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.