I sometimes ponder if I’m submissive at all. I know this self-doubt troubles most of us, probably because there are no real role models. They don’t tell us how to handle these kinds of desires in sex ed, and they most certainly don’t encourage behaviour like this. Choosing to act on desires outside the scope of normal or vanilla as it’s often called is choosing to step outside the socially accepted forms of sexuality.
Even though I realize how much I’m a product of this society, of this culture, I’m still sometimes really uncertain, if I’m really not just plain old vanilla. I’m comparing myself to Holly at the Pervocracy or Clarisse at Clarisse Thorn, and I see my dark desires as gentle little exercises for good girls. I wouldn’t do loads of the things they do, and none with people I don’t love or don’t want to have relationship with.
I just heard of a guy who has a whole wall for floggers and such. A guy I know. I heard a close friend has tried out some of this stuff too. I heard another friend entered into a relationship without any hopes for her boyfriend to open up for BDSM play.
And I’m wondering how serious am I about this? Could I live without it? What does this all mean?
I can’t even imagine how it would be worthwhile to just play, bondage or flogging or what have you, and not have sex. Why? It is sex to me. It’s part of the sex I desire. It’s nothing more.
If I ask, when I asked, Wonderboy to make me do the dishes, and got turned on by it, it was foreplay. It wasn’t rewarding in itself. I would be deeply unsatisfied, angry and betrayed if there was no sex at the end of it.
I don’t like pain.
I can’t handle humiliation.
I don’t really like far out bondage, hurting or even being uncomfortable. (I’d like to try bondage out more, but Wonderboy is not interested in any implements… yet.)
I like hair pulling, in a certain way. Big chunk of hair, lifting me up by my hair.
I like to be forced to do things, especially when it’s done by physically overwhelming me.
I like to be held by the neck forcefully until it is hard to breath. I also like to be put under a pillow for the same effect. I have called it choking and suffocating, but I’ve really never been truly deprived of oxygen. (I actually felt kind of insulted by Dan Savage’s latest take on things. No safety instructions, no between consenting adults speech – only the advice to leave that sort of thing off the menu. Like that’s an option. Hey you, lay of your boyfriend’s dick, why don’t you!)
I like being slapped but not really hard and only on the butt cheeks, breasts and face.
I like to be called a whore, a fuck-toy, a little girl, but I need to feel valuable and loved and wanted. I don’t want to be degraded by calling me unworthy or uncapable.
So, I like some kind of a fantasy play, but is it sufficient to be calling myself a submissive? There’s such a massive weight on the word, and in what it portays. Do I want to submit? No… and yes. Take my will away, make me do it, make me submit. It feels so safe to be stripped out of the power to even say no, even in fantasy play.
But it’s not real. If I get hurt the wrong way or if I want something I’m not getting I’m not submitting to it. I’ll say it and Wonderboy will hear and obey. When we play roles it’s so obviously a light play that even our voices betray us.
And still. When Wonderboy just kept fucking me after he’d come, flicking my clit, his whole weight on my back. Meanwhile his other hand was choking me, pulling me against him by my throat, and I thought this is too hard, he’s holding me too hard. I can’t breath enough anymore with his weight and the choking, doesn’t he realize I’m getting irritated and not into it, why won’t he loosen up some, let go of my throat…
And then I let go. I only felt his weight, his demanding body on mine, his hold of me, unquestioning of my desires. And I came.
But why? Because I’m a submissive?