I was at an event recently where among the multitude of goodies there was a tray of the most amazing chocolaty, gooey, calorie loaded bars that you can imagine. They were rich and taunting and no one could resist. Everyone had one, and raved. Some people went back for seconds, and it was maybe a little naughty but understandable considering the high yummy factor. No one, however, went for a third. It's not that we didn't want to. For a long time conversations were held in a huddle around the tray just so people could look at them and smell them, and experience them without the consumption. Eventually a friend of mine made a joke about taking them home and eating all of them later that night. We all smiled and made comments about 'only if' and 'I wish' and continued to stare longingly. The same friend leaned over a second or two later and whispered to me that she hadn't been kidding, when she was alone those bars were goners. It was at exactly this moment that I realized that this decadent tray of dessert was in fact, my sex life.
Technically I suppose there isn't much chocolate involved in what I do in bed (although it's not such a bad idea) but in those moments that tray represented everything I feel about kink and submission. Everyone has sex and it's publicly acceptable to acknowledge both that people have it and that they enjoy it. Everyone has one little piece. Some people go a little further and tell giggling stories about the time their boyfriend brought out a pair of handcuffs, or how they tried a vibrator or anal and how exciting it was. Not everyone goes in for this second piece and it's not something that would be acceptable every day, but on certain occasions it's understood, appreciated and probably envied by those who stopped at one. And then you have the people who want (and take) the whole tray. These sexually open, experimental kinksters know the joy that can be had from going all in, but the social stigma of gorging yourself keeps it hush hush. Try telling your girlfriends that last night your boyfriend slapped you so hard across the face that you bit your tongue, and that you asked for more. Try telling your work colleagues that you finally got choked hard enough that you lost consciousness, or that you had a belt used on you like a leash and you loved it. I'm no different from my friend, publicly showing the same restraint and respectability as everyone else only to sneak off and privately demolish everything later.
I have had a lot of difficulty coming to terms with myself. I can type about sex all day but if you were talking to me in person you'd be lucky to get the word kink past my lips. When I'm with partners I'm incapable of explaining what it is that I want and like. I cannot say the words "I want you to call me a slut" or even "please fuck me". Yesterday CP had me in my favorite position, on the floor with my chest and face on the ground and my ass in the air while he went for it. I loved it, I was incredibly turned on and all I could think of was that this is what I need, this was where I belonged. I know that he would have enjoyed hearing me express it, but all I could manage was a mumbled "this is what I wanted". Once. After that it was just a lot of moaning. Even while experiencing something that is clearly working for both of us, I'm incapable of expressing myself for fear of judgement.
My life has been full of strong female role models and that's how I was raised to be. Everyone who knows me well will tell you that I can be an utter bitch, that I am stubborn and willful and that I will tell people exactly what I think of them. I love being this person. I also love being held down by my neck while being told that I'm nothing but a whore. Can you see how these two might clash? How the people who know me as one way would have difficulty understanding why it's ok to need and want the other? I don't imagine that they could, and more importantly, I have trouble understanding it myself.
Sometimes I wonder how other subs do it. I read blogs and articles or look at pictures of real people who are happily giving up their control and aren't ashamed of it. They openly and proudly discuss their devotion to their Sirs and Masters and how content they feel when they're being of use. I think it must be a peaceful thing, to be that comfortable with yourself and your desires. Part of me thinks my life would become much easier if I could be as at peace with myself, but the other part of me is frightened of that state. If I do allow myself to find total joy and contentment in being submissive to someone, what's to say that it won't take over a larger part of my life? That I won't suddenly want something deeper or more rigid or 24/7 and that bitchy, willfull person will gradually disappear? One of my biggest fears is that I'll wake up one day to realize I'm living in a cage in someones living room. My actual biggest fear is that I'll be happy there.
How does someone raised to be a strong, feminist woman come to terms with the fact that she really just longs for dominance? How do you resign yourself to the fact that you're only ever going to want to push the boundaries, to try something a little bit edgier and a little bit more submissive? How does one convince themselves that the person treating them as an object still respects them as an equal outside of the bedroom? How does wanting to be strong mesh with wanting to be weak?
I don't expect that anyone really reads this blog, I can't imagine it's high on the list when people type in 'kink' to google. If, however, you have found your way to my array of confused thoughts and you have any insight or opinions to give on this particular matter, I would greatly appreciate it. Leave a comment, give me your advice, tell me your experiences. I've come a long way so far as coming to terms with myself and understanding that wanting one thing doesn't cancel out another, but there's a lot more to learn. Fortunately I'm willing to put in the miles. And the inches.
Especially the inches.
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