I was recently asked what I find so exciting about being submissive in bed. The question kind of took me by surprise, because it’s never really occurred to me to ask it of myself. It’s just always been a part of my sexuality, just like being bisexual has always been a part of my sexuality. It’s just there, and I have always assumed that, like my bisexuality, it was just a part of my erotic makeup. So I’ve never actually though about why that is. It just is.
But the question has stuck with me (it even inspired me to start this blog), so I’ve spent several hours in recent days giving it some serious thought.
I prefer my encounters to be with like-minded adults who are willing to explore their boundaries – and mine – which requires a lot of trust on both of our parts. But that doesn’t mean that I haven’t encountered a ridiculous amount of dickishness in my pursuit of the perverse. Many, MANY of the men with whom I’ve discussed my submissive proclivities have taken it to mean that I have no say in what goes on, that I want to be degraded and humiliated, that I would like nothing better than to call them “Sir” or “Master” and have them cum all over my face while I say, “Please, sir, I’d like some more.” Not the case. Not the case at all. And none of those dicks have ever shared my bed, nor I theirs.
The person that asked the question seemed surprised that I’m submissive at all, in any aspect of my life. That’s because outside of the bedroom, I’m a total control freak and like to have everything go the way I want it to go, as quickly and smoothly as possible. I appear, on the surface, to be a woman who decides what she wants and then goes after it.
The control freak thing is no mystery. Ask any professional dom and he or she will tell you that many of their clients are people in a position of authority with a lot of decision-making on their shoulders. They come to the dom because, at least for the time that they’re with their dom, they don’t HAVE TO make all the decisions, and they can cut loose and be free of all of that, if only for a little while. I’m the same way.
I’m not a lifestyle submissive. I’ve no desire to live my life walking 10 paces behind my master, being told what to eat, what to wear, waiting for permission to speak. One guy actually had the idea that he could “break me.” (Never actually hook up with strangers on FetLife.) Clearly he was wrong (never slept with him, either, glad I met him at Starbucks and he doesn’t know my address – creeper); there is no way that I could ever live like that.
But sexually? First of all, despite my seemingly strong will, I’ve never once made the first move with any man. It probably has to do with my self esteem or something, making me feel like I’m automatically going to be rejected. So in that aspect, I need the presence of a more alpha partner to let me know they want me. Doesn’t matter how much I may want YOU, I’m never going to tell you that or make a move on you, you’re going to have to be the one to get the ball rolling.
Which leads us to the bedroom sub thing. As I said, I’ve always needed the other person to make the first move. And that includes in the bedroom, and it’s been like that since my first boyfriend, back in the misty before-times. He let me know he wanted me, and I had to ask him what he wanted me to do. And the more he told me what he wanted, and how good it was making him feel that I was doing it just like he told me to do it, the hotter I got. Naturally, he didn’t tie me up or paddle me or anything that first time – having my virginity taken was enough of an awakening for that night. But I started fantasizing about him ordering me around in bed, and that put all kinds of other ideas in my head. He wasn’t into bondage or spanking, and eventually we split up. But by that time I was 18, which was the legal age in NY, so I found myself going to clubs with my friends. One of those clubs turned out to be a BDSM club, similar to the current Paddles on 26th Street in Chelsea. And I swear to the gods, the moment I saw all those people finding such intense pleasure by giving themselves over to the ecstasy of the moment, combining pain and pleasure into something akin to sexual ambrosia, I felt like I’d come home.
I was chatted up by a seemingly nice guy at the bar, and I gave him my phone number. We met for drinks the next night, and he very openly explained the whole scene to me. He also told me that he wanted me, but that he would wait until I felt like I had developed enough trust in him to be able to submit willingly. We discussed boundaries and safe words and a lot of other things. A few weeks later, I was ready. And my life hasn’t been the same since. And no, there was nothing “50 Shades” about the whole conversation; no contracts, no non-disclosure agreements, nothing even remotely as creepy as that scene in the book or the movie.
So, why is it such a turn-on for me? One of the biggest reasons is that, by allowing my partner to take the lead, and to control the environment and the situation, it frees my head up from worrying about whether I’m attractive enough (especially naked – face it, ladies, we all have that hangup no matter how beautiful we may be). It’s clear from the beginning that the dominant partner wants you – he’s willing to tie you to the bed to keep and fuck you. Having myself bound hand and foot, immobile, a blindfold covering my eyes, and having such unadulterated trust in another person is probably the most exciting thing I can think of. I mean, the blindfold – not being able to see, AT ALL, and having your hands tied over your head so you can’t even move it to peek a little – allows your other senses to become so heightened that everything from the lightest tickle of a feather to clamps being tightened on your nipples feels 100 times more intense.
I cannot overstate how much I love to be blindfolded and tied up. There’s just nothing I can think of that’s more erotic, more scorchingly hot, than being helpless and blind and at the mercy of your partner, while they tease you with a feather, lightly run their fingertips over every inch of you, then run their tongue over every inch of you, and you can’t see it but oh my God you can feel it, feel it so much, and then they allow you your release, sometimes after impaling you hard and urgent, and the orgasm is mind blowing.
It’s certainly not about degradation and humiliation, yet I hear from so-called feminists all the time about how what I do in bed is a slap in the face to my “sisters,” my response to which is “Bitches, please.” Sexual freedom, the ability to fearlessly pursue what gives you your best orgasm, your most blissful copulation, doesn’t make you a bad feminist. If anything, it makes you a better one. I’ve never had a partner think it was okay to push past a safe word, or think it was okay to spit on me when I hadn’t consented to it, or do anything else that I wasn’t willing to try. It’s a singularly trusting kind of relationship, and the reality of it is, despite the fact that I may be tied up or otherwise immobilized, as the submissive party, I’m the one actually holding the control. Because I can call an end to any activity at any time, if I feel like I’m reaching my limit or I’ve gone beyond my limits.
It’s not about the pain either. I don’t object to paddling or spanking (not a fan of whips, though), because, when performed correctly, neither of those things inflicts overwhelming pain – they just heighten your senses more.
The bottom line is, I find it utterly liberating to let myself go to the farthest edges of my sexuality, and to be with someone I trust to go there with me. I don’t need to be tied up or wearing genital clamps to go there (although they are fun); with the right amount of trust in my partner, a “regular” sex session can turn into a rapturous experience, with no props at all. I love kissing, I could kiss for hours. I don’t need to be forced to do that, either. I don’t need to be forced to do anything. If it brings my partner pleasure to cuff me to the bed, or tie me to the table, or tease me to the very edge of orgasm and then pull back until I’m almost out of my mind with need, well, then, it gives me pleasure to pleasure him (or her, as the case may be). I find nothing more arousing than seeing my partner take pleasure in my body and in what he’s doing to it and in what we’re doing to each other.
So, there you have it, question guy. It’s exciting because it’s liberating, and intense, and it involves a deep level of trust, which is also liberating, since I don’t trust easily. To know that I can take myself all the way to the edge of the world, and to have someone there to make sure I don’t fall off? What could be sexier than that?