You know the way you can hate yourself after an extreme scene?
Well, Shakespeare did too. And, of course, he describes it better than anyone.
Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd straight,
Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
And yes, I am here to tell you that even women with no refractory period can hate themselves afterwards. So can masochists who haven’t been cruel to anyone except themselves.
I used to get this feeling every time I read Alebeard’s Rape, Pillage & Plunder Stories. Never heard of it? Don’t. I used to swear I would never go to that website again. I was about as successful as people who swear they’ll never whack off again.
I think I only stopped feeling that way when I realised that in real life, I don’t need every boundary of ethics and taste to be trespassed. I respond just fine to BDSM Lite when I’m not a deprived, frenzied twenty-something.
I wish someone had told me that. I wonder if anyone ever told Messire Will?