Demeter Untouched

35/F/Paris. I accept messages from other women only.

[demeteruntouched]

I'm Demeter. Make of this what you will.

You may reblog anything, including my nudes. You can find all my photography at #demeter on film.

Asks are open and they're not anonymous. I like receiving respectful questions.

DMs are only for women.

And finally I received a question about "spam liking"? It's encouraged. Get obsessed and be a little creep.

[demeteruntouched]

As a lifelong submissive, 97% of my emotions are wishing that from the start, I could have given my former Dominants the improved version of me that existed by the time they were done.

[demeteruntouched]

"Do you find me sadistic?"

This is an essay about BDSM themes in Kill Bill.

From the very beginning, we are told that this film — at least from Bill's point of view — is defined by sadism and masochism.

This would be a great moment to note that the film doesn't show a BDSM dynamic between the Bride and Bill, but an abusive one, in an exaggerated fictional story. But there are plenty of reasons it turns me on, as an experienced submissive who is into fucked up stuff.

First: the amount of straightforward fetish content. Obviously there is foot fetish content because this is a Tarantino movie, bondage, spanking, schoolgirl outfits, nurse outfits, confinement, amputation, and the cruel tutelage of Pai Mei.

My only true fetish: eyepatches.

Kill Bill is also very concerned with suffering. The Bride finds deep meaning in her suffering at the hands of Pai Mei, smiles when she remembers his training, and is appalled when she learns that Elle disobeyed and poisoned him. But he is extremely cruel, beating her with a cane, threatening her with sleeping outside "like a dog," forcing her to practice punching a wood block until her hands are too stiff and too painful to hold chopsticks to eat. She accepts this.

With Hattori Hanzō, too, she is respectful, earnest, and appropriately submissive. What we are told to respect in The Bride and in O-Ren Ishii is the honour and respect for authority with which their violence is tempered, compared to the cowardly behaviour of Elle, Buck, and Vernita. We can also notice that The Bride is one of few characters to correctly pronounce Japanese names, and to bother to learn Japanese, Mandarin, and Cantonese, to properly communicate with those she is learning from.

We see relatively little of her former relationship with Bill, but it is clear that it is an affectionate one. There is of course a suggestion of grooming, as Bill has already begun with The Bride's daughter BB. He calls The Bride "kiddo," he teaches her in a patronising and patient tone — he reminds me, at moments, of some Dominants I've had.

And though the consequences are brutal, both characters carry their personal qualities through to terrifying extremes. Bill is a sadist and a killer. He patiently explains to The Bride that if she thought she could never be subjected to his violent nature, she would have been wrong: "There are consequences to breaking the heart of a murdering bastard. You experienced some of them."

And so, he commits his graphic act of gratuitous cruelty — he shoots up his pregnant former lover's wedding party, letting her watch and shooting her last. He leaves her comatose in hospital, with no knowledge of what happened to her baby. (Long before all of this, he drops her off to be a student of Pai Mei, knowing his cruelty, and surprises her as he is leaving with the revelation that she will be spending years with him.)

While I hope not to be in a dynamic with a killer, something I have appreciated very deeply in my D/s relationships is a person's utter commitment to their role, to their own nature, to being seen for what they really are. Bill respects the Bride's quest for revenge, though he also is out for blood — he even stands down his assassins when he judges a potential kill not honourable enough — and, finally losing his fight with her, walks away to his death.

Kill Bill is a film about cruelty, and respect — about understanding the reasons someone would choose suffering, and the reasons they would inflict pain. It's a film about seeing the beauty in deliberate violence.

[demeteruntouched]

I'm a submissive who just got home from seeing Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair (the five hour cut of both movies in one showing). How did I not notice back in the day that this is the most romantic movie ever made?

[demeteruntouched]

Sending emails at work, as a service submissive (and sometimes mean Dominant): I do not understand the capacity of people to ignore instructions.

No, "sign this outstanding invoice ASAP" does not mean you should send an apologetic reply promising that you'll do it soon, and then not do it. It means you should comply immediately. In my day, we got beaten for that kind of attitude.

[demeteruntouched]

I miss desperately sucking your thumb, feeling your silver ring on my tongue, and begging for permission to orgasm. I miss you ignoring me and holding me down by my hair.

[kisseism]

gym inspo for you guys

[demeteruntouched]

J'ai envie d'un amour secure, des limites, d'être à quelqu'un qui peut me prendre en charge. Je manque la vraie confiance en quelqu'un qui me règle, dont les paroles font loi.

« T'inquiète, baby, » et je t'obéis. Je veux un monde fait petit, tranquille, mon corps ouvert à toi.

Avec tes mots, tes mains, ton strap — pénètre-moi.

[demeteruntouched]

Everything begins with controlling my orgasms my pleasure. When I am kept in strict denial, especially when you're stingy with edges... it just follows naturally that I listen to you for everything. What to eat for dinner, how to dress, when to sleep, with what posture to carry myself, how to address you, at what time to be home.

I still sometimes see people misunderstanding orgasm denial and chastity, as if it's purely a manipulative thing, where I must fulfil all of these other expectations because my access to pleasure is dependent upon it.

For me at least, the thing I love the most about orgasm control is how intimate it is. I get to feel your pull on my body all day. I become desperate to obey you because of how keenly I can feel your ownership of my body. I unfold in your hands, I surrender to you, your word rules me. I have no intention of trying to "earn" release.

And now this is how I came to realise that everything really begins with controlling my sleep. As an experienced submissive who knows deeply that my pleasure is not my own, it sometimes barely occurs to me to beg for pleasure. It usually does not occur to me to ask to come. What I depend upon most strongly is your permission to be conscious, or not; to speak with you, or not; to serve you, or not.

When you order me to sleep, you replace my desire (to serve you) with the fact that you know better (I must rest), and my waking moments the next day, bright and lively, will be ruled by your care of me. When you keep me up late serving you, my life is coloured with sleepiness and I can cherish the feeling in my body of having been useful to you.

I hope that you are reading. I still long for your order to sleep.

—and every time I was in bed nice and early to have time to ask for permission to edge, what I wanted most of all was to be seen obeying your rules, my bedtime, your setting my life to please you, and I loved it so very much when you told me No. and Bedtime. and Sleep.

[demeteruntouched]

I'm craving a firm hand, a strict bedtime, and no pleasure without permission.

[demeteruntouched]

I am restless in bed tonight, crying with need for a Dominant, for every ruler I have known. I read her words, those first times one beloved Dominant commanded me to fall asleep, the first thing I was ever permitted to do in obedience of her.

I lie in bed longing, and lonely, and afraid of the voices from the street outside, the passing cars. I hear sirens, and a dog. I cry through my blindfold. I need a protector in my life. I cannot sleep.

[demeteruntouched]

I remember setting boundaries, long ago, with a former Dominant. I expect any relationship I'm in to involve conventional romantic love. To eat at the same table and to sleep in the same bed.

It saddens me to see people accept less, or to be taught that it's their place. To be sure, some people enjoy unequal eating and sleeping arrangements, although it isn't my kink. I've always been a girlfriend first and a submissive second, even in TPE dynamics.

But love is the foundation of the kink that I enjoy. When I submit I do so with veneration and respect that turn into love, whether the love for a near-stranger sharing moments of affection with me, or the love for an established partner tenderly showing me a new formative influence. And I know I am worthy of love in return. Today I saw a "dominant" bragging about how they do not offer their submissives love, and it chilled me to my core.

[war-crime-wizard]

my blog is a safe space for me. the rest of you are in danger i think

[demeteruntouched]

Do you like living in Paris?

Very much. And within the queer community at least, kink is far more mainstream (and frankly, a more relaxed culture) than in the UK or US. It's also more normal to talk explicitly about sex, including in public.

I have occasionally realised how much Paris has liberated me when I see (for example) how much less open the British or American people I run into can be. The fact of my being a pornographer has the power to shock and disgust anglophones in a way it just does not with French-speaking friends.

[demeteruntouched]

I can't sleep because I hear men's voices in the hall. There was some big football match in Paris tonight.

My double-locked door, my glass windows, seem such feeble resistance. I got out of bed and put on pyjamas. None of these things compare to how protected I felt, naked, blindfolded in your arms.

I am someone who needs so badly to feel someone watch over me. Someone really big and scary. Plus j'suis effrayée, plus j'suis protégée. I lay here thinking about you putting your body and your passion between me and anyone in the world who would want to touch me.

[demeteruntouched]

I got tattooed for the first time last month.

It took six hours. I took it like a tough girl, breathing deep, rarely showing any reaction to the pain. I was not about to be inappropriate with my artist in her house.

With my forearm pinned in place, with a needle drawing blood all day, I thought of you, with all of your tattoos, and all your power. How you once made me whine beneath you. How you made me fight not to wake the neighbours with my screaming.

The American girls at the next table could not believe I had been sitting so long. They admired my arm, and the artist's screen. One of them interviewed me, as I sat stoically, for her documentary about heartbreak. She was dealing with her first.

I told her that the only thing that gets better with time is that we know our own strength, and that we can survive it, that we can endure —

[demeteruntouched]

This morning I've been thinking about people telling me my Dominant was strict, extreme, a control freak. About how others couldn't deal with her. About how she was too much.

Close friends giving me horrified looks when I would admit I hadn't had an orgasm in over a month.

And I'm thinking about how it made me glow with pride. I felt love burn in my stomach and deep into my cunt.

Yes, she's strict and mean! Only a girl as good as me will do for her! Of course you wouldn't understand.