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“Spanking and long-distance relationships”

P: Hey you, shall we entertain the visitors to our little site with some unstructured ramblings?

M: I'd like that. But whatever shall we talk about? (Reminder that it's your turn to pick.)

P: Would you like me to choose?

M: Yes please.

P: Okey dokey. How about we do something like 'spanking and long-distance relationships'?

M: Both things? Together? Wow . . . that sounds good.

P: Yes. Both things, because there are maybe some interesting twists on the long-distance thing for people with our kink. <smile>

M: I think you're right. And a lot of people that meet 'cross the net are far apart, at least for a while.

P: Yup. It occurred to me a couple of days ago that if we really wanted to, we could write a book on the subject. I was reminded of that one that B. gave you, which looked pretty basic. Something more kinky and well-written would be fun.

M: :)) Maybe Verdant would publish it. :))

P: I had that thought too. :-)

M: Okay, well if we were going to publish say a book or something (maybe an FAQ?? <g>) on having a long distance relationship with someone - what would we talk about?

P: <thinks> Structurally, the place to start would be where the relationships start, I guess, and then follow through how things get more serious and complicated. We could split each section into two parts: stuff as it relates to what we did, and then abstracting away to more general issues.

M: <nod> I think you're right. I think I'd stress throughout that the overwhelmingly important thing is to be patient with the other person and with yourself - to keep remembering that this is hard and that you'll have to keep trying lots and lots of things to find ones that work.

P: Absolutely. In our own case, it helped us a great deal that when we first met there wasn't really any idea or intention that this was the start of a relationship. We were just goofing around and enjoying each other's company on-line.

M: We were doing that. But also, because we were just goofing around and being friends, I found it really easy to be honest with you about my thoughts, even when I disagreed with you. Looking back, I don't think that's been the case in my relationships, I think I've tried to find agreement or just ignored stuff people said that bothered me. And that can work somewhat in a relationship (especially a vanilla one I suspect) where you live together. But when you're trying to feel your way into something more BDSM or even D/s oriented, I think you need to be able to trust the other person to be honest.

P: <nods> Yes. It's both easier and harder on-line. Because you weren't honest about some things, and they were probably the things that would be hard to avoid being honest about if this hadn't been on-line.

M: <blushing> That's true. And sometimes still is true. But much as I can be dishonest with you, I'm more honest than I've ever been with anyone. And yes, the lies did make it a lot harder, to the point where I came close to ending the relationship rather than having you find out the truth.

P: Because you didn't think I could deal with knowing that you'd not been honest, or because you didn't think I would like the truth, whatever that turned out to be?

M: <thinking> Both. I didn't want to admit to lying - I mean no one likes doing that (you'll just need to take my word on that, Paul). But you'd become very important to me, I mean, the fact you were attracted to and cared about me was very important. I guess why I was willing to break up with you rather than admit the truth was that I thought if you knew the truth you'd feel differently about me. It seemed easier to end things than risk being rejected. (I'm glad a friend talked me out of it, of course.)

P: I don't want to spend too much time talking about just this, because it would seem like you're being asked to somehow confess to a terrible wrong - which isn't at all true. But how do you remember being able to tell me the difficult stuff? What made it possible?

M: I'm not sure I understand what you're asking. Are you asking me how I ended up telling you rather than drifting away from you?

P: I guess so, yes.

M: Because those were the choices. Either be honest, or walk away and never know if you perhaps could forgive me. In the end I sort of decided you had that right - that I'd been dishonest, you hadn't done anything wrong and didn't deserve to be hurt. I tried to imagine how you'd feel as I did what I'd needed to do to end things - pulling away, finding someone else and in other ways making you doubt that what you felt, what you thought was real was. And so I finally just called you - no, sorry, I did it on chat in a computer lab - and blurted it all out.

P: But, you know, nothing in what you told me ever made me think you'd done anything (or not done anything) that needed to be forgiven. Maybe I didn't think I was entitled to that information - I'm not sure. But - as I think you remember - nothing you told me turned out to be a big deal, right?

M: Not to you. No, it wasn't a big deal. But it felt like one to me. Which is why lying is a bad idea, especially long distance.

P: Well, so long as the people involved have any intention of meeting. <wry smile> But, you know the real irony here. In conventional relationships, the stuff that gets hidden, often for whole lifetimes, is typically the stuff that is revealed first in on-line relationships. No-one in my family knows about my kink-side (I think), but it was really the first thing you knew about me. So people on-line get to know each other in a very new way, from the inside out. And I'm not sure if the skills for doing that are well-understood yet.

M: <nod> Though I'd argue that even if you're never going to meet someone, believing that if they knew what you looked like or whatever, they'd reject you, isn't going to make for a really good relationship. But you're right, there were points where something happened that deepened things between us (god that sounds lame). For me something really key was that first summer when I was off-line for three months and you started calling me every night. We've never stopped that, pretty much no matter where we've been in the world. I think it helped us communicate, but more than that made it clear that we were making that time to be together a priority in our lives. Remembering that you're a priority for me, and I am for you is important for me. And makes those times when I feel just crazy for thinking someone so far away could really be committed to me pass quickly.

P: How much had we phoned before we did that summer? I honestly forget the sequence of events. It seemed to happen really fast. What was probably only a couple of weeks seems like we did so much.

M: <thinking> We didn't talk on the phone for a pretty long time after we started e-mailing and using UNIX chat. (Which was all about you, of course.) I think we'd had maybe three or four long phone calls before you started the daily calls. And those were partly because e-mail just wasn't going to be possible.

P: I probably hated the idea of calling so much. <rueful> Not to do with you, but because I hate telephones so much. Really and truly.

M: I know. And you made that clear too - that it was about dislike of phones rather than the idea of talking to me that was an issue. But I think telephones are really important in long distance stuff. Or if people really can't afford to call daily, that come hell or high water they make a point to have an e-mail to the person every day, pretty much at the time the person expects it. (This is of course advice directed at someone who imagines their long distance relationship to be something more than a cyber fling - or something they're doing in addition to another real life one that's primary. I'm not sure what those would be like.)

P: <nodding> Hearing someone's voice is incredibly important. And so different from e-mail and chat and such. Probably they all have their place. It's hard to tell someone a bedtime story using chat. :-) And, would I be quite so keen to talk to you at 8 in the morning if I had to get out of bed to do it? <smile>

M: As to the first, yeah, because the person getting the bedtime story would need to be at their computer - which doesn't usually allow them to curl up with eyes closed. But as to the latter, if you recall, you not only called me at 8am that first summer, you mostly did it from your office, which meant you got up and walked a mile to do it.

P: <nodding> Yes, I did. I must have been crazy. :-)

M: I think we were both in a pink haze. Especially since it was at that point (I think) that we both got an inkling that this was going to be different than what either of us had said we wanted. That is - when we first started chatting, both of us had stated (especially you) that we weren't interested in having control or giving control within someone's real life. And I remember listening to you on the phone that summer and feeling your scolding me for real life stuff was like a little game between us. And then one day, realizing this wasn't a game at all. (Maybe it was the quite real anger you showed. Though that moment was in one of our odd on-line times during those months.)

P: What was I angry about, that time? (Forgive me for not remembering - there've been so many. ;-)

M: :b~~~ Well, I think it was that you'd been taking this seriously long before that. And trying to help me structure my time and get on track with a paper I needed to re-write. And I'd been flaking on it, lying about working and then having to admit to not, making excuses that were getting lamer and lamer. And that afternoon (I remember 'cause it was right after I'd picked up my keys to my dorm room) I'd gone on the university computer and we were chatting. And I joked about it - some little aside comment.

I wish I remembered it more clearly - but whatever I said made you pretty mad. Enough so you were literally upset with how angry you felt. And I remember sitting there, staring at the screen and seeing that and thinking I was at a crossroad sort of moment. I could either tell you that I loved you, but I didn't seriously want you involved in my academic life or I could find a way, right then, for you to really punish me for this.

And you know what I decided.

P: <nodding> Yes, I do, and I do remember. I think I also had to go out late that night to find somewhere that I could buy a phone card to call you, and nowhere was open. I don't think I get angry very often, but I think I was then. It was an odd dynamic, though. Despite being angry, the idea of actual punishment came from you. It was a moment of some sort of significance in all sorts of ways.

M: <wry smile> Yeah sure, you had to go find a phone card. I had about 45 minutes to find an implement in an empty dorm room and on a campus where everything was either closed or too expensive (I didn't want you to think I was making more excuses and so couldn't tell you I didn't have any money to buy something with when you'd suggested I get a ruler).

P: And it could be that it went a bit too fast just then. Because our being apart gave us almost no way to deal with it. At least, no way that we'd thought of up to that point.

M: What I remember from the chat - what you wrote that let me know how you were feeling and that you were angry - something in fact you rarely were was . . .

P: Hang on, let me try to remember . . . Something like: 'I'm having a hard time finding that funny.' Something like that?

M: <grin> That was the first part. But no, that wasn't what stuck with me.

P: Was it some sort of 'If I was there . . .' threat? <smile>

M: <smile> Sort of. What you said was along the lines of: 'I think what's upsetting me most is that I've told you I could never enjoy punishing you. But right now I could punish you. And I'd enjoy doing it.' Right then I knew you were really mad at me. And serious. Even if you didn't mean you could really enjoy the act of punishing me, that you could do it. And feel justified.

P: Well, it certainly sounds like I was serious. <rueful smile> Yes, I do remember that. I guess the nice-guy filters were down for a moment. :-)

M: You could say that. You know, before that moment, even though stuff had been sort of serious, it had all seemed like a complex and thrilling game. At that point it became real. And I ended up finding something to use that was really more painful than anything else - even the stuff you've used on me in person. Afterwards I was afraid to even let you know how much damage we'd done. Because somehow it had all be right. And you may remember I finished that paper within a weekend after that - even though I'd spent months avoiding it.

[note: the object in question was a length of TV cable (about 5 feet long) doubled and twisted.]

P: Yes. We kind of muddled through, I guess. I probably would have been a bit spooked if I'd known the real effect of that thing. Might well be a good thing I didn't, you're right. Still, this is all about exploring the space, and we both discovered a lot about ourselves and each other. Would you say that was the moment that we (at least consciously) stopped seeing this as interesting fantasy and play, and it became part of the relationship?

M: Yes. And the way I remember it was a choice both of us made without explicitly saying so. That you were going to hold me accountable. And I was going to accept that you could.

P: <nods> We've been working on that since, though the fact that this is still long-distance (though soon to change :-) means that we have to work around the difficult practicalities. Because our little branch of BDSM is somewhat physical. I mean, head-games can be interesting, but spanking really needs a certain amount of physical contact.

M: What I was going to say was that this gets us to surely one of the most embarrassing elements of our relationship (for me anyway) - the spanking and telephone thing.

P: Well, whatever else might be involved, it does seem that a spanking relationship conducted at a distance can't help but involve some sort of - what to call it? - self-spanking. It's not that obvious where the power lies, but there's no question who actually has to hold the paddle.

M: I know. And it really sucks. I know some people are into self-spanking - someone I chatted with once talked about how much they enjoyed it. But for me it's one of the worst things. If you weren't so stubborn I don't think it would have happened nearly so much.

P: Well, I'm not sure how much it's possible for us to do it in a way that's terribly pleasurable - even to the extent that you find being spanked pleasurable. But, keeping it for punishment, or something more like regular discipline, means that the fact that it's hard and embarrassing and such doesn't really work against it.

M: No lie. And I'm not into being really punished by spanking in person either. But I think I'd rather be spanked by you than say need to go off-line for a week. But I'd choose going off-line over having to spank myself over the phone. It's a pretty strong dislike for me. Though over the last three years I've reached an acceptance of it - don't try and argue or fake it nearly so much. Which I again blame your stubbornness for. Because you've sort of provided that no matter how much I fight it you're going to do it anyway.

P: <nodding> I think I've/we've worked out how to do it so that it's hard for you to fake, which might be seen as making it somehow easier - I dunno. But, yes, it's sucky, and I know that. It's a necessity rather than something that's desirable.

M: <nod> Yes. Other sucky things about long distance relationships are they're expensive and require a commitment of resources in a big way.

P: <wry smile> No kidding. Yes, that alone puts a strain on a relationship like this one. And it doesn't help that we're both grad students, who aren't noted generally for their wealth. But, as always, when something's important, you find a way to make it work.

M: That's true about us being grad students making it hard to find cash for visits and phone calls. But in fact we have. Because there isn't anything else either of us would want to do more with what little money we do have. Also, if I wasn't a grad student I couldn't have come over there for weeks and months at a time. And vice versa.

P: That's a really good point. We do have a certain amount of freedom of time - or had, anyway. And we've made it a priority to see each other when we can.

M: <nod> It's been a long time, though. We met about 4 years ago today.

P: It's been a long time. <distant gaze> But we're close now. In a funny way, it would be a hell of a lot harder for us to have met now, because of the increased demands on our time. We're both way busier than we were then. So there's always a silver-lining if you look hard enough. Which I don't really believe, but don't let on. :-)

M: <giggle> Too true, Dorothy. But yes, chance is an amazing thing. We were both in the right place at the right moment in each other's lives.

P: Yup. Look at how long you were actually on-line before you wrote to me. <smile>

M: <blush> I'd been e-mailing on-line for a long time. But this was my first venture ('cause I'd only just found it) into the kinky on-line world. Do you know the long distance thing didn't get hard for me until after we met in person? Before that it was just fun for its own sake.

P: Perhaps until I came, you didn't really believe I ever would. I remember the weeks and months before I came, you kept asking me, and I'm not sure you were ever really sure until I set off. Or maybe until I landed. <smile>

M: <grin> No, I was sure when you bought the ticket (can't waste good money after all). But I do remember thinking to myself about what on earth I'd do with you for a month if we didn't get along. That seemed like such a long time to share my small room.

P: And your small bed. :-) At least for that first night.

M: LOL . . . yes, you know you're in love when you can share a twin bed. Of course I came up with something for you to do - moving me to a new room. :))

P: Yes, well, you seem to excel at finding things for me to do, sweetie. Good thing I'm so placid and even-tempered.

M: And strong, too. <fondly smiling and patting your head> Just like a tame oxen. Ox? One only of course.

P: Ox, yes. :-) But, until we do get to finally share a bed, and for the past couple of years, I reckon we've done as well as anyone could be expected to in having a relationship like this at a distance. It's hard, but we've not only kept the relationship strong, we've worked out ways to explore the spanking thing, and make it part of the relationship.

M: Yes, I mean as much as I hate the long distance part of our relationship, it was really only a year and a half ago that I felt that our being apart had stopped having any positive aspects. Because before that, I think if we'd been able to live together, the dynamic between us would have been harder to develop. What I'm talking about is you being responsible for me in some ways - that part of it. I think it was a lot easier for me to be vulnerable and open up on-line or over the phone - doing it in person would have seemed too risky. By the time we got together, we were both already getting comfortable with it. And now it's natural, not something either of us can hide from the other.

P: <smile> Yes, I think the fact that this is natural for us both has been one of the big discoveries of the past few years. How we actually do that part of the relationship will change some when we're together, but not too much, I don't think.

M: No . . . though I've kept in mind Summer's caution that some of the testing stuff will probably happen again. Also, um, there's a lot of stuff that slides now. Not sure you really realize that.

P: <smile> It's okay. I do understand how things are. But then, it's possible there's reluctance on my part at times to take that stuff on board now, because it's much harder to actually deal with at a distance. Whereas together it'll be easier in a number of practical ways. There'll need to be some time spent settling down into the right routines and stuff, but we'll work it out.

M: <nod> It's just good not to pretend that just because long distance is difficult that real life is easy. :)

P: Absolutely, yes. It has its own problems too. We'll deal with them in just the same way we've dealt with the long-distance ones. :-) Are there, do you think, some aspects of the D/s part of the relationship - if I can call it that - which actually work better at a distance? I know that some of them are compromises, but are there any ways that being at a distance actually works better?

M: <thinking> I think earlier on it does, at least for me. As a female on the net I felt a lot safer - you can look away and hide from the intensity.

P: Yes. There's a kind of built in safety net. You could even just walk away completely if you felt you wanted to or needed to.

M: That makes it easier to be honest - to push the edges inside your head. What I mean is, not being able to touch each other, we had to really push to be not just truthful but very open. Also, writing for me is a medium where I tend to be more introspective than I am in person.

P: That might be true generally. How do you feel about other spanking-related stuff that we've brought into the relationship at a distance, other than spanking? How would you characterise them?

M: Not sure what you mean - like uniforms? Or like lines and stuff like that?

P: All of those, really. I guess I'm just wondering about the sorts of things that we've done that have involved something closer to D/s, rather than spanking, and how they fit into a long-distance relationship.

M: For me they've underlined the degree to which we've - well, for lack of a better way of saying it - the degree to which you have control over me. Because if I'll wear something I really don't want to, or do something I don't want to or not go on-line for days because I'm being punished, even though you're 6000 miles away and it really isn't something I feel I'm choosing each time, then things have gone pretty deep. And it must be what I really want. If we were together I might be able to pretend to myself that I was being 'forced' each time. But I know that's not really how it is.

P: Yet you could not do many of these things, and I might not know. So what makes you do them? That you couldn't not tell me?

M: That you 'd ask. And to not tell you I'd need to lie. And, while I'd like to say that I've found I can't lie to you any more because it's so bad for our relationship, the truth is that you find out I've lied about 1/2 the time. And have become pretty heavy about punishing that when we're together. I honestly feel afraid of the consequences when I lie to you. Which may be why you seem to be able to hear them in my voice better now.

P: <nodding> Yes, I think so, as well as just knowing you so much better. I'm really very glad that lying is so much harder. I know it makes things harder for you sometimes, but in the long run I think it's easier for the relationship, and hopefully makes hard decisions easier.

M: Oh, probably. You know, as I wrote this, I realized I still think about those three days in a row in New England when you spanked me (with the hairbrush) for three lies I'd told you while we were apart. And how shocked I was that you really were going to do it again after the first one. And how much that thing hurts when I'm already sore.

P: I'm so stubborn, I'd probably have done it even if I'd thought it was a terrible idea. <wry smile> I guess that was really important. That's what I'd said was going to happen, so it had to happen. Otherwise, why would you believe me afterwards?

M: Does that mean that after the first night you thought it was a terrible idea? <hopeful>

P: No, that's not what I mean. <smile> I mean that I'd probably have done it even if I'd thought it was.

M: Ah. <smallish scowl> I think it was a terrible idea.

P: But, as you've just admitted, you still think about it.

M: Because it was so terrible! Anyway, what good things do you think come from the distance? Or have come anyway.

P: I'm not sure. Given how introverted I am, and how protective of my time and space, it's quite possible that I'd have resisted any growth of the relationship in person so strongly that it wouldn't ever have got started. You really persisted with me until my resistance crumbled. :-) The moment I wrote that first story for you, was probably as much a surrender as anything else.

M: <nod> That makes sense. I think we both needed the e-mail to learn about each other. I don't think we could have otherwise. And it did create some good stories too. :)

P: Yes, it did. :-)

M: <thinking> There was something else. Oh yes. In a post on SSS and then again now, you equated being emotionally vulnerable/open with either submission or surrender. That honestly blows me away. :)

P: I guess it's revealing - whether intentionally or not - that I've presented it that way. I'm speaking really only for myself here, and what submission/bottoming means for me. I don't think it's necessarily the same for everyone. But because I am so protective of my emotions and feelings, releasing that protection is really an act of submission. I mean, submission is obviously about giving up control, and control of my own emotions, how much of them I show to other people, is such a fundamental part of me, that it seems pretty obvious why that's so closely associated for me with bottoming.

M: I guess I don't disagree with that. But you had to open up to develop your relationship with me - which is one where you're in, well, less of a topping role (because that's really more of what happens in a scene rather than in life) but a guardian one. To get there, you had to open up to me and yourself that you wanted that sort of relationship, at least with me.

P: Partly, yes. And that certainly took time, and a lot of introspection. But it doesn't have the same feeling of opening up vulnerabilities, I think. Being in control means being able to protect those most of all.

M: <thinking> I'm not sure. You have a very deep (at least it seems so to me) concern/worry about being controlling of other people. Especially of women - a concern about (no, not being seen) being overbearing - you know, typical of men 40 years ago. Maybe even of both of our fathers. I think by taking on the responsibility of taking care of me (in some ways, but still) you trusted me not to use that to attack that vulnerability - to value and see the difference between you being responsible and you being overbearing. The same way I trust you to not see me as weak.

P: Honestly, I'm not sure how much that was a worry, at least once I realised this was right for you. That doesn't mean it was necessarily easy for me to do - I don't think I always have the self-confidence that I think it needs - but those were somewhat issues with my instinctive self, rather than issues relating to cultural stereotypes and such. Does that make sense?

M: Yes it does . . . I'm just not sure it's the way I remember it. But then I don't really know what makes you feel vulnerable when you're bottoming. What I'm remembering was how important it seemed a couple years ago (to you more than me, I think) that people know that however things may look, I was your equal in this relationship. Because I never doubted that equality or my ability to make it clear, I don't think I needed to articulate it as much.

P: Right. No, you're right here. It was and is very important to me to make sure that people see all of the layers, I guess. That at bottom, there's just a complete equality between two people, but we build layers of responsibility and control and stuff on top of those. There are totally fundamental differences between what we have, and a somewhat stereotypical domestic setup of, say, the '50s. There might be some superficial similarities, but the foundation is radically different.

M: <nod> And I guess that seemed like a vulnerability to me because in almost every other area of your life, you don't care what people think at all. That's one of your great strengths. So knowing that this matters to you (though less and less as time goes on it seems) makes it feel to me like an area that our relationship leaves you vulnerable. That I think was the only point I was making.

P: I see. I does seem different. It's important to me that people see it the way it is, but not because the way it is would make me vulnerable. That's the difference, I guess. Letting go of control when bottoming is about having people see the real vulnerability, rather than worrying about them misinterpreting.

M: I'd love to go into what the 'real vulnerability' is - but I'm already late for a meeting and have to go. :((

P: Okay, sweetie. :-) That's okay.

M: <hugs> I love you, sweetie. I'm not sure how much anyone else will enjoy or understand it, but I loved this chat.

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