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?

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.

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.

Sometimes, I wish that you’d kiss me more

I don't dare to tell you that, because I don't want you to think that I'm greedy (which I am) or ungrateful (which I am not).

I do cherish every single moment when your soft lips touch mine like it's my last moment on Earth. In fact, at that moment, I wish that it was the last one. I wish that I could just stay like that forever, captured in an illusion of us together, loving and tender.

And because I am greedy, I want more of it. I want more taste of that romance, because it feels so, so good when you are soft to me. So good, that I freeze when it happens, afraid that even the slightest of my movements might make you change your mind. Hoping that maybe if I remain still, you won't notice how much pleasure you are giving me, and continue longer.

I think that you know exactly how much your kisses mean to me, though, and that is why you are granting me that privilege so rarely. And I'm glad that you do. I'm glad that it's you who is deciding when and how I am going to receive pleasure from you. And that you are so frugal when rationing it. I'm glad that your mind is so strong and composed when mine is squishy and soft and restless. 

Because if I could, all I would do, would be to kiss you. I would bathe in the taste of your lips day after day after day until I would grow so sick of it that I wouldn't want to taste them ever again and I would lose your kisses forever.

Sometimes, I wish that you'd kiss me more and I'm glad that my wishes are not what guides your choices. I'm glad that you are so relentless in not giving me what I want. I'm glad that my disappointment and desperation is what gives pleasure to you.

Because underneath that layer of neediness and softness, there is the me who needs to prove herself to deserve tenderness. There is the me who only appreciates what requires effort and hardship. The me who needs a constant challenge.   

And I know that it's not easy to be that challenge. 

I can't help but wonder, though, are you treating me this way because you know that scarcity is what I need, even though it's the abundance that I want? Are you catering to my deeper needs, the ones that I wouldn't express, but that actually need fulfilment? Do you want the tenderness and romance as much as I do on the surface, but you're just smarter than to give it to me?

Or… Do you simply not care about me, and are you kind to me from time to time out of pity, just enough to keep me coming back, but not enough to ever satisfy me? Is cruelty all you care about and are your kisses a necessary evil, a prize that I'm granted for 'good' behaviour, and that you generously put up with when you feel that it’s time for it? 

These are the questions that cross my mind when I am getting desperate about the fact that I could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that you've truly deeply kissed me. And when I am thinking about how much I enjoy and admire this fact and how devoted to you it makes me feel.

I hope that I will never learn the answers to these questions because I need them all to be positive. And that's impossible, I know. Or is it? 

It would be impossible, once I've heard the answers, but as long as I don't, I can believe them all to be true. Sometimes, I can believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast. I'm one of those, you know? Like with the Schrödinger's cat, as long as I don't open the box, all the possibilities are equally true and valid. And I need them to be.

Because sometimes, I need to believe that you don't care about me, otherwise the foundations of our dynamic would fall apart. And other times, I need to believe that you do, because otherwise what is between us would be a simple abuse and I would be its naive victim.

The uncertainty is what holds it all together. And even though I often wish it would go away, I know that it's a cowardly wish for safety. And like with the kisses, fulfilling it would take away from me what I really want. 

Sometimes I wish that you'd kiss me more, but I hope that you never will.

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.

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.

This time I wasn't scared, I was terrified

We've reached a new level of fear play recently. A level on which it starts to be really hard to tell the fantasy from the truth, where the line between them becomes blurry and you start doubting whether what you are doing is really just a game. And now the only thing that I can think of is that I want more.

We love fear play and we do lots of it. I think that fear is one of the emotions that are the easiest for him to elicit in me (apart from arousal). It is always bubbling under the surface when I am around him. And he uses it a lot in our play. For example when he snaps at me unexpectedly. Or when he grabs my throat and says “I could just kill you right now”.

I like to be afraid of him. There is something in the mixture of love and fear that is really intoxicating for me. It's this moment of confusion when you both relish in what is happening to you and at the same time wish that it was over. Your brain can't really comprehend it so it floods your body with hormones.

He can make me scared of many things. Of pain (even though I am a masochist, when he hurts me with the intention to really hurt, I don’t enjoy it), of his disappointment (since what I want the most is for him to be pleased with me), of him leaving me (yes, he can be mean like that), even of death from his hand (in play I do believe that it's a plausible scenario). In all these cases though, part of the reason why it works is that I want to be scared. I want to believe him. I enjoy playing this game. So I let my brain follow the route that he has prepared for me.

This time was different. This time he terrified me to the core, even though I was trying to convince myself that what he was saying was not true. I was trying to get out of the hole that he dug under me, but the harder I was trying, the deeper I was falling in.

It was after an already heavy scene where he was demanding me to answer his questions, while at the same time making me unable to speak by putting pressure on me and stressing me out, which always makes me lose my voice. It seemed like the scene was over and we moved to the aftercare. Only that we didn't. He can be amazing like that, striking the hardest when I least expect it.

We were talking and cuddling and he was telling me that he loves me. Suddenly his attitude shifted, he started to seem a bit mad, or maybe mad is a wrong word, a bit psycho. “You have no idea what you're getting into,” he said and started laughing. “I'm going to fuck you up. Oh yes, I'm going to fuck you up really badly.”, there was something in the way he said it that made me shiver and want to run. “Where do you think you're going? Come here, come to me.”, he said, grabbing my head fiercely with his forearm. “Don't worry, I'm here for you.”

Only I didn't want him to be there. I felt like I needed to get away from him or otherwise he will do something really bad to me. I started fighting, but there was no way for me to escape his grip. He was way too strong. “I think you don't understand. Even if you manage to convince yourself that you should leave me, which I don't think you will, I am not going to let you go. You're mine and there is nothing that can change it.”

I was terrified. Is that true? Is he really a psychopath and not a loving boyfriend with complementary kinky interests that I was taking him for? What if this is the only moment that he is being honest with me? What if all his love and devotion is just a lie in order to get to me? In order for him to be able to weave his net tighter and tighter around me until there will be no space for me to breathe? “Did you really think that I actually love you?” he asked and laughed again. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I don't. I just wanted to get to your tiny brain that is so much fun to play with. How could I love someone as pathetic as you?”

This broke my heart. It felt so wrong. I truly wanted him to stop at that moment. It wasn't fun at all. It wasn't just one of those little dramatic acts that we played so often. It felt real. It felt like one of those scenes in the movies about serial killers when they think they've won, so they start to reveal all their secrets to their victims. Only in the movies, it usually turns out that they didn't win. And here I definitely felt like he did. He was right, I belonged to him and I was not going to run from him. There was no question about that. It is something that I have been communicating to him for a while now, but it didn't seem like he was going to use that fact anytime soon. I wished he did, but I was also ready to wait as I didn't want to push him into anything. As it turned out, he is more than ready to use it, but I won't be able to predict how.

It's not like I believe that I'm dating a psychopath. I don't. But... He made me realise that I can't exclude this possibility. Because it's not like it's impossible. With his manipulation skills… I just can't exclude it. And it's fucking hot. He made me feel like I might be in real danger. And I will not be sure if I am until it's too late. Isn't that terrifying? And crazy sexy? Or am I just a little bit insane?

Random acts of malice aka Reasons why I love him so much

Somewhere at the beginning of our relationship. We are sitting on a couch, cuddling and fooling around. Suddenly he says “I've got something for you.”
Oh, how nice, what might it be? I light up and begin wondering. He stands up and walks towards his bag.
“It’s something small. And I'm not sure if you don't have one already.”, he says walking back, smiling, with his hand behind his back.
I don't know why, but the thought that immediately pops up in my head is that he bought me a collar. He had to somehow suggest it to me and my mind is very quick to pick up these kinds of ques. My thoughts start racing. Did he really? Did he get me a collar? I don't entirely believe it. We've only started dating. But… he said it's small and I might have one of those… What else might it be? I become excited. I think he bought me a collar! My eyes must be shining now and my heart starts beating faster.
Then he throws at me my legging that I left at a rope jam and asked him to pick up for me. In seconds my excitement is gone and I'm left disappointed and pouting.
“What are you making a sad face for?! Are you not happy that I brought you your legging? Ungrateful little bitch.”
“I'm grateful. Thank you, Sir.”
“Good”
crying inside of disappointment

---

A couple of weeks into dating. We just came back home from the movies. It was the first time that we went to the cinema together. We went to see The Artist & the pervert, an amazing documentary about one of the most famous composers of the XXI century, Georg Friedrich Haas, and his wife/slave, Mollena Williams-Haas, performer and storyteller, with whom he has a 24/7 master-slave relationship. The movie was great and raised a very interesting conversation on our way back.
We got home, sat together on a couch and started cuddling. Suddenly he says excitedly with a big smile “It was our first movie date together!” I grin back, my eyes shining, heart warmed up and head full of thoughts on how amazing our relationship is, how sweet it is to go on a date together, how close we are getting, how our next dates might look like…
And slap! He hits my face really hard and starts laughing. All the lovingness is gone and I once again recall what our relationship really is about, him toying with my feelings in the cruelest ways possible.

---

After very intense play when he denied me sex with him once again after about 2 months of waiting, which made me break down in tears and screams for about an hour and left me completely brainwashed, he texts me in the evening.
“Hmmm… I can't wait to fuck you :* “
“God… You didn't have to tell me that…”
“No, I didn't :) “

---

First time I'm spending a night at his house and we're finally going to have almost an entire Sunday for ourselves. He calls me to the bedroom and then asks,
“So what time is it?”
It was around 11 am I think.
“We have time until 5 pm. Should be enough for you to find some random stranger and make him fuck you. And you better don't come back before that.”
What?! What?! WHAT?!
My heart sinks. I did tell him that I fantasize about him giving me away to other people and making me fuck them. But not like this. Not now! I want to be with him! This is our Sunday.
He looks at me with this impenetrable expression and asks, “What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted?”
“Yes, I did… But… Not… Now…”
“Do you feel like you're not ready yet?”
I am starting to panic, What if this is my only chance to do this kind of play? What if this is a test and if I say no now, he will never propose it again? Being shared is one of my biggest fantasies, but right now all I want is to be with him.
“I don't think I am…”, I say almost crying.
“Alrighty then, come here.”, he hugs me and then starts laughing.
“Did you really think that I'm going to send you out like that today? Of course, I wouldn't do that! I am also looking forward to spending this Sunday with you, you silly.”

---

It's been a long while since I've had an orgasm and I was really horny. He was on holidays, camping. I asked him if I could maybe make myself cum tonight.
“You know my answer “ was his first reply, but then he added, “You would have to do something extremely embarrassing for me to reconsider.”
I started coming up with things that I could do, that would be embarrassing enough for him to let me cum. I sent a couple of proposals but didn't get any comments from him. He was out of battery at the God-forsaken camping place.
Coming up with embarrassing things that I could do to myself made me even hornier. I decided to go for a public plea that I would post on fetlife. I wrote the text, filling it with degrading and humiliating statements about myself and begging him to let me cum. I sent it to him and waited. After 3 hours he finally got his phone charged and replied.
“Did you post what you've written already?”
“Not yet”
“Isn't the crucial part of a public plea that it's public?”
“Yes, but I wasn't sure if you're going to see it… I'm going to post it…”
Me again after a while, “You really want me to post it right? And you don't have any comments?”
“Hey, it's your public plea, if you think it's good and might have a chance of success, I say go for it, I'll let you know my answer to a public plea when you make one”
“I knew that you're going to say sth like that “
“Yet you still ask. Wasting my time and the precious battery isn't helping your case…”
So I posted it and sent him the link. He replied after a couple of minutes. He didn't change his mind. The reply was still no. I revealed my most humiliating needs in public and embarrassed myself beyond reason for nothing. And he knew all along what I am getting into. How could I have not seen that one coming?

---

After a lovely dinner in a great Japanese restaurant, we're heading back to his car. When we enter the lobby, I start to jokingly ask if he rented a room for us and how much is he going to pay me. He is laughing and not saying anything but then when we get to the elevator, he presses the button calling it to go up.
Tiny thing but he knew it won't go unnoticed. For 30 seconds my hopes go up. How sexy would it be if he would get a room and now we're going there so he can use me as he pleases! We get into the elevator and he presses -1. So we were heading to the parking space after all...

Playing with fire

I think that my biggest kink is mind play. I like physical experiences, but the body has so much more limitations than the mind. You can vary the intensity and parts of the body to which you apply physical pain, but in the end, the experiences are quite similar. Of course, most of the time there is some emotional aspect related to the physical pain, but the spectrum of emotions you can elicit this way is rather limited to low-level ones, like fear or anger. The human mind on the other hand… There, the possibilities of inflicting pain are almost endless.

I am fortunate enough to have found someone who is equally fascinated by the possibilities of mental torture that the human brain has to offer. I love to be emotionally tortured and he loves to give me pain in this way. Seems like a match made in heaven, right? I thought so too, but it is not as perfect as it seems. What feels kind of schizophrenic in our relationship is that what we feel for each other enables us to play the way we enjoy the most, but also puts us at a huge risk of losing each other. One of the things that drew us together was almost impossible compatibility of our kinks. The same compatibility might bring our doom.

One of the things that we love to play with is rejection and humiliation. I suffer the most when I feel unloved, unimportant and ridiculed. When I am made to feel worthless and lonely. And there is no better person to make me feel that way than someone who I love dearly. He owns my heart and he can easily break it. And is there a worse pain than that of heartbreak and betrayal? For me, not much can compare. So I give him my heart to play with. And I urge him not to be cautious. Each time we play, I can feel it crack a tiny bit more. So far, we've been always able to fix it, so that not even a scratch is left. But will we always be?

Even though he has so much control over me, the biggest part of it, is the control over breaking things. And I am the one who does the fixing. I am the one who puts the effort into bringing myself together. It is not like he wouldn't want to make this effort, he just simply can't. He can help me with that, but he can’t just order me to feel better and wait until it will magically happen. For some reason, fixing things is way more complex, uncertain and internal than breaking. I have to do the work, and it is a kind of work that can't be forced. That’s the scary part for him because it is something that he has no control over, but at the same time, it affects him. So, even though it seems like I am putting my life in his hands, he is also putting his in mine. Or at least his emotional well-being. He has all the power to break me and he has a big understanding of the results of his abuse. At the same time, each time that we play, we push a bit further and it is a new territory that we are discovering. So he can never be sure if he is not going too far this time. And whether or not it was too far is actually entirely up to me.

It is not only my emotional health that we are toying with. Also, the future of our relationship is at stake. We are putting at risk something that we both care a lot about, for the sake of what? Sexual pleasure? That doesn't sound very reasonable... But is it only sex we are talking about? Would our relationship be as deep and intense without our sick little games? We actually need immense levels of trust and knowledge of the other person if we want to engage in this kind of play. Levels that you might not come across in a ‘vanilla’ relationship. We are extremely vulnerable as we display the darkest corners of our souls to each other. And being loved in such moment or even especially for those dark sides feels radically accepting.

So isn't it ironic? The more we are putting our love at risk, the deeper it becomes and the more there is to lose. The more we feed the fire, the bigger it becomes and the more heat it gives, but also the harder it gets to control. So here we are, caught in this bidding game, where the only way to go is to go forward and hope that you will keep winning. I feel that the odds are in our favour. And even if we lose, isn’t it better to have something special and then lose it, than never have it at all?

Lessons on pain, suffering and humiliation from Soptik and EisEve

Last weekend, Soptik and EisEve gave a performance followed by a 2-day intensive workshop at Ellipsis in Rotterdam. I attended both with high hopes and was not disappointed. In fact, I've learned way more than I expected.

The performance

Their performance left me speechless. I’ve heard that Soptik is a real sadist and I was prepared for an hour of enjoyment mixed with embarrassment while watching EisEve being tortured in his ropes. What I have seen was nothing like what I have expected. True, she was suffering for most of the performance, but mostly it was a spectacle of humiliation and objectification and a show of an intense D/s dynamic. And it was beautiful.

He started strongly by cutting open EisEve clothes and putting her in a partial involving only a neck rope, causing her to tiptoe and struggle for her life while he was tying a TK. He then put her in a series of transitions, each one slightly more difficult and exposing than the previous. She took them all gracefully. What was amazing to me was how intensely Soptik was focused on his model. He barely watched his ropes. His eyes were almost constantly fixated on her. And he was taking his time. He wasn’t hurrying from one position to another. Each position was a feast on its own and he was delighting in every little drop of EisEve suffering.

And she does suffer beautifully. From the first till the last moment of the performance, she was completely surrendered to him. You could feel that she would let him do anything to her. She was there at his disposal, surrendering completely to his ropes, with her eyes closed and her body relaxed. At the same time, she wasn’t lifeless. She was truly present and you could feel the intense emotions that she is going through.

At some point of the performance, Soptik gagged her with her own panties, which he previously cut open, and tied a white cloth around her mouth and eyes. Then he proceeded to draw a smile and a pair of eyes on the fabric. This was a powerful message of objectification. For me, it was like saying ‘Look at her, she is all mine. She will let me do anything to her. And I will execute this power.’ That really touched me. I rarely see such expressions of submission in rope performances, and at the same time, they are something that I really look for in kinbaku.

On top of everything, Soptik is an extremely skilled rigger. His moves were confident and fluent and each position that he put his model in was executed with great care and seemed simple, but was actually very complex. He was deliberate in creating shapes from EisEve body. And the shapes that he was creating were not always making his model beautiful. She was a material that he was forming according to his desires. And his desires were often to expose and objectify her. He ended the performance with a single point TK suspension, which was a very dramatic position, making the model resemble a hanged person. Another powerful message.

For me, the entire performance was comparable to that of Bingo, that I’ve seen in Paris, in terms of the intensity, skill and the qualities of kinbaku and D/s that it displayed. It left me extremely excited for the workshop.

The workshop

And the workshop didn’t disappoint. There was lots of pain and suffering, but most necessary, it was not without a reason. I think that the most important lesson that I have learned from it is that as a model you want to suffer in ropes for someone. If you see your rigger paying attention to you and enjoying what he is creating, it really makes it worthwhile to go through all the pain and discomfort.

Soptik kept repeating that for him every moment of the scene is important and that he wants to enjoy the model in his ropes as much as possible. Therefore, it is really crucial to pay attention to your model by learning how to minimize the amount of time that you look at your ropes when tying. You want to enjoy the model and the feelings that you evoke in her and for that, you need to pay attention to her, not the ropes that are on her body. They are just an object, they don’t have feelings. But your model does. And that is what you are after.

For me, it really does make a difference, because I treat my scenes as an emotional journey. I go through a spectrum of emotions when being tied and if the rigger does not appreciate them then I miss the point of doing it. I know that there are different reasons why people tie and this is not the only ultimate one, but it is for me. That’s why Soptik teaching resonated so much with me.

Another thing is that as a model, once I decide to tie with someone, I should be willing to suffer for them. That also means that I should try to overcome small nuisances, like a pinching rope, as long as they are not dangerous. In that way, I make sure that we can enjoy the scene and its flow with minimal disturbances. I learned that any time that I communicate to the rigger, I take us out of our headspace and we have to make a big effort afterwards to get back in. Therefore, it makes for a way better scene if I suffer through small discomforts, even unintentional, and only communicate things that I really important.

Finally, watching Soptik tie and interact with EisEve completely changed my views on D/s relationships. Throughout the workshop, he kept exposing and humiliating her, by for example casually exposing her breasts and crotch. Not for a moment though it made me think of her as weak or less a person than he is. (And that is how I usually feel when someone does something like that to me.) On the contrary, I thought that she is very strong and brave for being so vulnerable to him in front of us. I could also see how much she means to him and how much he appreciates her and I understood that even though there is a power imbalance in their relation, it does not mean that either of them is less valuable.

Some of you might say, ‘Duh...’, but for me, it was quite an eye-opener. So far, I’ve rather seen myself as showing weakness when expressing my submission to my boyfriend in front of other people. And now, when I saw how it might look from the outside, I don’t think of it as appearing weak anymore. I think that it is touching and beautiful. And both sides show strength by expressing it.

Our scene

As a culmination of this weekend, I experienced Soptik’s tying myself. And it was again both different and better than I expected. He asked me to tie because he really liked my expressions of suffering in ropes and I agreed because I could see that we have many common kinks and I expected that he would put me through an amazing journey. And he did.

I think that I have never experienced so much pain and humiliation at once given with so much intention and enjoyment. Especially by someone who I barely know. The way he was hurting me and the emotions that he was able to evoke in me by giving me pain made me re-evaluate how I see myself as a masochist. For a while now I have thought that I prefer emotional masochism over the physical one. And partially it is still true. Soptik made me realize what you can achieve when you combine the two. A mind-blowing experience.

I guess that there are not so many things that can make one as panicky and vulnerable as experiencing pain from which there is no escape. I am a masochist and I like pain, but only to a certain degree, and I am not even sure if my pain tolerance is that high. I can take quite a bit, but not without strong reactions and I only experience mild levels of very specific kinds of pain as pleasurable. The pain that he was giving me was definitely above my limits. But he overpowered me mentally and physically and made me feel like there is nowhere to go from it. He made me submit to the pain and to him and accept whatever he is giving to me. And that really changed my perception.

At some point, I started enjoying way more than I usually do. It seemed like because there was no escape, my mind decided that it is better for me to think that it is what I truly want. And then, for a submissive, there is something really special about letting someone torture your body and seeing them enjoying it. And he definitely was enjoying torturing me. It made me very confused because, on the one hand, I wanted the pain to stop, but on the other, you wanted to keep pleasing him. Also, he kept humiliating me. He twisted my body and exposed me. He tied my face and made me drool on myself and then smeared the saliva over my face. He slapped me and beat me and stepped on me. At some point, it turned me into a needy wimp and I just wanted him to be nice to me and caress me, but he kept only hurting and degrading me. That made me only more miserable and more submissive.

I was truly amazed by how much I can take from a complete stranger. He was my teacher for two days, I have seen him tie and we talked a bit, but there was not much more that I knew about him. I have always thought that degradation and humiliation are something that I can only do with someone that I have a deep relation with. But it turns out that it is not necessarily the case. I think that because I could see very clearly that it is something that he enjoys, I felt safe to enjoy it as well. To show my real self to him and let him take us on this journey.

At the same time, it was very different from what I experience with my partners that I have a deeper relationship with. I think that there was not so much emotional depth behind it and because of that, it was less (emotionally) dangerous. It was a very strong and pure D/s power exchange, but at the same time did not have the emotional loading of humiliation play that I have with my boyfriend for example. Having a deep relationship with someone definitely changes the angle of play, because he can hit you in more emotionally vulnerable places. And that requires way more aftercare that I felt like I need after this scene.

Here, I felt like a victim, first caught and overpowered and then slowly, by means of torture, turned into an obedient pet. It was really amazing and intense and at the same time very contained within the scene. I feel like rope is a great tool to create this kind of emotions. It makes you powerless and vulnerable and can cause a lot of pain. At the same time, it's not like cuffs or straps that only immobilize you. Your partner keeps on making you move, reminding you of the power that he has and at the same time putting you in a kind of trance. It's also very theatrical in a way which for me works great in putting my mind on an emotional journey. Since it is a non-verbal tool, the flow of energy is in a way purer and therefore might be stronger than when you use words, even though the exchange might be less intricate, as I feel like only more basic dynamics can be expressed without verbal communication. Still, you can achieve the intensity and experience emotional journey that is really special and hard to come across otherwise with such minimal tools.

My lessons

I can already see my boyfriend laughing at this one, but I think that I can safely say that this weekend was a life-changing experience for me. Or at least, it changed the way I look at many things.

First of all, I strengthened my conviction that what I am looking for and want to experience in rope is an intense D/s dynamic. I want to see suffering and submission. I want to see humiliation and eroticism. And finally, I want to see simplicity and beauty created by using the model as a canvas. And that is exactly what Soptik and EisEve showed in their performance.

Secondly, I’ve learned that the intention of both the rigger and the model can make or break the scene. On the rigger side, it is extremely important that he enjoys what he is doing to the model. And for that, he needs to pay attention to her. He should maximize the time that he looks and reads the model and minimize the time that his attention is on the rope. From the model side, she needs to have the intention to suffer for the rigger, to give herself to him for his enjoyment. That also means that she should try to not break the scene with every little pinch of rope on her skin. Sometimes it might be better to suffer through the discomfort, also unintentional, and see where the scene goes than to break the flow.

Thirdly, I learned to appreciate and respect the submissive role way more. I realized that it requires strength and vulnerability to be able to submit, but that the same goes for the dominant. Even though there is a power imbalance in a D/s relation, there is no value assigned to either of the sides. They are both equally strong and brave and beautiful. And there is something truly magnetic in observing a couple with a strong D/s dynamic. Like watching two elements both fighting and needing each other to exist.

Finally, I’ve learned that rope is a perfect tool for creating intense and complex D/s scenes, even between people who don’t know each other that well. You can degrade, scare, torture, humiliate, give and take hope, caress and evoke many more feelings, using only rope. At the same time, the dynamic is very contained within the context of the scene and the strong power exchange that you experience does not have to exist outside of it. This made me appreciate rope even more and it might have made me more open to tie with new people.

Thank you Soptik and EisEve for teaching me so much about rope, D/s and myself. It was a truly deep experience and I can’t wait to learn from you again.

If I am living a dream then why does it feel so much like a nightmare?

Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a dream...

Throughout my life, I have grown used to getting what I want. It's quite amazing to what length others will go to please you if most of the time it is you, who is pleasing them. Now, you might think that I was a spoiled child, but it wasn’t the case. Quite the opposite. I was, in fact, a very good girl. Good student, good daughter, a good girlfriend. I've been moulding myself into a person who is pleasing to others, in order to make sure that, when the time comes, they will please me. I'm not sure if I would call it manipulation, but I guess in its essence, that's what it was. Intricate and well disguised, but still a manipulation. And it really worked. Family, friends, teachers, partners, they were all under my spell. Because how can you say no to this cute, innocent girl who is trying so hard to make you proud? The problem was that I wasn't really happy in that setting. In the back of my head, I was dreaming of meeting someone who will see through my tricks. Back then, I wasn't fully aware of it, but now I am. And I see a couple of reasons why that was the case.

First of all, if I would meet a person who is stricter than I am, I could finally stop being so hard on myself. Most of my life lacked external discipline, therefore, I was providing it to myself from the inside. It worked and helped me achieve many goals, but it's not a very emotionally healthy trait to have. Usually, when I learn something, I try so hard to be the best that my teachers/people who raise me only praise me, since they think that I'm already hard enough on myself. Well, maybe… But actually, I think that I need a lot of stimulation and push and very little praise. And if you don't provide it to me, then I just disregard what you're saying altogether. If someone is too soft on me, then it must mean that their standards are lower than mine. Why should I then rely on their opinion when evaluating my performance? But if there was someone (let’s call him a Master) who is hard on me, and whose judgement I trust, I could finally relax, and just focus on doing the work, while leaving the evaluation to him.

Secondly, with a person who doesn't fall for my tricks, I could stop pretending and finally be myself. When you keep being praised and rewarded for how well you are doing, it is easy to fall into a trap of associating your value with what you hear from others. Additionally, you become anxious about its end. So you keep trying harder to please others, and you forget about yourself. When you meet someone who can see through that, and who can see you for who you are, flaws and all, you can finally let go and just be yourself. It is who they see anyway. You don’t need to second guess anymore what kind of person you should be for them to like you. They already know what kind of person you are. And they like you. It would be so liberating to stop trying to control how other people see me and just let them be.

Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.

So it looks like I finally found this person from my dreams. This person who can see through me, and doesn't fall for my cute looks, and an impression of a good girl. This person, who wants me to go further than that. To make mistakes and to grow. This person, who gives me challenges that are impossible to overcome, who bounds me to fail, only to show me that it's OK to be less than perfect, as long as I try hard enough. This person, who punishes me for every little mistake, with no room for excuses. Because it's OK to fail, but it doesn't mean that you shouldn't try harder the next time.

Finally, I've found this person, who doesn't give me what I want. No matter how much I beg, plead and curse. No matter how much of a good girl I am. No matter what I try to do to convince him to change his mind. He won't. Because he has all the power to execute his will. Because he has something that only he can give me, and he decides how and when it happens.

And it is heaven as much as it is hell. You see, when you are so dependent on one person to provide for your needs, it creates an entirely different level of suffering. The kind of suffering that you have no control over, and that lasts long after it was initiated. The kind of suffering, where you stop trusting yourself, because your mind will make you believe anything, to get what it needs. This suffering is not sudden and acute, like pain from a punch or from being called worthless. It's a process. A process of being taught a lesson. A process of adjusting to a new situation. A process of a painful realization, that not everything in your life you have control over, and sometimes you have to patiently wait for the things that you value.

It's a difficult experience, but at the same time, it's beautiful and exciting. It feels like this dynamic might teach me something way more valuable than only exploring my sexuality. It feels like it has the potential to change me and make me more at peace with myself and life in general. It already made me realize that sometimes, the things that you have no control over, are the most beautiful and rewarding. And even though there is nothing you can do to get them, you can help yourself, and stop chasing a dream (or a nightmare) living in your head, and start being present and appreciative of what you have and the people around you. Otherwise, you might miss what you so much wanted. And I so don’t want to miss it!