Being Submissive Isn't Something I Do — It's Part Of Who I Am

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What I Tell Those Who Wonder "What Does 'Submissive' REALLY Mean?"
Sex

And it's always been that way.

I was 7 or 8 years old. I remember spending large amounts of time in the evenings, especially during and after baths, imagining kidnapping scenes, pretending that my ravishers were watching me, taunting me. I offered deals, I pleaded, I cajoled… but nothing would make them waver from their goal — which was usually unimportant anyway.

The only thing that mattered was that they held me, and they wanted to keep me.

I would continue playing out those bondage scenes in my head when I went to bed, using shoelaces loosely tied around my white childhood bed frame. I remember the shoelaces: white with some red writing and logos on them, although of what I can’t remember. I would tie one around one wrist, and then try the second — and it was always too loose to stay.

But maybe that was for the best, as otherwise, I might have no hands to type with right now.

I sometimes used a headband, crossed in the middle, to simulate a pair of cuffs or rope around my wrists.

I had conversations with my imaginary captors about what they wanted from me. The answers were always vague. What I could do to get free…? Nothing.

But the endless play, pleading, and giving in to their will provided me with hours of quiet, satisfying solo play.

I also had a thing for magicians’ shows on TV. 

I could watch for hours as they stuffed a lady into a box or tied her up in a cupboard. I would imagine myself being her, being in that box, helpless as the blade of the saw slid down the middle, or as their swords rammed through the cupboard at odd angles.​

The thought of potentially being sawn in two or impaled a dozen times, but coming out unscathed and beaming, held endless fascination for me.

My earliest memories of sexual desire — “feeling strange in my vagina” — come from watching these beautiful women happily facing pain and danger, tied up and helpless for the satisfaction of the man standing on stage and putting them through these scary-yet-exciting ordeals.

Wired That Way 

So is there any wonder then that as soon as I became sexual, I turned to BDSM?

When someone asks me how I got into kink, I simply say that I’m wired that way.

I have known no other way to live. I have found nothing else to turn me on sexually. Vanilla sex bores me to tears.

I know there is some controversy around whether or not kink is a sexual orientation. I personally believe that kink exists on a spectrum, from totally vanilla to totally kinky, and also that people can be brought from being vanilla to enjoying at least some level of kink.

In fact, a recent study conducted in Québec (my home province yay!) shows that so-called “abnormal” behaviors and desires, also known as paraphilias, are a lot more common than previously thought. So, anyone can be kinky, even though not everyone is.

But the difference for me is that I can’t NOT be kinky.

I have the ability to have vanilla sex, sure, but I’d really rather not. Just like no sex at all, vanilla sex leaves me feeling frustrated and unfulfilled. I would rather choose to have no sex than vanilla sex for the rest of my life.

And so, kink has become an essential component of my partner choice. The people I sleep with don’t have to be full-on sadists, but they at least need to understand that I usually require pain and roughness to get turned on. I sometimes choose more sadistic or less sadistic partners — there’s only so much bruising my ass can take — but don’t ask me to make sweet romantic love.

I’ll be like ... No.

I’m wired that way, and the sooner I and everyone else involved in my sex life know and accept this, the better everyone’s sex will be.

Not Just Sex 

As I grow and deepen my understanding of sex, kink and, submission, I also realize that this is about so much more than what happens in my bedroom.

As a strong, independent and self-sufficient woman, I find an incredible release in becoming passive, in letting someone else make the decisions for me. I crave protocol. I fantasize about simply kneeling and serving my Dom(me) a drink. I cherish the sweet cuddly moments after an intense and painful scene when they stroke my skin and pet my hair.

For the right person, I could easily choose to live in a 24/7 TPE (Total Power Exchange) relationship.

Although I don’t look it, there is a deep craving in my heart and soul to live as a submissive in the safety and connection of a Master/slave relationship. I like the idea of someone always looking out for me and protecting me and making sure certain needs are fulfilled so I can be free to focus on my writing and on my professional path to being a sex and kink educator.

Being a slave wouldn’t be a hindrance to my development; on the contrary, it would be a support and frame for it.

I haven’t quite found the right person/situation for this to happen right now, but I know that this is what I ultimately seek.

For now, I’m happy with multiple partners and wonderful lovers, with casual play (yes it happened, and no, it wasn’t that bad!) and friendly fun.

But, as my past relationships showed me, even if for too short a time, I yearn for the spiritual depths of a long-term D/s commitment, something to free up my mind and make my soul soar.

It really isn’t just about sex. For me, it’s about freedom.

 

 

This article was originally published at The Story Of A. Reprinted with permission from the author.