I learned a few things about myself one evening that I'd like to share in this newsgroup. The thoughts in the message are part of this ongoing evolution I'm going through in regards to understanding my attitudes toward public play. The term "evolution" is a little misleading here: what is changing in me are not really my attitudes toward public play but my understanding of those attitudes.

When I was vanilla, and when I was not involved in my disastrous long-term primary relationship, I would occasionally have flings, never one-night stands, but short relationships with people. I picked my partners based on outward aspects of their personality or physical features that fascinated me. These weren't people I had known very long; they were simply individuals whose outward aura, personae, act, style, whatever, infatuated me. These relationships tended to be short-term not because I consciously went into them looking for a brief affair (I always expected the "fall madly in love and live happily ever after" ending) but because, for the most part, we would both discover, after the initial infatuation had worn thin, that we were highly unsuited for each other in about 100,000 different ways. Occasionally an infatuation would turn into something more serious: my 1.5-year relationship with Miriam was a good example of this, but I believe we only became long-term because I did get a chance to know her personality a little more than most (over a computer, primarily--while we worked in the same governmental agency, we spent the days sending brief realtime messages and longer emails to each other across the tiled expanse of the large room we both worked in) before I leapt. But most of the time, these flames which burned so brightly in my emotional consciousness sputtered out into nothing after a few weeks or months. And I would feel hurt and confused about why it didn't work out...until a new infatuation occupied my brain.

In retrospect, I would like to ascribe these transient relationships to a youthful superficial phase which I simply grew out of, but while it is quite tempting to try to explain one's life in flattering terms of "constant growth toward the better," and while this might be part of the picture, it doesn't explain all. Many people persist in short-term relationships their entire adult lives. It isn't something one necessarily grows out of; in fact, some people grow "into" multiple or short relationships after spending years or decades in a monogamous relationship. It's more of a lifestyle choice, I think: people decide, as they gain experience, which types of relationships bring them the most gratification, and then they tend to pursue or develop those relationships that satisfy them more than other kinds.

But a lifestyle decision wasn't entirely it, for me, either. You see, everything about the way I picked partners seemed to change overnight when I got involved in S&M. Suddenly I was moving much more slowly, meeting people over a computer rather than in person, carefully scanning their messages for clues as to what sort of person they were, testing, always testing (I was then, and remain so today, very devious in my testing methods), probing for flaws, giving them every opportunity under the sun to hang themselves with their own words. And most did, quite quickly. The ones who didn't got more stuff thrown at them, stuff that I knew would cause a personality weak or defective in certain areas to reveal itself, irresistible bait, in other words. Anyway, I finally met someone who passed with flying colors every obstacle course I could conceive of throwing in his way, and I remain with him today.

Others who've passed my tests (I didn't just apply them to potential sex partners, but to everyone I might be friends with) have become or are becoming very close friends, and these friends-in-the-process-of- becoming (how's _that_ for a mouthful?--g) are the only people that turn me on these days. I think that once I got involved in S&M, something made me start selecting for the very long term, looking for people I could be happy with for decades to come, and bypassing the intriguing, exciting, but obviously superficial attractions. I've written before that when I meet a person, I notice whether they seem physically attractive or not but that this doesn't make one tiny whit of difference in whether I see them as someone I'd like to know better or someone who turns me on. Their personality is the only thing that makes a difference to me, and even if it is initially appealing, I always bide my time--waiting to see other sides of it revealed, watching how this person handles him- or herself in a variety of conditions and times. Personalities that remain consistently attractive to me, over a long time, are the ones that I court for friendship. Naturally, this excludes many people, as most of us turn out to be not really the way we seem when somebody first meets us. We don't try consciously to deceive (well, some of us do, but I'm not talking about the predators at this moment, just the average folk--g), but who we present to the world is often a shinier and far less complex version of who we really are. We learn, almost unconsciously, to project a persona from watching mom and dad and TV and the older kids we idolize. I try, in my search for friendship, to get behind that mask and see who's really there.

All this is leading to public play, bear with me. You need to see the background, where I'm coming from, before my attitudes will make much sense.

I'm going to digress and describe just one general testing technique I use to sort out potential friends, a very simple one, just so you'll know what I'm talking about when I say "testing." Perhaps you will find it a useful tool for sorting out potentially confusing computer relationships.

There is a very common type of person whose psychological makeup is such that as long as you remain aloof from them, they are attracted to you and will pursue you passionately, but the minute you show some interest in them, their ardor cools remarkably. They're emotional cripples, working with a defective and rather sick assumption: that if someone could possibly be interested in them, then that someone isn't worth knowing. This says bundles about their own sense of personal self-worth (or lack thereof) and these people, in my book, are not worth knowing--they only bring grief. I am not a savior or a therapist--I can't fix their sickness--I can only keep myself clean from it by spotting (and then avoiding) them as early as possible in a developing relationship. It's easy to make such a person reveal themselves. If you really like someone and want to find out before you commit too deeply whether they are this way, simply tell them all about your liking. Don't exaggerate, but don't hold anything back, either. Tell them specifically and in detail what you like about them, why you think they're so neat, exciting, brilliant, whatever. Write them an essay titled "Why I Think You Are Wonderful."

Such an enthusiastic and sincere outpouring will never be rejected by someone with a gentle, caring, compassionate spirit, even if they do not feel the same for you. Such an enthusiastic and sincere outpouring will be rejected absolutely by the sick (but very common) sort of individual I've described above, because they just cannot help themselves. The rejection can take many forms: sometimes they just stop talking to you, thus conveniently eliminating themselves without you having to do any of the dirty work . Sometimes they seem to accept your view of them as a wonderful person, but all of a sudden they are treating you coldly, their communications become intermittent, and the tone changes overnight to an arrogant: "I know you're helplessly infatuated with marvelous me and I intend to string you along just so I can continue to hear my praises sung, but realize Missy that I certainly do not and never will feel similar things for you. However, if you want to adore me, I will permit it. " Another very common reaction is that the person, now certain of your affection, will arrogantly equate this with worship and start to give you instructions on how to improve your life. "Yes, you can adore me, ho hum, but if you want to be worthy of me, you'd better clean up your act and be the sort of person _I_ want you to be. You can start by not drinking so much coffee...it's so...common." Inexperienced people, faced with such insufferable arrogance, often meekly bow to the person's demands and try to change themselves into a more pleasing partner. Only thing is, you can never change enough. No matter what you do, you will never succeed in pleasing this person or kindling a mutual love or interest--even if they deign to lower themselves to have sex with you--because the only thing that will interest him or her is if you suddenly become aloof and unavailable again. And then the entire sick dizzying waltz can start again: One-two-three, whee! (or barf, as the case may be).

In any case, whatever form the rejection takes, the vibes these "I'm Ok, you're not OK" cretins put out after being told they're wonderful are unmistakable--that is, they are obvious if you aren't yet so infatuated with them that you see everything they do as perfect and anything wrong as your fault. If you're insecure about yourself AND so crazy about the person that it's made you blind to everything, doing this sort of testing can be disastrous, but if you have a strong sense of your own worth, are not easily crushed by rejection (especially rejection from fools--g), and you are looking for those very special few who might be worth sharing your own special self with, this is an extremely useful technique--a real timesaver. If you possess traits of sincerity and honesty, other, similar, tests will present themselves--you don't need me to tell you what they are. You will find that you can use your sincerity and honesty in many circumstances as an anvil against which you can accurately test the mettle of others.

To get back on topic, the above was a sort of meandering tour through some of the building blocks that make up my present personality: a strong sense of self-worth, heavily motivated toward long-term relationships and friendships rather than short-term thrills, a love of quality rather than quantity in human relationships, very careful about who I become close to, a strong desire to always be sincere and honest, and a highly-sexed sadomasochistic personality who nevertheless can appear cold and frigid to the shallow or to those first meeting me, because my level of attraction to or arousal by a person is in direct proportion to how well I know him or her.

Now take all of the above and plop it down in the middle of the average play party, similar to the kind frequently described in this newsgroup and what do you get? (big smile) Well now, that's what I'm about to tell you. It's what this message is all about, after all.

I went to a play party awhile back. I am providing no specific details about this party that would identify it or its participants to anyone who wasn't there, not because they had a rule of confidentiality (which they had), but because I decided then and there I would abide by it, and I don't break my word to myself that easily. Confidentiality is a slippery term, by the way. Its purpose is to protect others. Some people interpret it very rigidly and, for instance, won't even mention what general topic was tossed around at a discussion group--such people are often people with a stake in being seen as or known as respected members of a particular group: people whose common sense is ruled by their social dependency. Conformity is all, in other words, even if it makes no sense or is, in fact, counterproductive. It's laudable, I suppose, if it's all you are capable of--at least you belong somewhere, are psychologically stabilized, and aren't going crazy from loneliness. Other people simply avoid saying anything that would identify or incriminate someone: it's individual human beings they're concerned about, not the rigid adherence to rules. I am of the latter class--I am a free agent in that I don't belong to any group and doubt if I ever will; the restrictions and conformity of one's personality which membership in a group or clique often requires is particularly repulsive to me. Still, I am going to abide by the stricter definition of confidentiality in this case, because I am sure that I can get across my points clearly without resorting to talking about the specifics of what went on at that party (and it'll be a fun exercise to try). Should I need details, I'll pull them from other experiences at other times and places.

Anyway, I went to this play party at this place. There was a group of people there, and they seemed like an absolutely average group. The people ranged from close friends of mine to acquaintances I had met elsewhere whom I liked and respected to more casual acquaintances met a few days or hours ago to complete strangers, of which some seemed interesting and some seemed uninteresting.

A broad spectrum of people was represented there: a wide range of ages, sizes, sexes, experience, intelligence, ethnic backgrounds, personalities, etc. You might find such a group at any cocktail party or beer keg or other social gathering that isn't too exclusive. The only type of person missing from this particular group was an actively or obviously obnoxious, hostile, or disruptive type. No one like that was there, although in such a random group, I imagine there would be a 50-50 chance of such a person making an appearance.

The people in this group had a brief discussion about a topic relevant to S&M before the play began. The discussion was disappointing to me personally because it was more of a presentation-style talk than a let's-all-participate kind of thing. Only one or two people were "called on" to speak, and the topic went nowhere. This disappointed me because I can often get a real good feel for what a person is like from what they say on a particular topic (doesn't matter what the topic is--what matters is that what people choose to focus on within a broader topic and the way they express themselves often reveals their interests, problems, obsessions, hangups, etc.). I did not know very many of these people, and I would have appreciated a little more information. I could have spoken up, as I had a number of interesting things to say on the subject based on my experience, but I did not want to rock the boat. And I think I was right. The general feeling seemed to be that the discussion period was supposed to be brief, a preliminary to get through as quickly as possible so the "good stuff" , the actual play could begin. You know, I think that it probably isn't practical to try to do both a discussion and a play session in one evening. If I were hot to trot to the dungeon, I certainly wouldn't enjoy having to sit around and toss some topic, or even listen to a presentation for that matter. If a discussion is to be taken seriously and desired by all parties, I suppose it has to be the only thing going on that night.

At the play party itself, I recognized feeling a little bored and out of things, but not too bad. After all, there were at least some people there whom I knew or whose faces I recognized whom I could talk to. People came up to me and chatted or made jokes, and I was with a friend who was having (and continued to have all evening) a marvelous time, and it was fun to watch her enjoying herself. When I got home, however, and started to think about the evening, I began to feel very alienated from the whole experience. I think what got me down were the scenes I witnessed. As this is the heart of the matter, I'm going to spend some time analyzing what I felt in response to those scenes. My overall response to all the scenes, no matter who was doing them and how well I knew the people involved, was, Hey! This is sex, this is so intimate. At the very least it needs a more private setting than this random grouping of people, who, except for a single shared interest, are so very different from one another. Some scenes I wished I could have witnessed in a much more intimate setting, say a small group of people who knew each other very well. Other scenes I wished had never happened at all, because the people involved didn't seem connected to each other at all--here they were doing these extreme things to one another and they hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words before. What's the point? Why do they do it? What did they get out of it? Are they really having fun or are they faking it? Are they doing this because they feel required to, because it really fulfills a need in them and turns them on, or because they are desperate and this is the only form of S&M they think they can get? With some of the scenes, I was baffled as to why they were happening in the first place; others baffled me because I couldn't understand why people wanted to do them in this particular environment. Please keep in mind what I said above about no one individual standing out as obnoxious or disruptive. All the people I met seemed, as far as I could tell from a first meeting, like pleasant people, nice folks. But as a group of people doing an intimate intense form sex which I personally revere in front of each other, this wasn't nearly enough.

I'm certain I'd feel the same way at a vanilla orgy or at a swingers' meeting. I know I've felt this same sense of isolation and thought "this is abysmally meaningless" at beer kegs and parties. But to add to it all this form of sexuality that I find so intense as to be almost sacred, being performed in public, without any of the depth or intensity of feeling that I am used to experiencing or watching at more intimate events was definitely alienating. (I keep repeating this word--alienation--because I can't think of any other more suitable.) I wished I could have stood on a table and yelled to everyone at that party, "HEY FOLKS! S&M does not have to be like this! It can be so much, so much much much more." But would any of them have cared? I'm not saying this last in a self-pitying tone; it is a serious question. What we had at this party were people at all sorts of different stages in their lives, with all sorts of different goals for themselves. As I mentioned above, my dear friend who came with me had a wonderful time here. She got to meet lots of interesting perverts, a goal of hers, and not being in the kind of relationship I am in or having the sorts of experiences I have, she had little better to compare the play party experience to. She had nothing in her head that kept saying, "Why don't these people do X?" because she hadn't ever experienced an "X" and probably wasn't aware that it existed. But I was aware of "X," I had experienced "X," and I felt in the position of a person who has tasted yeast bread and is contemplating explaining it to a country full of people eating flat, unleavened bread. My first impulse was to zip my lip, as people talking about things that others haven't experienced often get branded as liars, heretics, and enemies of the people. My second impulse was to tell it to the net and let _them_ sort it out.

Another thing that I saw in a minority of the scenes was what looked like some people "going through the motions," putting on a show for the viewers, and not really caring about what they felt or if their participation was exciting or fulfilling to them. If you're new to S&M, and you go to a party like this, and that pantomime is what you first see, you may come to the conclusion that S&M is about show and posture and technique primarily, rather than an exceedingly intimate and intense act. And that's a crying shame--it's like thinking all your life that crawling is the equivalent of walking.

I saw several dangerous things going on, and this was disturbing, as it gives an indication that the general knowledge level of the participants was lower then one would have hoped for. Some things seemed immediately dangerous to the sub, some were potentially dangerous to the audience, and in one case, something was done to a sub which could have set in motion a process that will ultimately result in her disfigurement or even death. (Would someone knowledgable _PLEASE_ start a thread about the recent breast-tumor findings which confirm the older breast-tumor findings? I don't feel competent to speak about it--I just don't know enough--but it's scary as hell.)

Another overall feeling I had was that I could be having so much more fun if the same activities I saw that night were being done among the sexy people I know well, or people I am growing to like, or people whose knowledge about and attitudes toward S&M I respect. I've explained why I feel this way. Does anyone else feel similarly, or is the general consensus out there that sex with strangers or in front of strangers is thrilling fun, more fun than with someone you know well--someone you've beaten or has beaten you hundreds of times? I certainly don't find this to be so--the novelty has just not worn off in my one and only S&M relationship, and I doubt that something as intense and as intimate as I and Donald have can ever grow stale. If I were more of an exhibitionist, I might understand the public thrill better. If I were able to separate bottoming from subbing, physical from emotional, I might find public scenes exciting to participate in. If I were able to find sex with casual partners who represent totally unknown factors interesting or undangerous, I might want to be involved in these sorts of play parties. But I did that last one back in my vanilla days, and I learned way back then that I hated it: I hated the transitoriness, the constantly smashed hopes, the faces that looked so beautiful one day seeming so repulsive and boring the next, the superficiality and shallowness of the dating dance. So while I enjoy the social aspects of play parties as a means by which I can get to know and to like individuals who might someday be close friends, the alienation I experience from watching the public scenes feels like a pretty high price to pay. But maybe not all public play parties are like this? Comments, anyone?

Perhaps I'll become immune to this alienation one day and learn to stop aching over how what I see in public differs from what I experience in private. During my first experience with S&M (a week spent with my master), I watched with him and another couple the HOM film called "Under the Bondage Big Top." Donald had never seen this particular film before, and he thought it was rather silly because they'd come so close to getting the S&M right, and then they'd do something absolutely silly, which showed they didn't have a clue. But I was meserized, horrified even, by the fact that the people in this film obviously didn't get it and that what they were doing was a horrible parody of the D&S I had always longed for and now was just beginning to experience. I shut down emotionally, and Donald had to retire with me into the bedroom for several hours to talk out my horror and alienation. Five and a half years later, I watched that film again and was now able to giggle at the amateurish and phony tone it had. It was ridiculous and pitiable rather than horrifying. Perhaps someday my feelings about certain kinds of public play will evolve to this mellow position. Until then, maybe I ought to stick to the burgermunches--which, at least in my city, contain plenty of delightful people and delicious food, without an alienating moment to be found.