I’m yours before you even begin to want it

It was enough to see that calculating look on your face for me to open up to you like a vault opens up to its rightful owner. The moment you looked at me the way a hunter looks at his prey - already dividing its dead carcass in his mind’s eye - I was yours. You could have thought that it took us two dates for you to have me (not particularly long). But it’s not true. It was a 30 seconds gaze. That’s all. Topped off with your cold, disinterested touch, it was a mixture that hit me in all the right places. During our next meeting, I was crawling for you on the floor and licking your feet. Apologising for a mistake that I didn't even make. Only to proceed later to worship your entire body, kissing and licking each (and every) of its parts.

It’s hard to explain what is happening to me in moments like that. People say that men think with their penises. I guess that you could say that in those moments I think with my cunt. Yet it’s not exactly that. Yes, it arouses me to be humiliated and objectified but not in a way that I imagine ‘normal’ people get aroused. Sometimes my pussy gets wet when it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. It doesn't really matter. My goal in those moments is not for my cunt to be filled. Even if I plead for it, what I want the most is for it to be denied to me. I get off on the fact of being emotionally abused, not on the pleasure of sex. It’s as if I have a second pussy in my brain. A pussy which gets pleasure from hurt and terror. A pussy which gets soaking wet when I am degraded or rejected. And it’s exactly that one that takes over when I meet a man who looks at me the way you did.  

I can imagine that it might make some people uncomfortable. The speed with which I give myself to those who I feel might give me what I desire is close to that of light. I’m greedy. And there are not many people who have the things that I am greedy for. So when I meet someone who might - I take my chances.

At the same time, what other people see at sex, I often see as a small talk. I do not feel like we have fucked until you have left me a sobbing mess on the floor. I do not feel like I have had you in me until my stomach gets twisted at the smallest twitch on your face. Everything that happens before is an appetizer. Something to arouse our appetites before the main course. Or not even that - a snack before the meal itself.  

There is another reason why I am behaving the way I do, I believe. I think that I also do it to establish our dynamic before you have had the chance to start to care about me. I put myself below you, take off the veil of mystery and show all of my most miserable pieces to make sure that you won’t fall in love with me. I demystify myself so that I can keep your mystery. I make myself available so that you will lose interest in me. To make sure that there will be nothing that might prevent you from treating me the way I desire to be treated.

I don’t lust after romance. I don’t want a relationship. All I want is to be played with and deserted. I want to experience all the shades of emotional pain one can imagine. I want to taste all the flavours of dirt there are in the world. I want to be a punching bag for you. I want to be despicable so that you lose all your barriers with me. So that you are ready to treat me like you have never treated anyone before. And so that you don’t regret it.

I guess that you could see it as an objectification. I objectify my partners to play the role that I envisioned for them. That role and nothing else. You could also see it as manipulation. I behave a certain way in a hope that they will behave the way I want them to as a result. And maybe you are right. Maybe I do objectify and manipulate my partners to a certain extent. The same way as I would objectify and manipulate a romantic partner or a friend to get love or friendship from them. People want things from each other. In any kind of relationship. It’s a give and take.

Or is it? To be honest, I am not sure. I would like to believe that my partners are much more to me than the things I get from them. If I devote myself from someone, I do not expect anything in return. I am capable of spending weeks without an orgasm, months without seeing them and I have a strong belief that my devotion can easily last till the end of my days even if I would never see them again. This is my gift. The allowance to give it is in a way all that I need. 

I think that the important question when assessing my behaviour is whether I see them for who they are in the moment they are with me or am I trying to fit them into a mould that I had prepared earlier? Do I allow them to express their deepest selves with me? Or do I push them into treating me like I am treated in my fantasies? 

To be honest - I don’t know. I would like to believe the first one is true. I want my partners to be themselves with me. Even more - I want them to be with me the selves that they have never been before. I don’t want them to play roles with me. I want them to express their deepest desires. I want them to let themselves loose. I want them to stop hiding the parts of them that the society required them to keep at bay.

And for that, I need to communicate that I am harmless. I need to disarm myself from all the flirting and games so that they can see through me like through a sheet of cellophane. Only then will they allow themselves to relax with me. Only then will I become as predictable as a household object they’d own. Only if I lose all the human complexity will they be able to do to me what they fantasized about but would never dare to execute on someone they loved. 

And this is what I want to be for my partners. Is it worse than love? And who gets to say it is? Who gets to decide that being a caring girlfriend they could show off at family parties is more valuable than being their dirt mat with which they never have to hold back? Isn’t the fact that they can be with me whoever they want to be without having to care about how it affects me something special? I know that many people believe that you could be both. But in the way that I live BDSM - I doubt it. 

I don’t know if my behaviour is manipulation or simply communication. Devotion, suffering and dehumanization are what I have to offer when it comes to romance. I am fascinated by the dynamics of pain and fear that can arise between two people. Especially if they are tainted by sexual desire. Some people want to have children together. I want to have Stockholm syndrome. 

Better to know it sooner than later, I guess?

Rope gives meaning to my pain

Photo by A-Nicolas

I sometimes wonder, or get asked, why do I like to get tied. It is a difficult question to answer because I like it with different people for different reasons. I like to be under the power of dominant men and suffering in their ropes is a way to express my devotion to them. I like to feel helpless and abused and rope is a great tool for my partners to make me feel this way. I like to serve, to please people with my being. I like it when people enjoy me. 

I could go on and on about it. The reasons why I enjoy rope are ever-changing but they are always strong. Without a strong reason to be in ropes, I could not show up for my partners and this is one of the worst things, I believe, a model can do. To not show up for the scene. 

There is one reason, however, that is the strongest, deepest and most personal of all. It is so deeply ingrained in my being that I believe that, in some way, it always shows up, even if my partners use it in different ways. 

Rope bondage is my laboratory for investigating vulnerability. It is a place where I research my openness and where I look at how it behaves in case I get rejected, toyed with or when my vulnerability is used against me. Can I stay with my partner regardless? Can I bear it and keep on giving? 

It is quite easy to be open and vulnerable with the people who you know care about you. In the face of deep and honest love our hearts almost automatically open up. But what if you give yourself to someone and they take your gift, throw it to the ground and crush it with their feet? Will you retreat into yourself to start licking your wounds? Will you close yourself up to them? Or will you stay with your perpetrator, blood soaking from the wounds they gave you, but you still loving them with your entire aching heart? 

There are two ways in which one can approach hurting other people. One can hurt them because one stops seeing humans in them like it is in the case of torturers or soldiers during the war¹. They are trained to see the people they torture and kill as objects, as a means to a goal, a necessary damage. They don’t feel with those they hurt. They don’t empathize with them. They don’t feel the pain of their victims. One can also hurt someone while feeling with them. One can acknowledge they are in pain caused by oneself. One can see their pain, go through it with them and let it transform one as well. Akira Naka sensei once said that he is not a sadist, that when he hurts the model he feels with her, he feels her pain. I believe him and at the same time, I would not necessarily say that it means that he is not a sadist. I believe that many kinky sadists feel with the people they hurt. Just like masochists can be transformed through their own pain, sadists can be transformed through the pain of the other, the one who is suffering for them. But to be able to go through that, they need to see humans in the people they hurt.

When I am being hurt, I want to stay human for the one who gives me pain. I want to stay when they rage. I want to stay when they torture me. I don’t want to escape what they are doing to me. I don’t want to leave my body and go with my mind somewhere else. I want to stay for them just where they’ve put me. I want to hold space for them. I want to withstand their storm and meet them at the other end with my arms wide open. I want both of us to be transformed by what I am going through. They are making all that effort to hurt me, I don’t want it to be wasted on me hiding away. 

I can imagine that hurting people is not an easy thing to do. It must not be easy to allow oneself to act upon the dark urges that hide within oneself, to acknowledge them and let them be expressed. I appreciate it when my partners do. I appreciate their bravery in revealing who they are to me. And I want to show it to them by staying open to their actions, staying open to whatever process hurting me triggers in them, allowing them to explore the dark corners of their psyche, knowing that I am there with them, that I am receiving everything they have to give me and I will not leave them behind in their dark night. We will see the light at the end together. 

I have a history of being hurt by people whom I loved. I have been hurt by them over and over again and I was always coming back. Back then, because I didn’t have a choice. I had nowhere to go. But at the same time, I also didn’t want to leave them. I could see they were hurting as well. I could see how lost they were, unable to behave any different. I accepted that and I kept on loving them despite everything they did to me. Because the possibility of closing off and leaving them felt even more painful than whatever they were doing to me. 

Rope provides me with a contained ritual in which I can relieve those situations from my past. You could see it as unhealthy. You could say that I should learn how to get out of my unhealthy patterns and take better care of myself. But I think that its exactly what I am doing. In ropes, and in kink in general, I meet the most vulnerable, the most hidden parts of myself and I give them a voice so that I can finally see the beauty that hides inside of them. I can finally see the beauty that is in my pain. 

Kinbaku is a space where, instead of turning away from my uncomfortable experiences, I meet them with my attention and curiosity. Where I ‘see’ them and allow them to ‘play out’ without any censorship. So that I can learn how they operate. So that the most hidden aspects of me can finally see the daylight and become integrated into the image I have of myself. So that there is no part of me that I feel ashamed of.  A rope scene is a space where I meet my demons and where they invite the demons of my partners to dance. Through my pain. Through my suffering. Through my challenge, we both find peace with who we are. 

I could be bitter about the fact that it is always me who is hurt but I am not because it makes perfect sense. I’ve spent so much time in my life experiencing pain, investigating it, toying with it and turning it around that I am ideally positioned to be its receiver. Pain is my old friend. 

You could say that I am doomed but I would rather say that I am blessed. I get to explore the parts of human experience that not many people have entered and left sane. I get to be the gate for my partners to places they would never otherwise have reached. 

I am a necessary piece of a puzzle. A rarely visited but wildly beautiful garden. It might be scary to enter at first but I will guide through it the ones who have dared to visit it. Finally, there is meaning in my pain. 

¹ Scarry, Ellain. The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of The World. Oxford UP, 1987.

On submission as my way to taste the forbidden

I have a tendency to be swept off my feet by men. People who have known me for a bit can confirm.

Not by all men, that is.

In general, I tend to be rather intimidating and hard to impress. Sometimes, I can be a girl who emanates the vibe of ‘better don’t come close unless you have something really interesting to say. And I mean: really interesting’. Sometimes, I am a girl who has a bunch of guys around her begging for her attention. Sometimes, men treat me like a princess. I can’t say that I don’t like it. It can be pleasant and flattering. But it doesn’t turn me on.

I was raised in a family of strong women. My mother is a kind of woman who is a feminist and at the same time sees anything feminine as a sign of weakness. I love my mother. She is an amazing person and she has taught me a lot. She also might have been one of the reasons why my sexuality has developed into something so dark and twisted.

This tendency of mine to be swept off my feet by certain men has been in me since I remember. It would not happen often but there were certain kinds of guys (guys whom I found admirable and respectable and who at the same time did not pay much attention to me) around whom I was melting. If I met a guy like that, I would do anything to make him notice me, anything to get a sign of his approval. I’d travel to the other side of the country just for a chance of seeing him for a couple of hours. Usually, I wouldn’t get what I’d hoped for but it wouldn’t keep me from trying.

My mother hated my behaviour around those men. She thought that the way I was acting around them was pitiful. That I should be ashamed of myself for being like that. That I make a joke out of me. She has always told me that it should be men who admire me and not the other way around. That if I behave like that, they will for sure never be mine. Because the path to the heart of a man is being inaccessible. Only then, they will desire me.

There might even be some truth to it in the context of the culture that she was raised in and the, still pervasive today, traditional goals of a woman. There might also be some truth in it if you like when the object of your desire also desires you.

To me, however, it is a slippery slope.

My problem with desire is that I can either be a subject or an object of it but not both at the same time. And if my object makes me their object as well, my subject role gets shaky.

Not that it ever happened to me. I’ve been choosing my objects wisely so far.

I don’t know if it is because, trying to impress my mother, I have suppressed my natural behavior so deeply that now it comes to the surface blown up to unnatural proportions. My hypothesis is: 'Possibly'. But I know that men who are everything to me while I am nothing to them are my ideal kind of men.

I want to crawl at their feet while they don’t even notice.

I want to seek beggingly for a glimpse of their sight while they are busy admiring someone else.

I want to be ecstatic from them merely noticing me.

I want to pray for their touch not believing that I will ever receive it.

I want to be the most miserable, pitiful, despicable kind of girl. The one my mother would shudder with disgust when looking at. I want people to cringe with pity when they see me. I want them to feel sorry for me. I want them to think of me as a loser, unloved, and unlovable. I want them to think that they would never want to switch their places with me and truly mean it.

Because they probably shouldn’t.

Without my highly developed taste for rejection, such experience might prove dangerous for them.

Without my appreciation of hardship, it might not be possible for them to take it.

Without an understanding of the calm beauty of loneliness, the velvety warmth of sadness, and the reassuring composure of disinterest, seeking what I seek might even prove deadly.

For me, however, submission is a means for exploration of exactly those feelings. It is a way to experience a part of me that has never been accepted. It is allowing myself to feel to the fullest the emotions that I have never been allowed to experience.

Not so that I can prove to myself it finishes with a happy ending. Not so that I can show to my mother that she was wrong, that if you truly give yourself to someone what you get in return is their love and devotion.

I don’t think that it is necessarily true.

Rather, submission allows me to experience the rejection that has been so demonized to me, to feel the unreciprocated desire that I have been taught one should never feel. Submission allows me to live through being unloved, unwanted, pitiful, low, and ugly.

So that I can finally, without guilt, taste the forbidden fruit of weakness.

So, apparently I've taught myself how to feel

This text is an affirmation of how much I’ve developed in my ability to feel. It is a reminder to myself that I’ve come a long way and that I wasn’t always that attuned with my emotions. In fact, there had been a time when I was the opposite of that. It is also an illustration of what is possible if you put your mind and heart into something. That there is no such thing as having a fixed personality. That we can always change if we want to. But it doesn’t happen without putting in the effort and practice.

One of my current best friends is my ex-boyfriend. We broke up a long time ago and we are often joking about how much good the breakup did to both of us. It is really great to have someone around who knows me intimately for such a long time and cares about me but at the same time is not too emotionally invested. Often, he can see the processes that I am going through much clearer than I am able to see myself. And make me aware of them.

I was talking with him recently about how much we’ve both changed since we were in a relationship together, and one of the things that he made me realize was how completely disconnected from my emotions I’d been back then. He reminded me how each time when he would ask me how I felt about something my answer would be “I don’t know”. And it wasn’t because I didn’t want to reveal it to him but because I truly had no idea. The moment I was turning my attention inwards was like staring into a street clouded with fog where all you can see is 50 centimetres in front of you. You know that there is something behind that milky wall, but there is no possibility of telling what. 

Looking at myself now, I find it quite unbelievable. I like to think that currently, I have quite an unusual capacity to experience and express my feelings. Usually, even in the midst of the most emotionally challenging situations, I am able to observe what I feel clearly and objectively. I am able to analyse my emotions and separate them from facts. I am able to honestly express even the most uncomfortable feelings. And actually feel them at the same time.

The whole point of my favourite kind of BDSM play nowadays is being an outside observer of my own misery, taking a back seat and watching myself going through emotional pain while at the same time experiencing it. And the reason why I can enjoy it this way is that I can deeply feel even the most uncomfortable and painful emotions without shutting off. I can savour them without getting overwhelmed.
But it didn’t use to be that way. I wasn’t born with an innate capacity to feel even if it might seem like it sometimes. Or rather, I was born with it like all of us are, but I definitely lost it along the way. I did manage to gain it back but it was occupied with hard work, and what I’ve just realized, years of practice. 

What has helped me in making a change was the realization that in order to feel good, I needed to first feel at all. In the past, I’d shut off my feelings because I didn’t want to experience negative emotions. There were just too many of them and it seemed like experiencing all of it would make my life unmanageable. So I decided not to feel. And it was working. I was managing my life well and achieving more and more successes. Or so it seemed.

The point of change came when I had to make a big life decision and I realized that I am completely incapable of recognizing what is the right thing to do. I rationally kind of knew what it was but I didn't feel it. And without feeling it, I wasn't able to take a step. At that point, I understood that I needed someone to help me tap into my emotions because I am not able to do it on my own. So I went into therapy.

It took me 6 months to get even a small glimpse into my own feelings and to make the necessary step. It took me 6 years to become able to observe and express my emotions about a situation at hand in a reasonable time and not when they come banging at my door driven to a complete extreme. I am still not at the point when in difficult circumstances I can experience my feelings real-time and express them in a non-violent and constructive manner but I am working every day towards getting there. 

Learning to recognize and let my feelings in was a difficult undertaking. It took a lot of effort and hard work. It involved psychotherapy, meditation, journaling and other practices. But first and foremost, it required a willingness to look for the answers inside of myself. To face the reality of the turmoil within me and stop turning my face away from it. Before I could even think of changing anything, I had to first hear the thoughts and see the images that I was trying to push away. The ones that made me so afraid of feeling. 

Right now I tremendously enjoy my emotions. They are the soul of my life. They add colour and depth to it. They provide me with excitement and pleasure. They make me feel alive. 

Even more so, it seems that the things that I used to run away from, now became my biggest fetishes. The feelings of rejection, helplessness and fear that I used to shut off are now what I desire. Maybe it’s because being able to look them in the eye and allow them to rule me on my own terms is what makes me feel stronger. Maybe seeing them as simply manifestations of life takes away their power, leaving just the intensity. Maybe facing something that I used to be so terrified of gives me the feeling of thrill, and thrill is sexy. I am not sure, but I know that without consciously leaning into my emotions I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the kind of play that I do now. 

I see the kind of relationship that I have with myself as the deepest form of intimacy one can ever achieve. There is no other person in the world with whom you can get as close as you can get with yourself. And there is no way that you can build intimacy with other people if you do not have an intimate relationship with yourself. Being able to communicate and share my feelings with other people is a quality that I value enormously. It brings me closer to people. It deepens my trust and my connection with them. It makes me feel seen and understood. But without acknowledging what is inside of me, I would never be able to see and hear what is inside of them. 

Reconnecting with my feelings might just be the biggest work that I’ve done on myself so far. And being where I am now is both great and terrifying at the same time. 

The great thing is that it allows me to have all these amazing experiences that I could never have dreamed of having before. It gives depth and intensity to anything that I am going through and it allows me to learn from every single life experience because I can truly see things for what they are without wanting to turn away from them. 

It can be terrifying, though, because once you start feeling deeply, you feel the good as much as you feel the bad. And once you start seeing things truly, there is no way to unsee them. Once you know what it means to stay connected to yourself, it becomes difficult to slip into the slumber of not feeling because when you start doing that it is as obvious as if you would start cutting off your own leg. And sometimes there are things happening in my life when I wish I could not feel.

But then I remind myself how much I would have to give up in order to do that. All the wisdom that pain has brought me. All the joy that being in the moment has given me. And then I let go and allow myself to feel what I didn’t want to feel. And I am grateful for having taught myself how to do that. 

Savouring jealousy

It's such a complex feeling and such a delicious one to unpack. Jealousy is something that I have been intrigued by from the moment that I realized that it is possible to incorporate it into play. It plays on human most basic fears of loneliness, abandonment and not being enough. And that offers tremendous possibilities for emotional suffering.

I am not a jealous type of person in general. I am usually rather secure in most of my relationships and I am not easily fearful about losing a partner. Also because I think that it is something out of my control either way so I rather try to focus on what they are giving me instead of thinking how I might lose it. There is one type of situation that does ignite jealousy in me very strongly, though. And that is when it is mixed with envy.

Because of my high level of ambition and a constant hunger for more, I tend to want a lot of things and there have always been people around me who had more of something that I wanted than me. Sometimes it's not so much about them having more, but simply about having something that I don’t have, not at all or not at that moment. Those are the people who I am envious of. I can even be envious of my Dominant for being dominant even though I don't have a drop of dominance in me. It's not about wanting it for myself as a person who I am right now but about not being able to have it. Ever. And at the same time finding it something admirable or desirable. 

And because my envy is so often about the absolutes, things that I can't change, mixed with jealousy it can be formidable to play with. Especially, because being jealous ignites my deepest anxieties. And what can cause one more pain than having their anxieties dragged out in the open and prodded?

I learned recently to savour my jealousy. It usually appears in relation to other partners of my partners when they are female and fundamentally different from me. Not just any different, but they need to be a kind of woman that I am uselessly attracted to because of her alluring femininity. That kind of woman that is very beautiful but in a cold and distant way, aware of her beauty and knowing how to use it as a powerful tool to get what she wants. In general, she usually gets what she wants in her life without much struggle. Often because of an aura of slight helplessness that surrounds her, which makes you feel like she needs you in some way, but at the same time, constantly keeping you at a distance, making you want to provide for her, making you feel like you might have something that she needs and if you give it to her, she might, for a moment, become yours. 

This is the type of woman that I am very envious of. Of course, the above image is a huge generalization and a big part of it is my own imagination about these women and not the reality. It doesn’t matter, though. What matters is how they make me feel.

They come in many different flavours but there is one thing that unites them, my reaction to them. It's my reaction that tells me that she, as well, belongs to their breed. It's my inability to turn my eyes from her, the moment she appeared in my sight. My strong desire to talk to her and make her laugh, to entertain her. I want her to be mine, even though I know that it's impossible and, also, I wouldn't know what to do with her once she is. Because I want to have her, but at the same time all I really want is for someone else to have me. 

And if this is the way she makes me feel, I can only imagine how my partner feels about her. How is it even possible that they still want to have anything to do with me if they can have her? She is so superior to me that there is no point of even trying to compare myself to her. 

But I do. I find a perverse pleasure in observing her (or them together) and finding all the ways in which she is better. All the ways in which I don't measure up. All the desirable ways in which they treat her and they don't treat me. It's very cruel to do it to myself, but it's my personal gift, self-inflicted suffering. 

When I think about it, I feel ashamed of doing it. I feel like I shouldn't feed on my jealousy like that. I shouldn't torture myself using those two people who are not even aware of what I am doing. It's a very twisted kind of voyeurism and mental masturbation. But it's so delightfully painful that it's hard to stop. 

I would like to believe that I am able to control it. That I am not going to make any permanent damage to my relationships because of that. That if I keep it to myself, nobody will get hurt. I don't know if it's true. What I do know is that I love observing myself around those women and can't really help it. I love how small and pathetic they make me feel. How their presence makes me retreat and accept that my partner will probably not want to touch me ever again. And understand it. I love how low and hopeless it makes me. How desperate and undeserving. How acutely aware of all the things that I will never be able to provide to them and she is. How resignation and acceptance of the inevitability of being rejected creeps up on me when I see them together. 

Of course, I know, rationally speaking, that it doesn't work like that. I know that people are different and they like each other for different reasons and there is no notion of someone being objectively better than me. I also know that I have many qualities that people might find attractive. That it's not so black and white. That if they say that they like and value me then I should trust they do. And usually, I do. Just not at that moment. Because at that moment I'm busy drowning myself in self-deprecation, humiliation and loneliness. 

At that moment, I know only one thing that I have that she doesn't that might be the reason why my partners haven’t abandoned me yet. I know that she will never go as low as I do for them. She will never lose her dignity for them, as I do so easily. They will never feel as justified in their cruelty towards her as they are in their cruelty towards me. They will never turn her into something that is as far from a human as I can be sometimes. She won't entertain them with her misery and pitifulness. 

I know that that is the reason why they keep me with them. So that they can be at their worst with me and at their best with her. They need to degrade me so that they can cherish her. And knowing that only makes me wish to be someone else even more. Someone beautiful and respected. Someone feared and admired. Someone valued and taken into account and not just used. 

I will never be that person, though, because, in reality, it's not who I want to be. I could be her only if I wasn't myself. But I want misery and suffering too much. I long to feel degraded. I long to feel rejected. I long to be hurt. And if my partner is not there to provide it to me, if they are busy with someone who actually is worthy of their attention, then I'm always there for myself. I’m always there to rub some salt into my wounds and then sit back and enjoy the pain, sipping slowly from the bitter-sweet cup that they passed on to me.

The unvoiced truth of your touch

Disclaimer: this is a highly personal post in which I talk about how I want to be treated. By no means, it is an opinion on how a Dominant should treat a submissive. Nor is it a critique of service tops in general. It is simply an account of my feelings in certain situations.

It’s unbelievable how much I can read from the way I am being touched by someone. How many unspoken desires and motifs can spring from under the tips of their fingers. How subtle but at the same clear those unuttered truths are.

Your touch can tell me everything about your desire for me. No matter how rough or reckless your gestures seem to be, it is very easy to read between them and see how much you actually want me. How your touch often might seem objectifying, but what it really screams is “I want you. I am dying to have you.” 

There are people who can beat you up in pulp and each of their powerful strikes reads like an insecure question: “Do you like it?” And there are people who can stroke your cheek gently and what you read them saying is “You’re mine and I will do whatever the fuck I want with you. And it won't be pleasant.”

The second type is what I fall for.

So don't think that you can fool me with your violent pose. I can see how you are trying to read if your actions are pleasurable to me if this is the way I want to be treated. It is clear that you are looking for the signs of enjoyment in me, that you are drinking greedily from the cup of my contentment. 

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing bad in wanting to please your partner. I don’t condemn you for wanting to give me the pleasure that I expressed my desire for. Your tender violence could be exactly what I need. By fulfilling my desire to be dominated, you could be giving me precisely what I want. 

And maybe sometimes you even do... But what I am certain about, is that by treating me this way, you will never make me yours. The moment I feel that you want me, I know that you’ve lost me. You handed the power over to me, no matter how much we want to pretend otherwise.

Being desired means holding the reins. If someone wants you, they will do anything to get you. They will do all the things that they know you want them to do to you. They will violate and hurt you. They will make you crawl on your knees and they will humiliate you. They will beat you up and make you beg to stop. But if underlying all this is their desire to please you, it becomes meaningless. An empty theatre of Dominance and submission. 

If this is the case, I can feel that all the things that are done to me happen only because I want it. One word from me and it would all stop and my Dominant would be at my feet. I stop being violated and start being served, in a twisted kind of way. And the thought of being served by my Dominant makes me cringe. Being served kills the sacrifice.

I love making sacrifices for the people I admire. I love to feel that I am serving them. I love to feel like I am giving up something for their pleasure. Sacrifice is one of my biggest fetishes. And what is the point of a sacrifice if it is not needed? 

When I feel like you are mine without any effort on my side, just because of the sheer fact of my existence, then I lose my appetite entirely. And I stop wanting to give you what you desire. 

Myself.

Even more so, I begin to wish to punish you for your weakness of falling for my whims. I start to torture you using your neediness. The door closes. By trying to win me over, you lose me irreversibly. 

I know that it is kind of cruel on my side. I know that I can be ruthless in my desire to be used and violated. I demand of my partners to truly disregard my needs. I demand of them to take pleasure in my real misery. I don’t want us to act like I am their property, I want to be their property. With everything that comes with it. 

It is a great responsibility because what is and isn’t too much for me becomes their decision. They need to decide how far we can go, without endangering my physical and emotional safety to an undesired level. I require them to know something impossible to know, that only I could know. I require them to know and state my limits. 

I would like to believe that what I desire is not a complete madness. That there are limits to the sacrifices that I will make. That I will see and voice those limits when they truly are unbreachable. 

I will never know until I get there, though. 

What I do know, is that being wanted makes me cold and cruel. Your avid and passionate touch turns me into stone. Your need to please me makes me indifferent and withdrawn.

I know that it's unfair and probably unhealthy. Especially, because I do not want my partners to truly not care about me. My desire is not to be a victim of abuse. But what I do want, is for your touch to show not even the slightest sign of worship. I want you to grab and grope me as your trophy and not as a precious gift. I want you to use me for your pleasure and disregard mine. I want you to demand sacrifices of me and make no concessions for my sake.

Only then, will I yield under your touch. Only then, will I relax into submission. And only then, will I feel truly recognised and appreciated for who I am. 

An object. A possession. A toy.

I just think that I should be used

Some people might call me a slut, but I don't think that I am one. As far as I understand, being a slut is about enjoying sex and having as much of it as possible because you have pleasure from it. I don't care about my pleasure. I just think that I should be used. Other people should have pleasure from my body. That's their right.

My threshold for physical closeness is very low. As soon as I kind of like you, I will probably let you fuck me. If you realise that it is a possibility and how easy it is to get, I won't say no, because I'll think that you deserve it, just because you’ve requested it. Whether I want it is out of the question.

I think that it comes from the notion that I acquired as a teenager, that I need to repay people for physical closeness. And that payment should come in their ability to access my body. My need for physical touch and closeness is huge. Not necessarily sexual, just hugging, being caressed, kissed. Just feeling someone close to me. Being intimate.

In my youth, I thought that I can't just get it from someone without giving something in return. Somehow, I didn't feel like being close to me might be of any value to other people. So I needed to give them something more of myself to deserve the closeness. And sex was an easy and obvious currency.

So I learned to treat my body as an object and to use it to get an illusion of being close to someone. An illusion, not because they didn't want to be close to me, but because I couldn't really be close to them. Usually, because they weren't the people who I truly wanted to be close with. And those with whom I did, I was too terrified of rejection to ask.

I became a master of my way of seducing people by giving them all my attention. If I decided that I want someone to like me, I would do anything to please them. I still do it and it's not necessarily a bad thing. There is no pretending in there, they do really have all my attention at that time. The problem is that it's not sustainable and when it ends, it hurts. You can't be so focused on the other person 24/7 and not lose them and/or yourself. You should never forget about yourself in your quest to please.

Or shouldn't you? Getting to know more and more about BDSM and especially about D/s, I begin to realise that all these imprints that I have and that I used to see as negative, and which are negative in a normal world with ‘normal’ norms, are perfect for creating a successful D/s dynamic. With the right partner, my inability to be something else than a sexual object, my need to please and my hyper-focused attention on the other, are assets. As long as we both know what we are exploring and what we're both giving up and we agree to it, there is nothing negative about it.

Because can’t my unwillingness to explore my own sexual needs, and the desire to be a sexual object, be a need on its own? Why is it considered unhealthy to get pleasure not from my own physical pleasure, but from pleasing the other? Why isn’t it ok to suppress my own personal expression as a price of moulding myself to the image that someone else might have designed for me?

In today's western society all the above are definitely not valued and understood. We strive to develop the individual self, to express ourselves fully and to be emotionally independent of other people as much as possible. This kind of attitude is often portrayed as an ideal that we should all be striving for. But what if my individual expression is a lack thereof? What if I prefer to please other people than to please myself? What if I prefer to focus on other people than to focus on myself?

And don’t get me wrong, I am not an altruistic mother Teresa. I do have a lot of individual self-expression in my daily life. I do have goals, strong opinions about things and I like some people and strongly dislike others. But in sex, I just want to be used. I just want my partners to enjoy me and I want to please them as much as I can. I want to be their perfect toy. My only need is for them not to care about my needs.

It seems great at first sight, but actually it is a lot to ask. It is easy to get from someone who truly doesn’t care about you, but when they start to like you (or even worse, love you), they usually start to care about what you want. And that becomes very problematic for me.

Before I discovered kink, I had a lot of random sex with people who didn't care about me, because it was very easy to be objectified by them. But when I would start to be intimate with someone, having sex with them would become more and more difficult. They would begin to ask me too many questions about what I want. It was becoming too much about me. And when I started to think about it, I wasn't even sure if I want sex at all. I begin to wonder what should I want. What would they want me to want? Why don't I have needs on my own? What's wrong with me?

There is definitely something wrong with me (maybe 'wrong' is not the right world, out of the ordinary is better), but I don't necessarily want to change it. I found a place where the weird notions in my head can be a source of pleasure without guilt. I finally understand and accept that I enjoy the feeling that being used gives me, proxying my own pleasure using the pleasure of the other, the attention that I am getting from my user and how natural they become with me when they realise that they can just do whatever they want with me and they don't need to care about my needs. My whole life I've been working towards becoming a perfect toy (and I still am) without even realising it, and finally, I am starting to see value in my predisposition instead of considering myself a freak.

Because I just think that I should be used. Is that too much to ask for?

Mindsets in which I love to receive pain

I think that I am a weird masochist. If I can be called one at all (to hell with the labels anyway).

I haven’t always been like that. In general, what I like a function of what my partners enjoy. Recently, however, I began to realize that I do also have my own taste for certain things.

My first kinky experience was quite painful and violent and the fact that I enjoyed it left me deeply disturbed and confused (a ‘decent’ girl should not enjoy being spanked and fucked until her ass turns completely blue and she can’t sit for a week). Then, my first dominant boyfriend was all about humiliation and degradation and we didn’t explore physical pain much. I didn’t feel the need to, either. Enough was going on already. After that, I entered the kink scene and that was the first time when someone pointed out to me that I am masochistic. And it was true, I enjoyed physical pain enormously at that point in time. It was a way of easy release and achieving the intensity that I craved for without investing much emotionally.

That fountain dried up for me though when I started discovering how much pleasure emotional suffering gives me. When I realized the depth, complexity, intensity and ease with which the emotional pain can be given to me by some people, my interest in physical pain deteriorated significantly. I even felt like I am not masochistic anymore. A bruised butt or other parts of my body lost their appeal to me. A bruised soul was what I was looking for.

Recently, I began to appreciate physical pain again, only not in the way that I used to. I am not so much interested in the pure sensual experience of pain anymore, but what its combination with emotional suffering can bring. The circumstances that I enjoy when being hurt are the ones that take away any possible physical pleasure that I could be experiencing from it. They take away the context of pain being a different tool of giving pleasure to a masochist and interchange it with actually being physically and mentally hurt.

Being an object

Receiving pain when you are objectified has a special flavour to it because you can be sure that it is not about you. There are coldness and carelessness to it. You're hurting, but it's not relevant. You could as well not be. Your pain doesn't matter. You're just a toy and you're used for someone's amusement, but your pain is not part of the amusement. It is just your body that is being used for someone else's purposes as if you were a puppet. And if it hurts then too bad for you. Do puppets even feel anyways?

Somehow I love this state because it makes me let go of my own experiences. Let go of myself. Yes, I am being hurt and yes I am in pain, but there is no way to prevent it, as the person who is hurting me doesn't even seem to see what I am experiencing. So better stop fighting against it and just accept it.

I love the mental challenge that accepting it requires of me. Since I don't have the usual supporting power of doing it for my partner to help me go through it, I really have to use all my resources to carry on. Being able to cope with pain like that is a very powerful experience.

A punishment

Punishment is another situation in which pain is not pleasurable to me. The same strokes of the whip can feel very different when they're purely sadistic entertainment and when they are a source of punishment.
When I'm being punished, my head automatically tries to help the person who is punishing me by putting me in a mindset of atonement, making everything more painful and reminding me with every stroke that what I am currently experiencing is an expression of someone's disappointment. And being a disappointment is one of the worst crimes in my eyes.

Since I always want to please, being punished is a painful experience in itself for me. Adding pain to it only intensifies it. That's because at that moment all I dream of is being forgiven and embraced and told that everything is fine and they're not going to leave me behind because of what I did. Receiving pain, when you're waiting to be told that everything is going to be ok, can be quite devastating.

Being not cared about

Pain can also be an expression of someone not caring about me. And I love to feel not being cared about. There are little things hurt more than that.

Being objectified can also be a sign of not caring, but that's not what I'm talking about here. Here, I want my partners to see and recognize what I feel, but not care about it. For example, when they beat me way harder than I might find enjoyable, just because they feel like it, knowing that they are causing me a lot of pain and showing me that their entertainment is more important than my suffering. Again, it's a sign that what they're doing to me is not about me, which is exactly what I want.

Outside of kink the fact that someone gives another pain is often a sign of them not caring about the other person unless it is a necessary evil for your own good. Within the realm of kink, this reasoning is twisted as giving pain to a masochist can actually be a sign of love, of recognizing and catering to someone's needs. But since for me, the last thing that I want from my partners is for my needs to be recognized and catered for (at least in play), I often bring myself to the 'real world' mindset, where I don't want to experience pain and the fact that they are still giving it to me is a sign of not caring, of doing what they want without considering how I feel about it. At least, I want to believe that this is the case.

Being a recipient of anger

Being hurt by someone who appears to be angry is yet another flavour that I love. It makes one feel so panicky and abused. There is some carelessness there, but it's mixed with fear and violence. They might be careless, but not because they don't care whether they hurt you or how you feel. Here they actually actively want to hurt you. Their carelessness comes from a deliberate loss of control (or at least it looks like it).

I love how terrified it makes me feel to think that not only am I out of control but my torturer as well. It gives me a feeling of being in the power of an uncontrolled natural force, unstoppable and deadly. It awakens lots of primal fears and makes me freeze with terror.

An additional aspect is added to it if the person who is angry and violent with me is someone who I care about. Someone who I wish would be kind and loving but instead is using me as their punching bag. It makes me feel lost, confused, and hurt, and wishing it all to stop. It gives me a feeling of betrayal because I thought that I knew them but I find out that they are not who I thought they were (especially when it's something unexpected and played really well).

Humiliation

Physical pain can also be a great tool for humiliation. In general, if you are equal to someone, they will not cross the boundary of physically hurting you (in normal circumstances I mean, not in kink). If someone feels entitled to hurt you and you let them do that, it might be a sign of lowering your status. Especially if it is done in a humiliating way.

To me for example, being spanked with a bare hand or beaten with a belt is somewhat humiliating, as it makes me feel like an insubordinate child. In such a case, the humiliation is often bigger than the pain. Especially if other people are watching it. Having my nipples twisted is also often an act of humiliation to me. It makes me feel so vulnerable and exposed. Another obvious painful form of humiliation is face slapping.

I love the combination of pain and humiliation because the pain somewhat intensifies the humiliation (and to me usually is absorbed by it). It always makes me think about the fact that I am so subdued to the person doing it that I'll allow them to do anything to me. I'll go as low as they want me to. Pain makes me realize that and at the same time makes me feel more helpless in it.

Denial of loving touch

This is a circumstance that I love to go to in my head. Even a slight sign of denial (conscious one and not because of carelessness) of touch or softness makes my mind tremble from a feeling of lack. I start to desperately want what I can't get. Longing for the thing that they're denying me more and more, showing them how much I want it. And giving them more opportunities to deny it even more painfully.

And when someone makes you hungry for their kindness and care and love and then feed you with pain… It hurts. On so many levels. When you long for their touch and the only touch you get is mixed with pain. It makes you so confused and helpless and trapped. You become their prisoner. You begin to long for the pain that they are giving you because it's the only way that you can be close to them. And despite the hurt, you want to be close to them. It is so tragically romantic that I can't get enough of it.

Bein in someone else’s control

Finally, I love when someone is using pain to show me how much I am under their control. Not as a tool of gaining control (in general when I play with people I am under their control already), but rather of executing it. Of showing me how much they can do to me and that I am not going to stop them.

I am not a fighting kind of person, you don't need to use force to overpower me. If I'm there playing with you, I'm already yours. The fact that even though that is the case, you will still hurt me just because you can, makes me truly feel the power that you have over me. It makes me realize that you know exactly how much I have given up and that you are going to use it.

It's both exciting and terrifying. On the one hand, you're fulfilling my desires. Being entirely under the control of someone else is one of the states that I long for. On the other hand though, knowing how much I'm letting my guard down and seeing someone who might actually use it to the limit is scary. Can I really take as much as I think I can?

Being hurt by someone who has complete power over me is so thrilling, again, because the pain that they are giving me is not about me. They are hurting me because that's the experience that they want to give me. And I know that because it's for them, I will suck it up and go way further than I find pleasurable. I won't say stop when it gets hard to take. I will let them bring me just on the brink of breaking. And that's the place where I love to be.

So I guess that what I actually want is to be hurt in a way that my partners want to hurt me and not on my terms. I don't want them to use the pain for my pleasure. I want them to really use it to hurt me. I can also recognize how much physical pain can enhance and alter emotional suffering. How it can add to the intensity and bring me to a state of terror or nervous breakdown that is hard to achieve otherwise.

So please, do hurt me. Use the pain against me. Just don't make me feel for a moment that what you are doing is about me.

On the pleasure of feeling shame

Disclaimer: I'm writing from a position of a woman because that's the experience that I have. Of course, shame is not only a female experience and I'm not trying to say that is, but that's my personal angle of looking at it.

Shame is a problematic emotion. In principle, it is a negative and not desirable one, of course. Especially for women, shame about our sexuality is deeply ingrained in us culturally, partly as a means of control. If you can control someone's sexuality, you can very easily gain control over other aspects of their lives, as you thwart their self-expression and don't allow them to look for the answers by themselves (yes, I do kind of say that everything, in the end, is about sex).

Since currently, we are in the age of women gaining back the power, being shameless sexually is often seen as a form of a fight against the patriarchy. And in a way it is. By not conforming to social norms, not feeling shame when society tells you to, you show your independence and freedom to live according to your own rules.

But feeling shame doesn't always have to be something negative. Especially in kink. As with many other negative emotions that people normally don't want to experience, kink gives us tools and context to experiment with them without (theoretically) the normal repercussions that would come with it. Context of kink gives you a controlled environment in which you can explore the places to which you normally wouldn't want to go. And that's exactly what I find so appealing about it.

The way I often feel about shame is that it kind of alleviates guilt in me. It allows me to do things that I normally wouldn't do because I would feel that they are not decent (even though I know that deep inside I would enjoy them). But when I'm doing them while feeling ashamed, I feel like part of the blame is gone, because (at least) I am feeling ashamed. Especially when I am ashamed of something that I was 'forced' to do (while secretly enjoying it), like being exposed in rope, for example. I can enjoy the pleasure of being seen and (maybe even) desired, without taking the responsibility for being so openly sexual, keeping a little bit of decency.

Of course, as an independent emancipated young woman of the XXIst century, I could say that I should get rid of these old school ideas of sexuality being something shameful. That I should own my needs and desires and stop hiding away behind a wall of shame. But should I really?

If the (mostly Slavic) culture that I grew up in equipped me with all these notions about what is decent and what not for a woman, allowing me to experience amazing states of misery, why not use it to my advantage? Maybe it is old school to be an innocent damsel in distress when it comes to sex, but how romantic! And have I mentioned that romance is what I live for? So why should I consciously deprive myself of the experiences that I desire in the name of proving something to someone?

I guess that what I am trying to say is that we shouldn't make shame a shameful feeling. Which I feel like it kind of is recently, especially for women in the western European culture (I can't say about other cultures as I haven't been exposed to them long enough). I think that consciously choosing to experience shame, even though it is not something admired in our society is a sign of bravery and not of conforming to stereotypes.

And there is a beauty in shame. In this confusion about breaking the rules, which feels both enjoyable and wrong at the same time. In eating the forbidden fruit. In uncovering something that should stay covered. And also in submitting to the norms of the crowd and feeling the power of the group pressure over you, crushing you under the feeling of inappropriateness. There is a pleasure to be found in allowing yourself to stop fighting against other people trying to dictate your choices and for once let their views take control, while at the same time doing something against what they deem appropriate. It's this perverse feeling of being a 'fallen woman' who lost her status but desperately wants it back.

Rules and norms give one structures and scenarios opening endless possibilities for play. Especially the old school notions are a great tool for that because these archetypes are so deeply ingrained in us that it is very easy to tap into them. Being ashamed of one’s desires, group shaming, shame about being exposed and about one's actions are all situations that we've been surrounded by throughout our lives, even if haven't actively participated in them. I love to play with those notions and use them to my advantage. To let myself live the stories of women who were here before me. To experience their pain and their pleasures.

I wouldn't want to let it go in order to prove how independent and developed I am as a woman. And I don't think that I should have to do that. Sex and play is not a political statement. It's a way of connecting to myself and to my partners in a very pure form. It's a means for exploration of my body and mind. Exploring traditional notions is a very interesting thing to do, even if only as a way of facing them truly and letting them go. Playing with them gives one power over them. It allows one to see them for what they are, states of mind that one gets in and out of, initially unconsciously, but as one grows more aware of them, more and more consciously.

I guess that if I really wanted to, I could stop being so easily ashamed. Only that I don't. Instead, I prefer to take what my upbringing gave me and twist it to the limits. Put my shame in a pressure cooker and see what comes out of it. It is such a fascinating feeling and it brings so much joy to me and my partners. Let's enjoy it while we can. But on our terms.

What I find so alluring in being hypnotized

Recently, I have experienced hypnosis in completely different circumstances from what I am used to, and the ease in which I followed and how much I enjoyed it, made me realise that I am much more into it than I anticipated. I knew that I loved it being used as a tool for asserting more control over me, but this experience made me understand better what I love about hypnosis in particular and that it might be much more my kink than I previously thought.

The feeling of complete letting go

One of the things that are amazing about being in a hypnotic trance is how much it allows you to let go of all the noise that is in your head and around you and just follow the voice of your partner. Even though you are under the control of the hypnotist, you are actually feeling unbelievably free. All your worries are gone, everything disappears, you become calm and centred. At the same time, you are extremely aware of what is happening to you, as soon as it is brought to your attention. Your attention span narrows, which really frees your mind from all the chatter, which is usually happening inside you. It is so relaxing to just let it go and follow the soothing voice of the person who is guiding you. You feel safe and taken care of.

Total control of the other person over you

I love the fact that it allows me not only to give someone my body to play with but also my mind. It makes me feel like I have barely any control left. In a normal D/s scenario, you do things that your Dominant wants you to do because you want to obey his orders. But it is still happening out of your own free will. Here, you do them, because that is what he tells your mind to do. Of course, you still have the control over whether you want to let them hypnotize you (depending on the dynamic), but past that point, you are all theirs.

It is scary, but at the same time really exciting to have someone have so much power over you. To give them your mind to toy with. For them to be able to tap into your unconscious and control you from that point makes you feel like a real human toy. And it is amazing how much possibilities for entertainment I am able to provide them with this way.

Being able to do and experience impossible things

Thanks to hypnosis I was able to experience things that I did not know were possible. And that were not available to me in normal circumstances. Like experiencing a full body orgasm just from hearing someone counting, or losing the sense of touch or the ability to speak. It can literally turn you into an object without will and consciousness, giving your partner the possibility of using you without your participation in it.

It is unbelievable how much control over your sensation one can tap into using hypnosis. How much they can suggest to your unconscious. How much they can increase or decrease the intensity of your experiences by suggesting certain things.

I love exploring new, uncharted territories and discovering previously unknown bodily experiences and I don’t think that there are many things giving more possibilities in that realm than hypnosis.

The loss of will

As far as I experienced, it is true that I can’t be made to do things that I really don’t want to do. But that limit is much further than you think it is. You will do things against your conscious will, but not against your deeply rooted instincts and principles.

And it is interesting how much hypnosis can reveal about your real desires. For example, I hate to look silly or be made stupid in general. If I could, I wouldn’t do things that make me look this way. On the other hand, I love to be forced into humiliation, which making someone look silly is a great tool for. That is why I will let someone make me do stupid things using hypnosis, even though consciously I really don't want to do them.

Still, the things that make me look silly are not the easiest ones to plant in my head, as there is some resistance in me to follow those suggestions. Anything sexual or sexually objectifying on the other hand is as easy as it can get, which reveals what I am really into, even if I wouldn’t want someone to know about it.

So in a way, when in hypnosis you will lose your will because you will follow what your partner tells you, even though your consciousness says that it is not what you want. Again, as I've already said, hypnosis can be a tool of an immense control, which I personally love about it.

The opening-up

Letting someone peek into your head and mess with it is a deeply intimate thing to do. It requires trust and vulnerability and openness. They might discover (or almost surely will) things that you would rather keep secret. You have to either trust them that they won't go there or trust that if they do, they won't use it against you.

For me when I let someone hypnotize me, I am putting all my guards down. Also, because of how open and vulnerable I am in general and because of my tendency to hand myself over very easily to people who want to accept it. I don't think that this level of vulnerability has to always be there during a hypnotic play, but it is always there in my case. It's frightening but also beautiful to be so open, to let someone dive so deeply into your head. And it's one of the reasons why I enjoy hypnosis so much. Because it allows for that openness to happen.

I was quite amazed by how easy I followed into a trance state with someone whom I barely knew. How easy it was to let go and just let him guide me into the experience that he wanted to give me. How seamlessly it happened. True, I trusted him, but should I do it so easily? Part of why I did it was because I so much wanted the experience again. Before it happened I didn’t even realize how much I crave to be in this state. I was playing with fire, as always, and it created magic again. I know that I might burn myself at some point, but how worth the experience of absolute loss of control is of those burns.

Sometimes I wonder where the borders of my submission are?

“Tonight I want you to kneel next to my bed the entire night, while I am sleeping. You will be suffering in silence for me. Without my attention. Without recognition. Hurting and wearing yourself off, while I am getting my rest, because I told you to do so.”

You didn’t make me do it, but the look into my eyes told you that I would. And it is true, I would.

Sometimes I wonder what are the things that I wouldn’t do for you? So far, it seems like I would do anything that is physically possible in order to please you. I find it weirdly exciting and empowering. It is strange how my attitude towards submission is changing. Not long ago I would see it as a weakness. Being so subdued, so obedient. Right now I see it as a sign of power.

It makes me feel powerful because I know that I do these things because I want to. You have total control over me because I gave it to you. And I gave it to you not because I want someone to take this burden of being in control of me. I am perfectly fine with being in control of myself and my own life. In fact, I love the feeling of being in control of my faith. Of living my life the way I want it to be, of achieving my own goals, of thinking where I want to go next and then going there.

Recently, I have been getting to know and appreciate myself more and more. I can recognize much better my own thoughts and emotions. I can see better where my worries are justified and where are they being misplaced. But most importantly, I can see the value in who I am and not just in who I might become if I put enough work in improving myself. I feel lately like I am finally discovering myself. Discovering all the depth and beauty that has been inside me all this time and that others had seen long time ago, while for me it was hidden behind a thick fog of self-criticism and comparison with others. The fog is finally diminishing.

And with all that, I can see how much I am giving up when I hand it over to you to play with. I can see how brave I am to let go so much when I have a choice not to.

The choice that I am talking about is not a choice that I would be making every time we play and you ask something difficult of me. It is not a choice whether to go with it or not, whether to safeword or not. I am past that. It is a choice that I made at some point, I am not sure when. The choice to give all the control over myself to you, to let you decide what is and isn’t too much, to let you peek into my soul deeper than anyone else.

And looking at the fact that I’ve made that decision and that I stand by it, that I let it develop despite the vulnerability that it triggers and despite the enormous hurt that I know it might cause if it ends, makes me proud and in awe with myself.

In line with the popular belief, I used to see the traits of being in control and of dominance and signs of power, while letting go and submission as a weakness. I used to be ashamed when other people would see me being submissive towards someone.

It took some time, but I don’t anymore.

I don’t, because how much strength does it take to go against the current and show it to the world that you let yourself be open and vulnerable towards someone? To not be ashamed to show that someone else has so much control over you while being independent and in control are one of the most desirable and admirable traits in our society? To me, it takes a lot.

It takes a lot because I am a proud and ambitious person. I always want to be the best. I want attention and I want other people to admire me. I want them to see me as strong and smart and interesting. And being submissive does not fulfil any of these needs for me. Being openly submissive to someone is like the opposite of what I thought I always wanted to be.

Not anymore though. Not anymore because I stopped trying to be someone that I am not. And it is not to say that I am not dominant or not in control. I often am. But I don’t have to be any more in order to feel good about myself. I don’t have to prove to anyone that I am this amazing person that I want them to think I am. I am an amazing person. Everyone is an amazing person. And the most rewarding thing that you can do with your life is to keep discovering all the ways in which you are.

Being so brave to let someone else rule my life so much, to be so open and vulnerable towards them, to give up all of my own needs and desires for them, to let them do the most humiliating and degrading things to me and keep coming back, to be willing to explore the darkest corners of my soul and the edges of my sanity are some of the amazing things that I can do.

I don’t know where the borders of my submission are, but it is not because I don’t have an awareness of how much I am willing to give, but because I know that I can give really a lot. And finally, I am truly proud of it.

I have a thing for rejection

The moments when he points my head away from him, denying me his sight, when he reaches out to touch my face but in the last moment he slaps me instead. The moments when he pushes my body away with his foot like it's something disgusting that doesn't deserve to be touched with hands...

... are the moments that I am waiting for.

I so long to be rejected... In fact, almost everything I do in play is asking “Please, push me away.” I make myself so vulnerable, so eager, so subjugated, so needy that it is almost inevitable that I will be rejected. Who would want a despicable half-human like that? Who would give such a creature what it wants, when it clearly has no power to claim it? Why should one be kind to it, when one can be mean with no repercussions? I try to make it as easy as possible for others to stop seeing me as a human, in hope that it will make their threshold for cruelty lower.

I have just written, “Why should I give it what it wants?” meaning, "Why should I give it a kind touch?" while a minute earlier I mentioned that what I actually want is rejection. Confusing, huh? Am I playing my dominants? Am I trying to trick them into thinking that I want kindness, while what I really want is to be rejected? Am I topping from the bottom? Am I?!

On some level I do, I think. But it is not deliberate and not fully conscious. In the moment of play, I experience a personality split of sorts. There is a soft part of me that really only wants to be touched gently and simply loved. This needy part is not staged. I really feel that way at the moment it takes over.

There is another part of me, though. This one lets the vulnerable one appear on the surface during play while it's hiding beneath. This is the part of me that longs for rejection. This is me that feeds on the emotional pain of the needy one. This is the cruel me. And in order for the cruel one to be satisfied, the needy one needs to be truly hurt. And it is truly hurt when it’s being rejected.

Because kindness and a soft touch really are all that the needy one wants. It wants the pain to be over, it wants to feel loved. There is no deceit in the needy one. It is like a child. Any emotion that it feels is immediately expressed. It is so vulnerable that the only thing that it can do is to express its needs and hope that the person that it expresses it towards will meet them.

Of course, this is not what the cruel one hopes for. And it is the cruel one who screens the partners that the needy one is going to interact with. She chooses for the ones that she hopes are as cruel as she is. She also interacts with them before the scene, hinting at all the terrible things that she would like to be done to her. And then she hides in the corner to watch.

Recently, I’ve seen someone at a party engaging in a humiliating act, and he was smiling and visibly enjoying it. I don’t think that I ever look like that when I am being humiliated. And it is because the conscious side of me that is experiencing it, is not taking any pleasure in it happening. It will do what you tell it to because it needs you. And it loves you. You are its only hope for receiving what it needs, for feeling loved and nourished. So it will go as low as it gets to get it. Because there is no other way. Because it is too weak to get it by itself. It needs it to be granted to her.

So when you reject me and humiliate me, it is not that I pretend that I don’t want it, while I secretly do. The part that is being rejected really doesn’t want it. It truly is suffering and its heart is truly being broken. There is no pleasure experienced by it.

Who is taking pleasure is the cruel one and it is a kind of ex-post pleasure. During the scene she is just watching and only after that she devours all the pain and suffering that the needy one experienced, tasting and appreciating the craft of the dom who carried out the act.

This is why I think that it takes real cruelty to hurt me. At least to hurt me to the level that I want to be hurt. Because I won’t show you that I am enjoying it at any moment. Because I won’t be enjoying it. Because during the scene my entire body will scream, “Please stop and just hold me. Please, love me.”

But what you need to do is to ignore it and go on. And in order to do that you need to enjoy breaking this little heart. You need to enjoy using my vulnerability against me. You need to want to truly hurt. And you should.

Because trust me, the cruel one will thank you hundredfold for it.

And the needy one will heal. It always does.

My reflections after reading ‘Story of O’

This writing contains spoilers.

It’s way too late for me to read this book only now, but better later than never, I guess. It is such a deep account of a mind of a woman who gives herself entirely to someone else and it stirred up so much in me that I just had to collect my thoughts together after reading.

My dark side is darker than I thought

First of all, reading this book made me realize that I might be even more fucked up than I thought I am. Because no matter how much I don’t want to admit it, there is a part of me that truly envies O. And it’s not naive childish envy without realizing the consequences. I think that by now I can have quite a good feeling of what being in her place would entail. And I still kind of want it. Not just the sex and the pain and the loss of control over your body. I want her brokenness and her despair. I want her transformation and the total loss of dignity. I want the disintegration of her ego in the name of the man who owns her.

And believe me or not, but writing about it is really scary. It’s scary because it reveals my darkest side which existence I don't necessarily want to admit to. In the same way, as dominants are sometimes afraid of the darkness that lies within them and that revealing it to other people will cause losing them, I am also afraid of revealing my darkest desires. At the same time I feel like if I don’t, they will only grow until they really get out of control.

Because I think that as much as it is scary for a submissive to play with someone who has a really dark side that they must keep at bay or otherwise things will go really wrong, it is as scary for a dominant to play with a submissive who has such dark side. In a different way of course. Because the dominant knowing it about me will not be afraid of me hurting him irreversibly. He will be afraid of him doing it to me and me not telling him when to stop. And there is a part of me that will not want to stop.

I realize that being in such an intense dynamic as O would basically fuck up my life. I realize that I would lose my identity. Because it is not possible to be exposed to such extreme situations of mental degradation and humiliation, to be stripped away of any control over what is happening with you and your body and get out of it unscathed. It would break me. And exactly that brokenness is what is luring me. Because I am curious what lies beyond that state. Would I be able to build myself up again?

In my teenage years, I loved reading fantasy books, because they were full of stories of people tortured physically and mentally and subsequently broken and becoming pets of their enemies. I devoured those stories. And not because I am a sadist and enjoyed reading about their misery. On the contrary, I enjoyed putting myself in the position of the victims. Imagining me being in their place and experiencing all the humiliation and tortures and slow breaking of my spirit. Watching myself becoming docile and obedient.

The interesting thing is that as much as I enjoyed reading about the breaking, I also very much enjoyed the rebuild. Because in the end, they were always becoming stronger. In the end, they always managed to get free and were starting the slow journey of rebuilding themselves. And after that was done, they were even fiercer and stronger. Because once you lost everything that you thought holds value and you’re still there, your perspective on who you are and what really is worthy, shifts entirely. And I think that that is one of the things that I am really interested in. Would I be able to repair myself after being so broken? And what kind of person would I become after that?

I started to appreciate much more the possibilities that the physical pain gives

My journey into kink started with humiliation, as this was what my first kinky boyfriend was very much into. After him, I quickly moved into the realms of physical pain though. I had a period of being extremely masochistic and looking mostly for physical pain in play. But then, after a while, something shifted in me and my kinks made a full circle back to humiliation, while I stopped enjoying physical pain so much.

I am not sure whether it is my auto-sadistic brain that decided that I will have more fun if I actually don’t enjoy pain, as it will increase my mental suffering, or whether after the first period of hormonal high, I decided that there is not enough depth for me in the physical pain domain, but the fact is that currently, I am in a period of appreciating mental pain much more than physical. More than that, I basically stopped enjoying physical pain altogether. I think that one of the reasons might be also that the people who give me pain nowadays are often the ones with whom I feel very submissive and from whom I wish only tenderness.

Reading ‘Story of O’ I started to see physical pain in a new light again. Not as a source of potential pleasure, but rather as a way to intensify my misery and as a catalyst for a mental breakdown that otherwise would be very difficult to achieve. And that got my attention.

I realized that being physically tortured really does something to you that possibly nothing else can. It makes you docile and obedient. It trains you to accept your faith and it shows you that you don’t matter. Of course, you can possibly achieve the same results with mental abuse, but something tells me (although I can’t explain why) that the results would not be exactly the same. There is something urgent and inevitable in the physical pain that mental abuse does not have. I don’t think that it is only the speed with which it causes the person to break, I think that it is also the way that it makes you break that is very different and quite interesting.

There is also another aspect of corporal torture, and especially the marks that it leaves that 'Story of O' revealed to me thanks to one sentence.

"Sir Stephen readily admitted that O was infinitely more moving when her body was covered with marks, of whatever kind, if only because these marks made it impossible for her to cheat and immediately proclaimed, the moment they were seen, that anything went as far as she was concerned."

I’ve never looked at it this way, but it makes so much sense that the marks are something to be ashamed of (or that one should be ashamed of) because they show that anything goes with me. They prove that you can treat me as badly as you wish and I will let you do that. I was always covering my marks, but more because I didn’t want uncomfortable questions. I’ve never looked at marks though as a source of shame about my lack of dignity, as a sign that I will let others do anything to my body. Now I can see it, though. And it offers lots of new exciting possibilities.

There is definitely something of a slave in me

There are many aspects of being a slave, like O was, that appeal to me. Above all, the lack of control and disregard with which other people are treating you. As a submissive you still have dignity, you belong to your Dom and it is something that you can be proud of. He is proud that you belong to him. You obey his orders, also because you know that he values you and he wants the best for you. He cares about you. Other people see that and respect you for that as well. But the position of a slave as was shown in the book is different. And in a way much more appealing to me.

The thing with me is that I don’t want to be cared about and respected. At least my dark side that I feed during play doesn’t. I want to be truly disregarded. I want to be used. And that is why the situation of O was so alluring for me. Because sir Stephen was truly disposing of her as if she didn’t matter to him. Or else, she did matter to him as your car would matter to you, but he definitely didn’t consider her feelings. They were completely out of the question. To him, she wasn’t a person. And she loved it.

"Would she ever dare to tell him that no pleasure, no joy, no figment of her imagination could ever compete with the happiness she felt at the way he used her with such utter freedom, at the notion that he could do anything with her, that there was no limit, no restriction in the manner with which, on her body, he might search for pleasure. Her absolute certainty that when he touched her, whether it was to fondle or flog her, when he ordered her to do something it was solely because he wanted to, her certainty that all he cared about was his own desire, so overwhelmed and gratified O that each time she saw new proof of it, and often even when it merely occurred to her in thought, a cape of fire, a burning breastplate extending from the shoulders to the knees, descended upon her."

And that’s definitely something that I identify with very strongly. To belong to someone who really uses me for his own pleasure disregarding my feelings completely is the greatest of joys.

I also loved all the small things that Rene and sir Stephen instilled on O to remind her at all times who she really is. How her lips always had to be slightly open, her legs never crossed and her clothes such that they are always easy to take off and have their way with her. I can only imagine how such small things can have a huge impact on one’s psyche. And that was only the beginning.

She had to expose herself whenever sir Stephen ordered her to, no matter who else was in the room. He would make his servant beat her, and give her away to his friends for use any way they wanted. Finally, in the last scene, he put her naked wearing an owl mask in the middle of a party, where people treated her as some weird animal, touching her and looking at her, but not once saying a word to her. She was just put in the middle of a crowd like some sort of cheap entertainment and after that used by the men who brought her there.

All these things are fantasies of mine. To be stripped away of my dignity, slowly broken into obedience, disgraced publicly, given away to anybody like a thing. To be put in a crowd for entertainment and really be treated as such. To be truly disregarded by a mob, have everyone around me treat me without respect. Isn't that how slaves are treated?

The thing about a slave in a D/s sense that doesn’t suit me though is that it seems to me like it is an awful lot of work for the Dominant/Master. Because having someone’s life in your hands is a huge burden in my opinion. Deciding about each aspect of someone else’s existence requires a lot of effort. They consume a lot of your attention. It requires a certain devotion from the owner. And I often feel that I couldn’t ask for that. Because I feel that I wouldn’t want to take so much space in someone else’s life. I am not sure if it is because of my tendency to be independent and to make my needs as small as possible or because I wouldn't trust my life to anyone to such a degree. But it's a reason why I don’t see myself as someone’s slave.

What I do see myself as is a toy. Their’s to play with whenever they please, in whatever way they please, and independent and self-sufficient whenever they get busy with their lives. Of course, in such circumstances, you won’t reach the level of devotion and depth that’s possible when you belong to the other at all times. But you also don’t become a burden that you might become as a slave. At least that is how I feel about it and being a burden is the last thing that I would wish to be for my Dominant.

___

Reading this book was quite a ride for me. I can't believe that the author managed to describe the process of falling deeper and deeper into submission and the feelings of the submissive so well. And how many times I wished I was in place of O. I don't think that I ever will get to that point. But the repertoire of my fantasies definitely has grown substantially after the read.

There is so much sadness in me, it’s almost spilling over the brim

It’s interesting what you can find when you stop doing for a moment and start feeling yourself instead. I’m trying to do it more lately, and one of the things that I’ve found is an enormous sadness. Not depressive, my-life-sucks kind of sadness. I think that I have a pretty good life. More like a calm and appreciative sadness.

I guess that I am strange (who isn’t though?), but I really enjoy being sad and being with that feeling. Whenever I can choose, I'll always choose a sad movie, a sad book, sad music. I love the complexity of negative emotions. There is just so much more to be felt there. When you're happy, you're just happy. It's very simple. Nothing to think about and analyse there. Feeling down is an entirely different story. There are so many shades of pain. So many thoughts and feelings to be experienced.

Maybe I am wrong though. Maybe it's just that I became so familiar with the negative emotions that I can see all the different shades of them, while happiness is so rare and overwhelming for me, that I can’t appreciate its richness. It’s like when you taste something new and you just get hit by the unfamiliar flavour, not able to taste all the nuances. Only once you get familiar with it, you start to taste all the subtle tones and differences. Maybe that’s it, I don’t know. But I don’t think it really matters.

What matters is that I like sadness. It feels familiar and soothing. And in the end, it’s just a feeling. All feelings come and go, some of them are pleasant and others are not. It just so happens that what for me is pleasant, for most of the people is not. Matter of taste.

Since I remember, I’ve been like that. I have never hidden from negative emotions. Whenever something difficult was happening in my life, I would dive headfirst into it and into feeling what it does to me. I guess that I am the opposite of a person who suppresses their emotions. I kind of amplify them and go all in. Of course, it also means that I experience joy very strongly. But it so happens that it’s not something that takes place very often. Or maybe I just don’t focus on it.

I think that it has a lot to do with my tendencies to push myself. I basically live on the border of my comfort zone the entire time, constantly diving outside and exploring what is there. And usually, when you dig deep in your psyche, there are more wounds to be found there than soft spots. I think that there are no people who didn’t experience some emotional pain that scarred them in a way. There are just different ways of dealing with it. My way is to bathe in the wound.

I am not doing it in a picking-on-scabs kind of way though. I am just sitting with it and taking it in, feeling all the emotions that arise and letting them wash through me. Because they are important and beautiful and they also have a place in life. And who said that happy feelings are better than sad? Why is laughter considered better than crying?

I guess that my point is that sadness and negative emotions, in general, are more natural to me than happiness and I don’t think that there is anything wrong with it. More than that, I think that it brought a lot of amazing things into my life, like tango, kink and most importantly rope. Because what drew me to all of them is the melancholy, the darkness, the despair and the suffering that is at their core. Of course, they don’t have to be practised this way. I know many people who find happiness and fun and joy in their play, who dance to embrace and connect with the other person, to share intimacy with them. I also know people who do rope in a fun and relaxed way, to enjoy the sensual experience and the closeness with the other person. I am not one of those people.

That is not to say that I don’t find joy and happiness in my practice. I do. But I only find it and appreciate it when it’s mixed with pain and suffering. And that is also what I am looking for. I am not doing rope or dancing or kink because I want to feel good and have fun. I am doing it because I want to feel hurt. I want the heartache. I want to be immersed in melancholy and sadness. I am putting myself bare out there so that my partners can really touch me. I am fully open and vulnerable because I am not afraid to be hurt. I am not afraid of pain, of rejection, of loneliness. In fact, I am looking for it.

Of course, it’s not like I am searching for my heart to be truly broken. I don’t want to be truly hurt. That is why I love kink so much because it allows me to experience all these negative feelings in an isolated and emotionally safe (more or less) way. But I am not paralyzed by the fact that I might be hurt. And that gives me strength. It gives me the strength to know that I can be with the good and the bad. And it feels good to be comfortable with these yearnings that are so deep in me. To recognize them and appreciate them. To see myself whole.

Because sadness does suit me very well. I am a natural in suffering. And I am pretty when I cry.

With him I go so quiet that I almost disappear

Have you ever met someone that you've been so submissive towards that when you are around them, your entire personality basically disappears? They ask you about your opinion and all you can think about is what opinion would they like you to have? They ask you what you want and your mind goes blank because you don't want anything, except for giving the right answer to their questions.

I did.

And it's both amazing and terrifying.

Even when he tries to have a normal conversation with me, I just can't get myself to express my thoughts with him. Because when he is around, there is basically no me to express.

Normally speaking I tend to be quite opinionated. And I can usually express myself verbally very well. But not with him. When he's around, I'm paralyzed. I'm constantly afraid that I might say something stupid or simply something that he might not agree with. So I just try not to say anything, unless explicitly asked to. And even then it comes with difficulties.

My favourite moments are when he's using me because then I know exactly what he wants and I don't need to worry if I did something against his wishes. I can relax in being his toy, used exactly as he likes.

I actually quite enjoy this suppression of my personality. It's freeing. I don't need to be anything anymore. I don't need to worry about what other people might think of me. Only his opinion matters and as long as he is happy, I'm in bliss.

When I'm in that space, I go quiet. My mind is free of my usual worries. The only things that I worry about are related to him and there are usually not that many, as most of the time he is quite happy with me.

I also go quiet socially as I don't really have much to say. I only exist in relation to him. So when other people try to interact with me exclusively, it's a bit like if they were trying to interact with a toy that he took batteries out of. You can still squeeze some fun out of it, but it is a rather limp version of what it is when the batteries are in.

Maybe I am exaggerating, but I really feel that this is who I am around him.

And it sometimes makes me worried.

Usually, people tell me that one of the main reasons why it's gratifying to have me submit to them is that they are aware of how much I'm giving up. They saw me in normal situations when I'm my usual, opinionated, cheerful, maybe sometimes even a bit bitchy, self. And they find it special when I give it all up for them.

With him, it's not the case though. He has never seen me different. He has never seen my ‘normal’ self.

And I just can't stop worrying that he will get bored of me very soon. Seeing only my submissive side. Quiet and docile.

Maybe I'm wrong.

Probably.

But I really can't see what can be interesting about someone who is so invisible. So reactive. Who has no opinion of her own? Nothing smart to say. Who can't do anything properly, because her hands are shaking all the time? Someone without the personality of her own.

I do realize that it's not fair to think this way. On good days I understand that it might be seen as admirable to be so devoted to someone. To forget one's ego to such a degree. To be so vulnerable and open. It can have a value of its own, not only in relation to my other side. More than that, it might even be the most valuable side of me.

But I won't really feel it until I start to appreciate myself for it. Give it a place in my identity. There is no amount of praise from other people that can convince me that this part of me is worthy, without me wanting to hear that it is. Even if it comes from the most important people.

Deep inside I think that it actually might be seen as quite beautiful.

But it's really scary to start to identify with it. It seems so squishy and vulnerable. It feels safer to despise it. To not treat it as me.

Only if I keep doing that, I will also keep rejecting the connections that I've made when I let it out. And that is something that I can't do.

Because being quiet, I've experienced some of the most beautiful encounters. It would be a shame to deny them their validity by not admitting that that's also me.

Defining a Toy

I love to figure myself out. And lately, I've been asking myself a lot what does it mean that I identify as a Toy? Why do I feel like it fits me better than a submissive or a masochist that I’ve labelled myself before? Because it's not like I am not submissive or not masochistic. I am. But there is something about Toy that gives a distinct flavour to all the other roles that I identify with. And it really speaks to me.

Because what I want above all is to be played with. And now you can say, “Well, that’s not very special. All kinky people want to play. That’s what we are here for.” but what I mean is that I want to be toyed with, physically and emotionally. And above all, I want to be a source of entertainment.

The origins

Since I remember, I would let my friends make jokes about me and laugh at me. It never bothered me much. What they were saying was funny, they were laughing and I was laughing with them. Other people were sometimes surprised why would I let someone ridicule me like that, but I didn't see anything wrong with that. It's not like I wasn't able to cut their jokes if I wanted to. I wasn't a victim of bullying. I would never let someone whom I didn't like to make jokes about me. It was a privilege for the people whom I really liked. And the way that they were making jokes usually showed how much they knew me, which I was finding really pleasing. They were appreciating my openness and sense of humour and I was happy to be a source of entertainment for them.

I have also always loved to be manipulated. And again, it's not like I couldn't prevent it from happening. I usually knew perfectly what the other person was doing and I could stop it if I wanted to. But I didn’t because I preferred to enjoy their craftsmanship. I let them lead me wherever they wanted to lead me because I appreciated their effort. They were having fun with steering my mind where they wanted it to go and I was having fun being steered. I was glad to be able to give them pleasure like that.

These situations repeat themselves in kink. I like when my partners are mean to me or when they ridicule me. I like when they make the most painful jokes about me. I also love when people are manipulating me in play. When they send my mind in different directions while preparing a trap exactly where I least expect it. I appreciate their wit when they are doing so. I appreciate when they show that they know how to control my thoughts and when they know where to strike to hit me the hardest.

And I am happy to be the person for which they don’t need to censor themselves. There is something appealing in being mean to others and in using others. There is an undeniable joy in malice and in having power over someone. I like to be the source of that joy. I like to provide my partners with this kind of entertainment. And isn’t that what toys are for? For letting other people simulate situations that they would enjoy in real life, but which for some reason are not available to them? And, of course, for entertainment?

I want to have the attention of the other

I think that one of the main reasons why I enjoy all of it being done to me is that it gives me the attention of the other. And what does the toy want more than attention? Its only use is being played with, being entertaining to its owners. If it is granted their attention, then it means that it's serving them well because they want to play with it. If they don’t, then it's failing its purpose.

I love the attention. And when you give yourself fully to someone, you do get all their attention. If they want to use you to play their games, to elicit the emotions that they enjoy seeing in people, then they need to learn you. And for that, they need their focus to be on you. And I love that. I love when people are reading me, when they are seeing me and when they are figuring me out.

I think that part of me thinks that the only way in which I deserve the attention is when I am being useful to someone. The only reason why someone would want to see me is that I can serve them in some way. Part of me believes that I need to be pleasurable to the eye and entertaining at all times for others to notice me. That otherwise I am not worth their attention.

It is a part of me that now fuels my play. And I kind of love it, as it lets me have tremendously intense dynamics with people. I feel like I am in a way channelling my insecurities and my inner pleaser into play. And it allows me to partly eliminate it from other parts of my life. In play, I bring it to such an extreme that I start to see better how ridiculous it is to think that way in general. Also, having time for honest aftercare, when you hear from your partners how they value you for who you are is great for silencing the insecurities. But still, I wouldn't want my attention-seeking, pleasing self to go away entirely. In the end, it is the foundation of my toyness.

I want to see what they do with me, once they realize they can use me as they please

I'm so eager to be played with that I make it extremely easy to engage in play with me. I don't want to make it difficult. I don't want to be conquered and for my submission to be earned. I enjoy submitting way too much. I yearn to be in that space. I want the dominant to take me, to ‘have’ me. That's where the fun starts. I want to see what they are going to do with me. How are they going to use this toy that dropped so eagerly into their hands?

I used to be worried that maybe it's boring. Maybe dominants enjoy the struggle? Maybe they enjoy conquering the submissive, maybe they enjoy making him or her submit?

I don't think so anymore. It's not like the way I am is worse or better. It's just different. For me, the fun is not in having the power being taken away from me. I'm usually handing it over willingly. For me, the fun is in seeing and experiencing what the dominant decides to do with that power. In having a peek into his or her twisted mind. Is he or she thinking what I am thinking? Knowing that I will be willing to do most of the things that they might be fantasizing about, which of them will they decide to put into reality? And how will it affect me?

I want to be used and disregarded

I am not very specific in terms of play that I enjoy doing. Or maybe I should put it differently. I don't pay too much attention to my preferences when it comes to play. There are things that I do like, like rope bondage or being manhandled or knife play. But even apart from these, I can find pleasure in almost anything. Because what I value more than my own enjoyment is being used for the enjoyment of the other. And if it so happens that what they enjoy is not necessarily into my liking, that is even better. I want them to do it anyway because it is not me and my preferences, which are important in this game. I am just an object for them to entertain themselves with.

I love for my needs to be disregarded, not taken into account. I love when the dominant uses me for his or her pleasure. As a Toy, I don't think that my needs should be considered. Ideally, I should not have any needs. I do, though. I could see it as a flaw, but I don’t because I think that it makes it all the more fun for the dominant. As long as he or she enjoys objectifying and emotionally torturing other people. And those are the people who I am usually used by.

I could enjoy the things that are done to me just because the dominant is enjoying them. I believe that some submissives have that. Feeling pleasure from the fact that you are pleasing your dominant. I usually don't. I can be pleased after the scene if I was able to provide them with entertainment but I don’t feel pleasure during the scene because of the fact that the dominant is enjoying themselves. During the scene my discomfort and distress are real. I truly don’t enjoy the things they do to me. Which gives me all the more pleasure afterwards when I contemplate what they did. And which makes me fun to play with for emotional sadists. Because what fun it is to torture people when they find pleasure in what is being done to them?

I want to be a source of entertainment

I’ve mentioned it before and it is a bit tied with wanting the attention, but I feel like it deserves a separate line of thought. Because the thing is that I feel like in order to be able to deserve the attention, I need to be entertaining to others. And what kinds of Toys are the most entertaining? Interactive ones, I figured.

So I am very responsive in play. I react to everything that the other person is doing to me. They provide action and I am giving them the reaction. As I’ve said, I want people to read me, but at the same time I so much want to be played with that I don’t want that reading to be too much of an effort for them. I want the process of reading me to be fun because I am worried that otherwise, they will get bored before they get to the bottom of it. So I want to make it fun from the start, but at the same time to let them know that there is much more to be discovered.

I guess that if I would be a toy sold in a shop, the label on my packaging would read something like:

“This Toy is entertaining, but complex. It has many layers. Peeling off each one of them is a pleasure in itself, but it also leads to something even more enjoyable and even more intricate. So keep discovering it.”

I like to play with people, who enjoy that complexity. If someone gets satisfied after the first layer, I am kind of disappointed. I feel like screaming, “But there is so much more to me than this, don’t you want to play more?”

I like curious people. The ones who are able to discover many of my uses. The ones who are inventive. Because the thing is that even I don’t know all of my uses. When people play with me, I am playing right by their side. Peeking from behind their shoulder at my own reactions. And I am equally fascinated by them as they are.

I want to be used by many

I am not a kind of submissive that devotes herself to one person only. At least not to the best of my knowledge. I can be extremely devoted to one person at the moment, but I feel like I wouldn’t want to play exclusively with one person until the rest of my life. As an object of pleasure, I want to be enjoyed by many. I want to see what each person would do with the possibilities that I have to offer.

I am not saying that I wouldn’t like to be a beloved Toy of one very special person. But people rent their toys, even the beloved ones, to very special friends from time to time. If they are fun, then it is a shame to play with them all alone and not share with others.

Another thing that I discovered recently is that my need to please and entertain is not limited to the people that I feel submissive towards. I want everyone who plays with me to have fun. I will try to do what pleases them, just so that they are having a good time. I will let sadists hurt me because they enjoy giving pain. I will be sensual with people who enjoy sensuality. I will do as I am told by dominants because I want them to keep playing with me, even if they are not my dominant and I don’t really feel submissive towards them.

My draft definition

I think that the love for being treated like an object, combined with a need for being given attention and to be interacted with are very toy-like properties. Add to it the feeling that my purpose is to be entertaining and the extent to which I am willing to go to provide this entertainment, together with being open to being used by many and I feel like some sort of defining traits start to clarify.

I feel like all my other kinky traits revolve around being a Toy. Both my submissiveness and my masochism are flavoured by my toyness. My submission is very use-oriented and interactive. My masochism presents itself only when I can see that the other person enjoys seeing me enjoying the pain. But the Toy is always there and it is overarching everything else.

Finally, I don’t think that the things that I wrote about are all there is to it. But it is a good start. And I will keep digging until I define this elusive identity of mine.

This time of the year when you are reminded once again very acutely how far from ordinary your life is

So it came again. This time of the year, when you meet with your colleagues and their partners for a Christmas dinner and you realize that you are never going to achieve their level of normalcy (which you usually don’t aspire to, but being so acutely aware of your distance from it makes you slightly uncomfortable and feeling out if place).

This time when people ask you to summarize your year and tell them what the highlights were and all you can think of is how your dominant made you believe that he is a psychopath and you feared for your life or how you were hypnotized into a rag doll and fucked mercilessly while being half-conscious and helpless. Or how you were tortured and humiliated in rope in front of forty people and how afterwards everyone was telling you that it is was beautiful.

It is this time of the year when the frequency of biting your tongue, awkward silences and coming up with the worst possible lies is at its year-high.

Will there ever be a time when I can stop hiding my personality from the world?

Both kink and polyamory have grown to shape a big part of who I am. It happened organically and it has changed me on many levels. I really love how I've developed in the past two years and I would love to be able to share it with others. Unfortunately, sometimes it is not the best idea.

In general, people talk about relationships frequently, which makes hiding polyamory quite complicated. Because if I want to talk about my relationships, I either have to lie or I need to explain myself. Becoming polyamorous changed the way that I look at relationships and love in general. It made me both more connected and more self-sufficient at the same time. It made me question the status quo in many other aspects of life, also outside of romantic relationships. On the one hand, I would like to share it with other people, because I feel like otherwise, I am not myself with them. I am putting on a facade that is socially accepted, but it is not who I am. I am also not able to talk about all the important people in my life without lying who they are to me. But on the other hand, I know that my choices are not standard and if I share them, I will have to go through a process of explaining them as well. And not everyone that I interact with is worth going through it. Also, not everyone that I share it with will approve of it. I might turn some people against me. In terms of friendships, it is perfectly fine for me to lose people in my life if they can’t accept my choices. But when it comes to career or family, things get more complicated.

As for kink, one could say that not talking about it shouldn't be such a problem, as people usually don't share with others what they do in their bedrooms. That’s true, they don’t, but kink and D/s are way more than just sex for me. It's a way of life. It's a certain attitude and it permeates all aspects of my life. Accepting the fact that I am submissive, learning about my reactions to dominant people and playing with people, in general, taught me so much that I feel like I am putting on a very thick mask when I decide not to share those experiences. The play that I do requires constant self-analysis and work on myself, which often leads to enlightening discoveries. When I am around vanilla people, I need to police myself a lot not to share certain thoughts and insights, because I don’t want to be asked where I got them from. I need to shut off a big part of my life, lie about my free time activities and where I’ve met many of my friends and partners.

The alternative is even more complicated though because kink is so misunderstood in the society that sharing about it can potentially be dangerous, even leading to losing my career or the people that I love.
For me being open and true to myself is one of the most important values. But by being honest about kink and polyamory, I put myself in the spotlight. I give myself a label. Because once I share it, it is going to be one of the main things that people will remember me from. And they are going to ask me about it and I will have to explain it to them in the best way possible because it might be the only insight that they get into polyamory or kink and I don’t want to create a wrong image. The sheer fact that I’ve made many non-standard choices in my life creates a dilemma where I either have to be dishonest or serve as an example and an advocate of the choices that I’ve made. And sometimes I feel like I just want to live my life.

Will there ever be a time when I can proudly talk about how I express myself creatively?

I am a data scientist and I have an analytical mind, but I’ve always loved art. And I’ve been looking for ways to express myself artistically since I remember. I’ve tried playing the piano, singing, cooking, dancing and writing. Without greater success. Argentine tango was giving me some sort of satisfaction, but it was far from fulfilment.

Last year I finally found an activity that does make me feel like I am really creating some sort of art. It is rope bondage. And maybe writing about kink a little bit, but I don’t feel good enough in it to really be proud of it. In any case, I would love to be able to talk about these subjects. I used to feel kind of inferior towards people who I thought were creative, because I felt like they have something that I don’t. But at the same time, I’ve always found them fascinating and I was looking for their company. Thanks to rope and kink I feel like I also have something to say in terms of creativity and I would love to be able to share it with people whom I admire. Unfortunately, it is not always a good idea.

Last week during a Christmas dinner I’ve been talking to the husband of my manager (whom I find extremely interesting, very intelligent and well educated with a successful career in business, who happens to also be a recognized photographer with a number of exhibitions in galleries and so on). Before dinner we visited a photography exhibition and we had a talk about it afterwards. Then he asked me if I do anything to express myself artistically. That was a difficult moment for me. I really value his opinion and I wanted to impress him. I was so tempted to tell him that I am a Japanese rope bondage model and that I love it. That I feel like rope exposes some aspects of myself that are really at the core of who I am. That I think that I can really touch people with what I do. And that I really am starting to feel like I have something to say in it. That I understand what it means to create. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because then I would have to explain to him what it is and where it comes from. And I would probably have to admit that I am kinky.
For me, rope is so much more than kink. It really allows me to express myself in ways that I didn’t know were possible. It is a beautiful art that I find utterly fascinating. Practising it is a big part of my life and I love to talk about it. Unfortunately, the only people that I can freely talk about it with are kinky people. With all the other people I need to remember that sharing about it equals coming out. And there are some people with whom coming out might be a really big deal and not in a good way.

Is staying in hiding really a good idea if I want something to change?

I keep asking myself this question. If I and fellow kinksters and polyamorous people keep staying in hiding, will anything ever change? Will public opinion about what we do ever change, if we don’t share about what we do? I hate the fact that I need to hide a big part of myself in most of my everyday interactions. That I always need to weigh my options carefully before I decide whether I can be completely transparent with someone. I hate putting on masks.

I feel like if I want something to change and if I want people to understand polyamory and kink, I should talk about it. By keeping it in hiding, I keep behaving like there is something wrong with what I am doing. And I definitely don’t think there is.

But… Sharing about it is an act of courage that is hard sometimes. People often feel threatened when they hear about other people being different than them. They don’t like them. And we are dependent on other people in our lives. We live in a society. We work for other people. We manage and are managed by other people. And if we want to be successful in a society, we need to make other people feel comfortable around us. We need them to like and respect us. And if we seem too different, they won’t.

So I am still doubting whether I want to be open about my choices or not. On the one hand, I feel like I should, not only because it makes me uncomfortable to pretend someone that I am not, but more because I feel like being open is the right thing to do if I want anything to change in the way that society views kink and polyamory. On the other hand, though, I don’t want to risk being pushed to the margins of the society and losing a chance for a successful life, because I’ve been too honest with the wrong people. Honesty makes you vulnerable and your vulnerability might be abused by some.

I am not sure if I am ready to pick up this fight. I am not sure if my position is strong enough to hold the weight of judgement that will come with coming out. I try to be honest about it with the people whom I trust, but I feel like that it is not enough. It’s easy, to be honest with people who you know will support and understand you. Or at least will try to understand. But I feel like I am not ready to be fully transparent yet. Especially not about kink. I feel like I am not ready to make most of my social interactions about defending my choices.

So I guess that I will have to still suffer through that period of lying and wearing thick masks to pretend that I am just like everybody else. It is saddening that it feels like I need to shield other people from who I am. It is saddening that I feel like I am not strong enough to be fully open about who I am. I hope that one day I will. I feel like I owe it to myself. But this time has not come yet.

Thank you for making everything fall into place

I am not sure if it would be possible for me to live my life this way the entire time. I'm not yet sure if I would want to. There are other parts of me that need catering to which I feel like I was abandoning when I was with you. Yet, being around you, there was a quiet and calmness in me that I’ve never experienced before. Everything seemed to be in the right place. I was in the right place. All that matters had been taken care of and all the rest disappeared. It was a new and powerful experience.

To be so free when no decisions belong to you. To be allowed to just be, just take what is coming. To be so fixated on another person that you completely forget your needs. To be completely selfless. It felt like real freedom. Not being able to choose anything I want, but not having to choose at all. And at the same time feeling seen and appreciated.

To give someone the greatest of gifts that you can give, yourself in its entirety, and to feel that they understand the importance and the weight of it and that they will treat it with care. I thought that I understand it, but I wasn't fully aware of what it means to give yourself to someone fully. Now that I’ve felt it, I know that I've been longing for it for such a long time.

I've been grooming myself for so long to be the most enjoyable toy to entertain yourself with. I was taking care of my body and mind, developing myself so that when the time comes, I will be able to entertain you. So that I will be enjoyable for you to be around and to use. So that you can use me in the ways that you would wish to, without having to worry whether I can take it. I've been building myself strong so that with the right maintenance I can serve you long without breaking.

It's amazing how well you understand me. How well you know what to give me back in return for my service. All I want is to be seen. To be discovered. All I want is for someone to dive deeper and deeper into my psyche and make me more and more open and vulnerable. To peel off my insecurities and worries, one by one. To show me who I really am and what I am capable of.

To meet somebody who is able to handle having so much power over someone and not break under the weight of it is not an everyday encounter. I am sure that giving up all the control is what I yearn for, but I also know that it is not bearable for most of the people. And I won't put it into somebody's hands if I don't feel like they are strong enough to hold it.

You are strong enough to hold it. The reason why I trust you so much is that I feel like you are perfectly aware of what we are toying with and you are completely comfortable with that responsibility. You delight in my mind. You delight in the possibilities that I have to offer. With you, I can go further than I've even gone because I feel like you feel better than I do where my limits are. You trust me that I can take it and then I trust myself that I can take it as well.

You are also so extremely attentive and focused. You don't take me for granted. The worst thing I could experience is when I offer abundance to someone and they don't notice me in it. They are enjoying my gifts, but they don't see the person who is giving them. They get so lost in enjoying the power they've been granted that they forget about the one who is giving it to them.

You love the feeling of power that you have over me. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes. And there is nothing that gives me more happiness than seeing how much pleasure I can give you. But no matter how much of a power rush you experience, you never forget the source of it. No matter how small and unimportant you make me feel, you never forget about me. Being seen by you, even when I am in my most despicable self. Being appreciated for going so low for your pleasure, that's the deepest yearning of my heart fulfilled.

Thank you for making things fall into place. Thank you for making me feel like I am not too much. Thank you for accepting my gift. It means the world to me to finally feel like this part of me that has been hidden and despised for so long is beautiful and special and truly understood. Thank you for taking everything from me. Only after it's all been taken away, I can finally see myself fully.

Losing a dominant

Apparently all good things must come to an end, and sometimes the end comes sooner and more unexpected than one would want. It is a tough lesson to learn, but it makes me appreciate even more the short moments of joy that I experience in my life sometimes. Being his property was definitely one of those moments.

It is the first time that I lose this kind of dynamic with someone without it being exhausted. I ended relationships with dominant people in the past but it was always in the moment when the power exchange was already fading or even gone. This time it was still very much alive, actually, it was only starting to gain momentum. And losing it so abruptly feels like there is a void in me that needs closing off because it sucks up the pleasure that I used to have from play.

Suddenly I have to go back to thinking about what do I actually want. Suddenly my sexuality is again mine alone. It's confronting and confusing. I can again have sex with whoever I want (including myself) and whenever I want. But the thing is… It's not necessarily what I want… Not belonging to someone, not having to ask for permission to do sexual things takes a lot of flavors away from them.

It's not like I don't enjoy play anymore. I do. But… Everything just feels different. After I've tasted how it feels to be truly someone's, it is hard to look at the things that you used to do the same way. One thing is to enjoy being messed up by somebody, another is to enjoy being messed up by somebody knowing that you can only experience it because your dominant lets you.

When he was my owner, he had always been in the back of my head when I was doing sexual things, even when, physically, he was far away. It is like the triangle in a rope scene. There is you, there is your partner and there is the audience. Even though you are having a scene with your partner, you are still influenced by the presence of the audience. In my head, he was the audience.

Here is the thing that I've learned about myself being part of this dynamic. There is nothing that lures me more than being somebody's property. But not in the sense that they dictate my life and I'm dependent on them. That kind of ownership does not interest me. There is nothing that I enjoy more than shaping my life the way that I want it to be. And there is nothing that I hate more than other people telling me what to do.

But sexually... That's an entirely different story. Sexually all I want is to hear what I am supposed to do. Sexually all I want is to lose my agency. To become a vessel of somebody else’s desires. To share with them my wishes and then have them entirely disregarded, because they simply aren’t what the other person feels like doing.

This kind of devotion does not develop overnight. And not with anybody. Giving myself fully to someone is what I crave for, but it is also something that I must feel that the other person deserves. I must feel that they understand what is happening between us and what I am giving to them. Not many people do. And not many people even want this kind of devotion.

And that is ok. I will park this part of me for now. I will let it wait in hiding for a suitable person to be brought back to life. I will let the storm that was awakened in me to calm down to a soft breeze. I will enjoy all the other dynamics that I have with the rest of my partners. I will focus on other aspects of my life.

But, now that I’ve tasted it, I will never forget that taste. Sooner or later I will start to look for it again. I’ve been served a bitter-sweet poison for which there is no antidote. It runs in my veins now. And I know that when the time comes, it will overpower me again.

When his kindness makes you cry

So we’ve got to a point in our relationship in which no matter what he does, it leaves me a sobbing mess. He doesn’t have to abuse me for that anymore. He can also just be nice.

Last weekend he gave me a taste of what it would be like to have a normal relationship with him. We went to a cocktail bar, talked until early morning, woke up with me giving him a blowjob followed by us having sex. It sounds so normal, right? Only that it left my head completely messed up.

First of all, I woke up before him and spent 30 minutes looking at him and wondering whether he really said that I am allowed to wake him up by sucking his cock or did I only imagine it? Thinking about that made me really horny. And mostly not because of thoughts about sucking his dick (although that as well), but because of realising how much under his control I am that I am afraid to wake him up with a blowjob, because of fear that I will do something against his will. I will do something sexual without his permission.

In the end, he woke up before I overcame my fear (which would probably be never) and pushed my head down to his crotch. It was such a relief. Finally, I was sure what he wants from me and I could just follow. After a while of my eager sucking, he pushed me on my back and lifted my legs. My breath got faster and shallow. Is he really going to fuck me? He told me that he will, but I still couldn’t believe how lucky I am that it is actually happening. And when he filled me up, I started crying. All the feelings of anticipation, of rejection and denial, were finally letting go. It was really happening, he did want me after all.

And when I asked him if I can cum, he allowed me immediately. That made me cry even more. He was so kind to me. It felt almost… Normal. Like I was his beloved girlfriend, whom he is making love to. And it is not like I want to be his normal beloved girlfriend, but the feeling of how it would be, made me recall all the other moments when I didn’t feel like that at all. It made me realize even more strongly everything that I am not getting from him. It made me realise that he is giving me so little sexual tenderness that any act of it is almost painful. The buildup leading to it is so big that it makes it almost unbearable to receive.

And then the thoughts of self-doubt and self-blame came. Because how can I be so ungrateful for what he is giving to me? How bad must it feel for him that when he is being nice to me, I start to cry and almost lose my mind, instead of behaving like a normal human being and enjoying what is happening between us? In my head, nothing is ever his fault. It is not like he messed me up so badly that this is how I react to normal acts of love and desire. It is my fault for being unappreciative and behaving like I am mad, instead of acting normal. What was wrong with me?

After we were done, I felt really bad for putting him through this. I kept saying how sorry I am and he kept saying that it is ok and there is nothing to be sorry about. That he enjoys me the way I am. That he is not normal either and he would never want us to change.

I believed him, but I also couldn’t get over the fact of how fucked up in the head I am. The fact that there is no way for us to be a normal couple. The fact that even when it seems like we are not doing a scene, it ends up being a mindfuck for me. And in some way it is great. It is exactly what I dreamed of. But in other ways, it is also scary and pretty sick.

We can’t have everything and I would never replace the things we are having for a normal relationship. I do think that it is amazing that I react this way to his kindness and that it is a sign of us getting to interesting places with our dynamic. It felt also, however, like a point of no return. Or rather, it made me realise that we might have crossed that point a while ago. And I accept it. If vanilla tender sex and a bit of my sanity is a price that I will have to pay for going forward, so be it. I am ready to give it up for what is there to come.