So, I’m lying on the floor, tied up in a whatsitcalled, frogtie, hogtie, random ugly animal-tie, on my back anyhow. He is sitting on the floor saying things and I’m trying to look submissive and behave like I care. You know, like I give a shit about anything else then getting fucked. Like him. He is a bit cute.
“This is what you like, isn’t it, you damn slut. You are just begging for my cock, aren’t you, your masters cock”
And so on. I make some muffled contributes to the conversation, thanking god for the gag because there is no way in a burning hell I would be able to keep a straight face and say “yes, master, I’m your slut”.
But, Silia, aren’t you submissive, I thought you were, everyone I know who is into BDSM and knows you claims that you are?
Well. Here it is then: No, I’m not. I just like being fucked that way. I like playing that role, and I like using submissiveness as a surrogat for love, when I don’t have that to give. If I can’t give you my heart, here, take my body instead and I’m sorry for the inconvinience but the heart is closed for maintenance right now. Will be back shortly. In the meantime, feel free to fuck me senseless and call me a whore.
Because I know what you can’t have.
It’s power play. I give you the power over my body, and I excersise the power of knowing that I can make you drool and beg and nag and dream and think everyday about the possibility to get that power again. And we both know that the power I give away is not real. It’s just play. But the power I have over you is very real.
And I use my power. All I can.
I can’t see anything holy about my body. I know I’m suppose to see it as some sort of temple, but frankly, I’d rather have sex.
I’m not submissive. I like pretending to be, but more then once in the context of dominant men or women I find my self more than a little offended that they think they have power over me. It’s a mix between Prove me wrong! and Get out of my face. I know I don’t like winning a fight, because my way of keeping control is to ensure the other part that they have control over me. I trick them. And when they indulge in excersizing their power, I grow cold. Because they are easy and I can manipulate them.
Do you remember the movie with Angelina Jolie, Girl, Interupted? She screams in the end of the movie something about Why isn’t anybody pushing my buttons? I know that feeling. Sometimes I’m standing in the center of a storm, pushing and pushing and pushing away everyone, but nobody pushes back. So I push a little further. This is not good practica in sex. Especially not when the other person is holding a whip. I think this might also be the reason that I almost punched a guy in the face. He just kept doing what he thought was ok, and I just kept letting him. Pushing him further away from me, making him smaller and smaller in my eyes, until all he was, was a drooling sexgraced idiot who was so distanced from me that I wanted to kick his ass. I didn’t. But I managed to get myself back to reality and stop it. I was about 30 cm from his face with my fist by then.
This is the sad post. I promise not to make them a habit. But sometimes I think it’s important to speak up about what drives different people into the whole BDSM scene. Even if we are all grown ups and SSC (argh argh, more about that later), many people both here and in vanilla land, are broken and looking for ways to fix themself. In general, I’d say, don’t do it my way. Try the happy go luck ignorant road abit to the right instead. So much more fun, even if I do get laid more often;).