BDSM has mostly been treated in varying degrees of deviance as shaped by something people who use big fancy words like to call societal norms. And, what we considered deviant yesterday, like interracial relationships, becomes acceptable, or at the very least “normal.”
I already talked about how the definitive reference source for “mental health” professionals, the DSM diagnostic manual continues to update itself as O/our concept of psychological “disorder” changes with the times. See My previous Thursday Therapy entry: To kink or not to kink.
From the outside looking in, BDSM is “dangerous” or “scary.” And, what kind of freak of nature are you (?) the people sitting in their own glass houses ask. (It’s not really a question…)
Jennifer Sweeton, who writes for Psychology Today in “Out of the Ordinary,” a blog dedicated to “the latest insights into sexploration, alternative relationships, and different ways of loving,” explores how BDSM seems to be generally perceived by the psychological mainstream. In her article, “What’s dangerous about BDSM? BDSM: Loving, dangerous, or deviant?” she affirms: “By asserting that the inclusion of S&M in sex precludes a person from experiencing love, the article is endorsing the idea that there is only one way to love.”
Ahhh…love. That is what it all comes back to.
Hush, My dear little one, your protests don’t mean a thing to Me.
If you ever had or dare ever have any question, here’s the reminder I clearly state on the very first page of the first book:
I’m not a hooker.
Does it turn Me on to see you suffer through My creative indignities? Yes. And, as I go on to clarify for you in chapter six of the first book, “If you’ve made it this far:”
“In My business, what you pay for is the privilege of turning over your power to Me, (which inevitably involves humiliation.) A power exchange does involve sexual energy. It is a mutual turn-on. And, a form of sexual release can, and often does, occur – for both of U/us. However – it’s a hell of a lot of work to properly deal with someone else’s helplessness. Exhausting sometimes.”
And, if you’re smart, you know that My personal motto is:
This will hurt – love the pain.
So, back to O/our topic at hand – what about psychology in BDSM?
Since you pay for the privilege of being privy to My thoughts when you buy My books … I aim to hurt you as it suits Me. I especially enjoy doling out My loving discipline in the ways you are so obviously begging for – that you so obviously need.
Do I know for sure what you’re thinking when W/we are having our special little lovemaking sessions?
you better know the answer to that one, you sniveling little asshole.
A solid steady workout doing work I enjoy is the culmination of a lovely day. Having My patience tested is not.
Enough already. Here’s the fucking answer: whether I ultimately know what’s going on in your psyche is irrelevant to the context of the GOOD PARTs we share.
What kind of professional would I be if I didn’t train you properly to ultimately think what I dictate to you? However, as I’ve also clarified for you before, and – O. M. FUCKING. G. – how often do I have to fucking repeat Myself before you learn properly?
(Don’t answer that. It’s not really a question.)
I only deal in willing submission. Training you to think My way is not the same as kicking your will out to the highway. you must always have a will in order to be able to submit.
As you go through your day with any number of bosses, co-workers, friends, neighbors, relatives or lovers trying to get into your head: “No matter how helpless you let yourself feel on any given day, know this: no one can ever take your power away from you. you can only submit and give your power away. Even with a gun held to your head your will is your own.”
(Again, see chapter six of the first book.)
Think for yourselves, kiddos. And, go show yourselves some love – even if it is painful. Slaps and kisses.
“you disappoint Me with your hesitation, slave,” I said, slapping his face.
Listen up, fuckface, or whatever self-hating name you might choose to torture yourself with – I don’t fuck around with expectations.
Yes, I give my girlfriends credit. It is true. If you have no expectations going in to a relationship, you will not be disappointed. I don’t play that way, bitch.
I don’t play at all. I decide that you’re not a complete waste of My time and in return, you get the uniquely charming quote/unquote pleasure of My company.
Playful, yes. Play, no.
you cry like a pathetic little baby and I kick you to your crib.
I agree with Seth Godin in his concept of the paradox of expectations. High expectations, he says, will inevitably lead to disappointment.
That’s right. I expect the best.
Although, Seth’s road to inevitable disappointment is caused by the constant raising of expectations. Is that the snake that eats its own tail?
The road to hell is paved with what?
In Richmond, Virginia, it’s an endless string of spontaneously erupting potholes that never seem to disappear. Yes, I expect the best from the municipal street repair powers that be: fix the potholes or go to …
When you come into My life, in whatever capacity, know this: I expect the best.
My disappointment around what I expect in any relationship is relative to the number of festering potholes you refuse to fix.
It’s a good thing, kiddos, to venture out into the world with the expectation of safe travels. Why do you think so many dummies hurl themselves from planes?
Nobody expects to go splat into a million little pieces.
Nobody expects to be sucked into a pothole. But it’s mighty fucking inconvenient and unnecessary wear-and-tear on my luxury vehicle. It’s really impolite to slap Me in the ass with the bump of My best expectations of the best possible pavement for My fine-ass vehicle going bump over a big fucking hole.
Whether you’re foolish enough to jump out of a perfectly good airplane or foolhardy enough to enter into my life – you best be bringin’ your best bring.
I expect there will be potholes. Inevitably.
I do not hesitate to expect the best from you.
As a matter of fact –
in My world –
I claim it.
“you will learn to serve your Goddess properly,” with another slap across his face.
“Now, tell Me again,” I said, locking eyes with him as I pulled out a length of duct tape that sounded like it was an unholy band-aid being ripped off of naked skin, “how honored you are to be in My presence.”
“Yes, Goddess, i am not worthy to receive Your attention. i know that i must prove myself. Please. i beg for Your patience, Goddess. i tremble in Your presence.” And he did.
Let’s see you shake, kiddos. Shake your little asses so ferociously in expectation, you shake off the hesitation. Don’t be afraid to disappoint.
Slaps and Kisses.
|—||Lorna Pearce, from Chapter 5 of the first book.|
A kick in the ass is a step forward.
Whether you are the one giving said kick or taking said kick – (What? you don’t seriously think that ass kicking doesn’t require effort? (you sadly, sadly deluded child…) I told you in “Quote/Unquote GOOD PART # 2:(happy birthday, mr. president)”:” of the first book that I steer away from those who actually enjoy “strap on play” because: “It’s a hell of a lot of work to fuck someone up the ass.” –
living the kick ass life (in whatever form or fashion it suits you) involves forward movement.
I love what I do in My Kick Ass Life, kiddos. I have enjoyed sharing it with all you boys and girls here in tumblr land …
Since I stepped off into this grand (yet, still troubled – FIX IT ALREADY, TUMBLR!) little tumblr experience I thought it might serve mainly as a forum for My own brand of “Kick Ass Advice.”
What I realize now/today is that the world is full of pussies (not the sweet purring kind; the scared little shriveled up wiener kind – and really, I knew this already, this just reaffirms it) – who apparently are afraid to offer up their problems to Me to get some of the Kick Ass Advice they truly beg for.
Moving ahead (fully reserving My God, (for lack of a better word) given right to change my mind suddenly without any notice – Hello. Duh, Dominatrix.) – you lucky little bitches will be treated to My focus on: Living The Kick Ass Life.
Whatever your heart (and even the Baddest Bitches have one) truly desires – whether you hope to give a kick in the ass or take one – go out and get it already.
GET PAID, bitches.* WE CAN KICK ASS!
* you may still offer up your pathetic little problems for My own special Kick Ass Advice if you wish by submitting them here or visiting www.LornaPearce.com and submitting them there, (and you do know you have to press the “submit” button at the contact form…right, dummy?)
…She’s in my dreams awake or sleeping
Upon my knees to her I’m creeping
My very life is in her keeping
I’m just a prisoner of love…
Perry Como - Prisoner of Love (1946) (by trooper7h)
If you’ve ever been introduced to Me, you know that I am an unashamed, unabashed Capitalist with a capital “C.” (See the first book.)
As an astute Businesswoman, one of my favorite (business) books is “Sun Tzu Was a Sissy: Conquer Your Enemies, Promote Your Friends, and Wage the Real Art of War,” by Stanley Bing.
(There’s also my quirky fascination at the front with otherwise vicious successes bearing otherwise unfuckable-sounding names. Hello. “Elliott Smellalot.” C’mon already, folks, see the first book. Ahem – Rule #8: In the balance between sociopath and smart boy, don’t take chances with nerds.)
“Finally,” says Stan (the Man – in My (No, not humble) esteemed opinion), “Sun Tzu talks a lot about Tao and other spiritual kinds of material like that, which frankly, I find kind of offensive in a discussion about war, and killing, and fighting. As far as I’m concerned, let’s have the good taste to leave Tao out of it, huh? Blood? Guts? Raw, animal hatred? Sure. But Tao? Come on.”
I said, “The extent that I care anything at all about who you are or where you’re coming from or whatever your psychological motivation, spiritual orientation, physical compulsion might be in coming to call on Me is bound up in My own professional standard of excellence.” (It’s right there in print in your very first introduction to Me. Duh. I will not repeat myself a third time. you know where to go to look it up.)
Excellence, girls and boys. Have it.
Don’t sit back and pray about it. Be it.
At the end of every Warrior’s day – you are it.
Be ruthless. Being a sissy in whatever battles you choose to engage in (and choose well, My darlings) will get you nowhere except to the bottom of my dungeon.
Where, I will unashamedly make you pay for your squeamishness. Literally and figuratively. (Pay Pal preferred.)
When that earthquake rode through Richmond, Virginia recently, I didn’t feel a thing. People were amazed. I think it’s because I’m used to having the earth tremble beneath my feet.
Choose your best Warrior’s pose and stand your fucking ground, kiddos.
It’s not the knowing. It’s the not. It’s the not having the answer, not knowing when it will arrive and not knowing what you’re really supposed to be doing, thinking or feeling in those exquisite moments of torture where you find yourself suspended in the mid-air of limbo.
It’s the weightless, yet crushing torture of the unknown. As the novelist Milan Kundera philosophized: “the unbearable lightness of being.”
There’s a scene in a movie from one of my forays into, as I put it in the first book, “classic American films,” with Jennifer Lopez…
Stop. Right. There.
When you make as much money as JLo then you can snub your nose. Uh-huh – that’s what I thought…
So there’s this scene in the movie “The Cell”… (well, there are tantalizing S&M inspired scenes splendidly sauntering all throughout the film – it’s quite the visual buffet – and called one of the best movies of that year by Roger Ebert)…
like this one…
(Sadly as much as I searched I could not find an image of JLo suspended in her virtual reality getup. (It’s really tight. It shows off her beloved asset. you know what I’m talking about.))
Note the hooks in his back.
Every day, literally and figuratively, you or any of the persons around you is allowing her/his flesh to be pierced by meat hooks one mere step away from those they use in slaughter houses to hang a cow’s carcass, and then dragged up through the air to remain suspended for an indefinite period.
According to the avant-garde movement of suspension within the whole art of body modification at www.suspension.org
“There are many different reasons to suspend, from pure adrenaline or endorphin rush, to conquering ones fears, to trying to reach a new level of spiritual consciousness and everything in between. In general, people suspend to attain some sort of “experience”.
Some people are seeking the opportunity to discover a deeper sense of themselves and to challenge pre-determined belief systems which may not be true. Some are seeking a right of passage or a spiritual encounter to let go of the fear of not being whole or complete inside their body.
Others are looking for control over their body, or seek to prove to themselves that they are more than their bodies, or are not their bodies at all. Others simply seek to explore the unknown.”
Or, maybe you just have psychotic inclinations… and well, sanity is ultimately subjective, right? (Just ask your co-workers, your significant others…and on and on…)
So, kiddos, unless you’re looking for a party where you hang from the ceiling by meat hooks stuck in your flesh … leave the preponderance of NOT knowing to your higher power.
Now that’s an ingenious way to leave a man hanging…