Get me out of this trap! I advocate and plea for my safety and release from someone else’s fantasy. It is the creation of real life porn, even closer than your fingertips. It is made in the living room or on the basement floor with an audience consisting of his closest friends. The initiation. And it’s okay because this is acting. The ease that I feel while submitting is a complete wash of my conscious and able mind. Yet, I know there is pleasure in the practice of obedience and dedication.
And while it’s happening, I am flooded with terminologies and concepts learned in my sociology and psychology classes on what it means to be masculine or feminine. A separation of dominance and freedom. A silent contract that binds me to please him on command. So I practice the art of submission for the safety and security he says he can provide to me. His safety and security exists by my devout nature. I am a slave to desire.
And I have to ask myself, why does a woman wish to be slapped in the face and called ‘nasty bitch’ or ‘dirty slut’ during sex? And, why do I ascribe a man with titles such as ‘Daddy’, ‘King’ or ‘Master’? Why is my body meant for sacrifice? Why would a woman sell her right to her own freedom for a man to convolute a sexual fantasy with his idea of ownership? I felt the act of submission would make him love me more. He would be able to see how much I loved him and honored his manhood by the means of me relinquishing my will to him. I am turned on by being degraded. By being defiled. I am turned on by being what he needs me to be. If he said, “We have company tonight,” I would be what he needed me to be.
So, why the submission? Why do I relinquish my ability, power, and control? Because being submissive is the only way to learn the desperation of desire in its true infinity and depth. The only true way to understand the pleasures of pain, sacrifice, and obedience.
I want to be freed.