As someone who is submissive, not only in terms of power-exchange relationships but also quite sexually submissive, I field a lot of questions about what that means.
“So, do you just, like, lie there?”
“You don’t care what happens to you in bed?”
“Will you just do whatever they tell you?”
“Awesome. I command you to suck my dick.”
Well. No, No, Maybe, and after you suck mine.
One of the things that get me going on rants is the assumption that so many people make that submission is tantamount to cowering in corners, waiting to be used and abused. There is an insane amount of energy, drive, will and desire that it takes to submit successfully. And by successfully, I mean to the mutual satisfaction of all involved. Because yes, submissives and slaves and bottoms need to have their needs met, too. And for some of us, one of the hottest ways we have our needs met is by providing pleasure to others, facilitating ease in their lives.
The first connection I made with how aroused I became as a result of serving someone else was an interesting by-product of a rather passionate affair I had many years ago. Interestingly, after a rather earth-shattering first meeting with a man who had a certain … something … that wound up disabling my not insubstantial defenses, and after a rather exhilarating, dangerous, edgy, deeply erotically brutal encounter, I had an unsettling epiphany. All I wanted to do was keep him happy. Bring him coffee, get his dry cleaning, buy his cigarettes (after taking note of what brand he smoked) draw his bath, find a restaurant I thought he would enjoy … anything to have him pleased with the job I’d done. And the more I did for him, the more irresistible he found me, and the dynamic fed on itself, a sexual weather system that exploded in gorgeous thunderstorms of intense passion and lustful liaisons. And when he told me how hard he got, how much he wanted to fuck me, and exactly how he was going to do it, and assured me that I was the cause of all of the delicious torments that were about to be inflicted upon my quivering, sweaty willing flesh? Well…well.
This initial experience was enough to turn my head towards a path of submission and service that I continue to walk this day.
When I was first exploring my submissive self, I assumed that deducing and doing whatever the dominant wanted me to do would be fulfilling enough, and I would be pleased by that and that alone. This is an ideal that some people hold holy: the selfless slave, the doting submissive who only needs the sustenance of knowing they did a good job to be satisfied. That affection, feedback, love and attention from the dominant is a “gift” that may be given at the whim of the dominant, and that they are not entitled to those bits of emotional nourishment. I have learned the hard way that a diet of emotional crumbs leads to spiritual starvation. There are absolutely things I need, as a submissive, as a slave, as a human in bondage, to thrive in my desired role. And that is part of what makes me who I am. It is not just me putting everything I am on the table that makes these connections erotic and beautiful and edgy and vital.
So. What about submitting, what about service, what about taking a thorough flogging, what about menial chores, what about being useful, is sexy? Why is it eroticized? What makes it hot?
In a word? Passion.
The first time I looked into the eyes of someone who was using me with a seeming disregard for my own satisfaction, saw the heat and fire in the eyes of my lover as they took what they wanted from me and effortlessly bent me to their will, when I saw how ferociously and almost dangerously aroused they became? That passion pulled me abruptly from the realm of what I had known about sex into a new place. I was rather shocked to experience the oxymoron of feeling closer to the person who was causing me intense erotic pain than I had to previous lovers who had been gentle and circumspect in their lovemaking. This realization – that the brutal edge of passion was intensely erotic and profoundly compelling to me, drove me to question many things. My sanity, first! But then what the root of that desire was. And then to question how I could have more, and more, of that energy in my life.
As I become involved in the Leather, kink and BDSM communities, I realized that that passion came in so many more flavors than even I could have imagined. The first time I was to do a rope bondage scene, I thought it would be quite tedious. It was anything but. I wrote a bit about my love for rope and how it evolved and certainly the intense desire that my partner had to see me bound and helpless fueled my own passion.
I have had other play partners for whom a very different a type of play ignites their own fires. And I have discovered that, for me, asking a new play partner “Where do you want to go today?” is the best way for me to serve them and, in turn, serve myself. It can seem an evasive technique to answer a query of “What do you want to do?” with “Well, tell me what you find hot, what draws you in, what it is that made you decide to jump into the is dark world.” But in fact, I learn so much. The dominant whose eye light up as they talk about scenes where their partner is squirming in embarrassment, the top who eagerly shows off an impressive selection of canes, the switch who loves nothing more than pony play because they know what it is like from both sides of the bridle, the master who is dedicated to their path of mastery and seeks their partner, their counterpart, in whom they will manifest themselves and invest their love, time and energy…all of them are now engaging in foreplay with me. Yep, foreplay. Because I am certainly turned the hell on listening to what turns other people on. And if I am interested in playing with you, I certainly need to know what pleases you most. What gets you hot the fastest, what you think about when making yourself come…over and over…in the dead of night when you are playing the film of your darkest dirtiest hottest fantasies in the private theater of your own mind.
The passion doesn’t have to be for a specific type of play in order to get me hot. Someone keenly attracted to me is more likely to pique my interest than someone who does not demonstrate an intense desire to get into my pants. If I am interacting with someone, and I don’t feel a particular spark, I can promise you that I will take a second look at that person if they manage to frankly express a sincere expression of the fact that they find me desirable. The people I recall with the most passion (and when I say “recall” I mean “masturbate furiously while recalling”) are those who were the most flagrant in their lasciviousness. From the ex-boyfriend who reveled in my fat belly and became immediately hard when I took off my shirt to the lover who agonized for several long moments trying to decide to come in my cunt or in my mouth (“Both are so, so sweet, baby, I can’t decide…” he whispered) their expressions of lust for me were hypnotic and irresistible. Passionate lust is sexy as hell. Wanting me…wanting to do bad things to me, and telling me so, wanting to possess me, use me, consume me, with ferocity and delight is an aphrodisiac like no other.
Desire is sexy. Lust is hot. Once I know what you crave the most, when you tell me you want me, and I have absorbed some of your joy and delight in these things, in me, I have a handle on how to do what turns me on the most: be aware, open, present, aroused and rarin’ to go and do what it takes to bring that fantasy to form. And I know this is true for people all over the spectrum of kink. Dominant, submissive, switch, top, bottom or just a kinky motherfucker? We ALL love feeling desirable, feeling wanted, feeling like the center of the universe for our partner. Regardless if it is for a fleeting few hours of play, a quickie in a borrowed bed, or a lifetime committed relationship: bringing the rawness of passion to the fore can move a quotidian encounter into the realm of heroic hedonism that will leave an impression that will not soon fade.
“So, do you just, like, lie there?”
“You don’t care what happens to you in bed?”
“Will you just do whatever they tell you?”
“Awesome. I command you to suck my dick.”
Well. No, No, Maybe, and after you suck mine.
One of the things that get me going on rants is the assumption that so many people make that submission is tantamount to cowering in corners, waiting to be used and abused. There is an insane amount of energy, drive, will and desire that it takes to submit successfully. And by successfully, I mean to the mutual satisfaction of all involved. Because yes, submissives and slaves and bottoms need to have their needs met, too. And for some of us, one of the hottest ways we have our needs met is by providing pleasure to others, facilitating ease in their lives.
The first connection I made with how aroused I became as a result of serving someone else was an interesting by-product of a rather passionate affair I had many years ago. Interestingly, after a rather earth-shattering first meeting with a man who had a certain … something … that wound up disabling my not insubstantial defenses, and after a rather exhilarating, dangerous, edgy, deeply erotically brutal encounter, I had an unsettling epiphany. All I wanted to do was keep him happy. Bring him coffee, get his dry cleaning, buy his cigarettes (after taking note of what brand he smoked) draw his bath, find a restaurant I thought he would enjoy … anything to have him pleased with the job I’d done. And the more I did for him, the more irresistible he found me, and the dynamic fed on itself, a sexual weather system that exploded in gorgeous thunderstorms of intense passion and lustful liaisons. And when he told me how hard he got, how much he wanted to fuck me, and exactly how he was going to do it, and assured me that I was the cause of all of the delicious torments that were about to be inflicted upon my quivering, sweaty willing flesh? Well…well.
This initial experience was enough to turn my head towards a path of submission and service that I continue to walk this day.
When I was first exploring my submissive self, I assumed that deducing and doing whatever the dominant wanted me to do would be fulfilling enough, and I would be pleased by that and that alone. This is an ideal that some people hold holy: the selfless slave, the doting submissive who only needs the sustenance of knowing they did a good job to be satisfied. That affection, feedback, love and attention from the dominant is a “gift” that may be given at the whim of the dominant, and that they are not entitled to those bits of emotional nourishment. I have learned the hard way that a diet of emotional crumbs leads to spiritual starvation. There are absolutely things I need, as a submissive, as a slave, as a human in bondage, to thrive in my desired role. And that is part of what makes me who I am. It is not just me putting everything I am on the table that makes these connections erotic and beautiful and edgy and vital.
So. What about submitting, what about service, what about taking a thorough flogging, what about menial chores, what about being useful, is sexy? Why is it eroticized? What makes it hot?
In a word? Passion.
The first time I looked into the eyes of someone who was using me with a seeming disregard for my own satisfaction, saw the heat and fire in the eyes of my lover as they took what they wanted from me and effortlessly bent me to their will, when I saw how ferociously and almost dangerously aroused they became? That passion pulled me abruptly from the realm of what I had known about sex into a new place. I was rather shocked to experience the oxymoron of feeling closer to the person who was causing me intense erotic pain than I had to previous lovers who had been gentle and circumspect in their lovemaking. This realization – that the brutal edge of passion was intensely erotic and profoundly compelling to me, drove me to question many things. My sanity, first! But then what the root of that desire was. And then to question how I could have more, and more, of that energy in my life.
As I become involved in the Leather, kink and BDSM communities, I realized that that passion came in so many more flavors than even I could have imagined. The first time I was to do a rope bondage scene, I thought it would be quite tedious. It was anything but. I wrote a bit about my love for rope and how it evolved and certainly the intense desire that my partner had to see me bound and helpless fueled my own passion.
I have had other play partners for whom a very different a type of play ignites their own fires. And I have discovered that, for me, asking a new play partner “Where do you want to go today?” is the best way for me to serve them and, in turn, serve myself. It can seem an evasive technique to answer a query of “What do you want to do?” with “Well, tell me what you find hot, what draws you in, what it is that made you decide to jump into the is dark world.” But in fact, I learn so much. The dominant whose eye light up as they talk about scenes where their partner is squirming in embarrassment, the top who eagerly shows off an impressive selection of canes, the switch who loves nothing more than pony play because they know what it is like from both sides of the bridle, the master who is dedicated to their path of mastery and seeks their partner, their counterpart, in whom they will manifest themselves and invest their love, time and energy…all of them are now engaging in foreplay with me. Yep, foreplay. Because I am certainly turned the hell on listening to what turns other people on. And if I am interested in playing with you, I certainly need to know what pleases you most. What gets you hot the fastest, what you think about when making yourself come…over and over…in the dead of night when you are playing the film of your darkest dirtiest hottest fantasies in the private theater of your own mind.
The passion doesn’t have to be for a specific type of play in order to get me hot. Someone keenly attracted to me is more likely to pique my interest than someone who does not demonstrate an intense desire to get into my pants. If I am interacting with someone, and I don’t feel a particular spark, I can promise you that I will take a second look at that person if they manage to frankly express a sincere expression of the fact that they find me desirable. The people I recall with the most passion (and when I say “recall” I mean “masturbate furiously while recalling”) are those who were the most flagrant in their lasciviousness. From the ex-boyfriend who reveled in my fat belly and became immediately hard when I took off my shirt to the lover who agonized for several long moments trying to decide to come in my cunt or in my mouth (“Both are so, so sweet, baby, I can’t decide…” he whispered) their expressions of lust for me were hypnotic and irresistible. Passionate lust is sexy as hell. Wanting me…wanting to do bad things to me, and telling me so, wanting to possess me, use me, consume me, with ferocity and delight is an aphrodisiac like no other.
Desire is sexy. Lust is hot. Once I know what you crave the most, when you tell me you want me, and I have absorbed some of your joy and delight in these things, in me, I have a handle on how to do what turns me on the most: be aware, open, present, aroused and rarin’ to go and do what it takes to bring that fantasy to form. And I know this is true for people all over the spectrum of kink. Dominant, submissive, switch, top, bottom or just a kinky motherfucker? We ALL love feeling desirable, feeling wanted, feeling like the center of the universe for our partner. Regardless if it is for a fleeting few hours of play, a quickie in a borrowed bed, or a lifetime committed relationship: bringing the rawness of passion to the fore can move a quotidian encounter into the realm of heroic hedonism that will leave an impression that will not soon fade.
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