I recently had dinner with a former partner. At one point we found ourselves having a very explicit conversation, and I mentioned that I've figured out how to come. He looked sad and apologized: "I'm sorry I was never able to get you there." I had no idea what to say. ok VI. S&M, Redux I finally came into my BDSM identity around age 20. At first, when I was faced with the fact that I wanted to be hurt until I cried and begged for mercy, I freaked out. I had no idea what to do about BDSM, no idea how to feel about it. The only thing I knew for sure was that I'd found something I really needed. But what did that mean for me, when I was also trying hard to be an independent, rational feminist with self-esteem and integrity? It took me years to parse out my thoughts on feminism and BDSM, to feel comfortable with BDSM, and to talk openly and comfortably about it. During that process, I got better and better at finding partners who were interested in my sexual desires and willing to experiment. I also got to the point of reading sexuality advice books on my own, including books specifically on BDSM. (For recommendations, please check the notes at the beginning of this book.) And I gritted my teeth, forced down my anxiety, and looked into books about the female orgasm. One book that came highly recommended from Amazon.com was Lonnie Barbach's For Yourself. By the time I was halfway through the first chapter, I was crying because what she wrote felt so true. At the end of the first chapter, I put it down and was never able to pick it up again. Barbach wrote compassionately about experiences very similar to mine -- for instance: [Are you afraid to talk to your partner about your problem] because you're embarrassed to ask for what you want at a particular time; afraid your partner will refuse, get angry, or feel emasculated? But she also ended the first chapter this way: You have to assume responsibility and be somewhat assertive. Our culture has taught us that a woman should