Submission caters to my Virgo love of control and precision. Submission fulfills me, in the eroticism of lists and charts, in the satisfaction of completing a task. Submission penetrates me deeply with the pleasure of rules to obey and jobs well done. Submission is falling into a Zen space of control: constructing my being as an instrument of use and pleasure, allowing energy to flow through me, reprogramming the fibers of my being to reflect the desires of my dominant. Submission is instinctively serving my dominant, without effort, without being noticed or drawing attention. It’s all about the details and serving another, not indulging in one’s own sexual impulses. It’s a delicious mix of cerebral and visceral sexuality, of control and instinct, of pleasure and selflessness.
To submit to my dominant is to serve my dominant, to pleasure him, to obey protocol, and to serve as a useful tool in the completion of tasks. Submitting is making his life and household run more smoothly as well as providing entertainment and pleasure. When I submit to my dominant, I serve his erotic desires and fulfill mine; in practice, it might be as simple as walking behind my dominant and to his right side, fetching tea and preparing it the way he likes it, and never allowing his water glass to become less than half full at dinner. Or it could manifest as standing or kneeling rather than using a chair at dinner, a party, or on the subway. These small acts of submission enveloped in our day-to-day activities can fill my being with erotic energy and a sense of connectedness and commitment to each other.
In our D/s relationship, we have a contract and basic protocol rules. We have different levels of protocol: basic everyday protocol, high protocol, and, if need be, levels in between. One rule in our agreement states: “I will not use furniture, unless my dominant has given me permission or if abiding by this rule would inconvenience or make others around me uncomfortable.” (I would not stand or kneel at a restaurant or cafe if I was there without my dominant or at a meeting where it would be inappropriate.) The rules in our contract help form the structure of our D/s relationship, and its creation is entirely unique to us. We understand that agreements can change based on the individuals’ needs, which change over time, and we allow time on a regular basis to review our agreement to see what is working for each of us and what isn’t. If something isn’t working, we change it.
Sometimes, our D/s is incorporated into sex. I recall sitting at dinner at a four-star restaurant with my Sir. He ordered dessert for us, and as the waitress left the table he handed me a vibrator.
“Take this and get yourself off before our desert arrives, slut.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I took the vibrator underneath the white tablecloth, under my dress, and up my slit, until it rested next to my clit. The buzzing vibrator was barely audible over the espresso machine in the back. I worked my way up to climax and quietly asked, “Sir, may I come?”
“Yes, you may come.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Other times, D/s manifests when my Sir enforces an order, like denying me orgasms. I remember one business trip where I would be in Detroit for a week, and my Dominant ordered me not to masturbate during the trip. I was so incredibly turned on by the fact that I wasn’t allowed to touch myself that I nearly came simply by the denial of my masturbation privilege.
If my Dominant and I are engaging in sadomasochism, I usually find myself in the role of a sensation-hungry lover or the submissive. If we are playing in an SM dynamic as lovers, I’m permitted to make eye contact. With each strike, we breathe together. It can be brutal and bloody, orgasmic and intimate all at the same time. If we’re engaged in SM in a D/s protocol, I will not make eye contact and simply accept the energy of a whip or cane and allow it to flow through me without releasing moans of pleasure. I am only permitted to verbalize gratitude and respect, unless I am granted permission to come. In my role as a submissive, it’s important for me to keep composure and always do my best to serve the needs of my Dominant, according to the terms of our D/s agreement, above my own impulses.
I was once performing in an on-camera scene with my Dominant and another woman. Her punishment for some indiscretion, which I now can’t remember, was for her to watch as I took her caning for her. I knelt before my love, face forward, eyes focused ahead, arms behind my back, and took each strike with complete composure, only releasing breath and uttering a gracious “One. Thank you, Sir. Two. Thank you, Sir,” until we reached 20 strikes. The girl stared at me crying and baffled by what she had just seen; she was puzzled to witness my intense composure to such a severe whipping and the deep level of submission I demonstrated.
In my relationship with my Dominant, he is my primary partner. But during the nearly six years of our relationship, I have petitioned for sexual and kinky relationships outside our own with agreed-upon partners. I once petitioned to be lent to a queer couple, a femme and a trans guy, for submissive service including domestic chores. The femme was the alpha Dominant in the relationship (both were dominant over me, but the femme Dominant was at the top of our hierarchy). After a decadent dinner in which I followed high-protocol standards (only speaking when spoken to, fetching jackets, pulling out chairs, opening the door) and serviced the couple sexually, I was ordered to the kitchen. A huge pile of dishes sat in the sink.
The two sat down at the kitchen table, postsex and orgasm, a bit disheveled, sipping on tea in their boxers, lingerie, and robes.
“Get to work, slut,” Mistress ordered.
Naked and exhilarated in my submissive state, I got to work on the filthy dishes.
Mistress looked up drowsily from her tea and gifted me with her praise. “Such a good little submissive, slut. You are doing such a good job at those dishes. Jay, go get my whip.”
The grace and dignity with which a submissive accepts a punishment is just as important as the manner in which you conduct yourself in daily service.
Her partner returned with her whip and Mistress whipped my flesh, which was already marked from what had preceded in the bedroom that evening. As Mistress welted my skin with her whip, her fingers teasing my cunt every so often between strikes, and her partner sat at the kitchen table sipping his tea with a devilish grin, I felt absolute euphoric bliss in my service. It was one of those moments of clarity in which I feel that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, full of purpose and with an internal stillness that exists only in absolute surrender.
Submission is a gift of full surrender to another person. It’s the removal of ego and self-indulgence. When I engage in a heavy D/s scene, I picture myself as a hollow cane of bamboo: I allow energy to flow through me, keeping complete focus and attention to my surroundings on my Dominant, without drawing attention to myself. It requires being aware of the rhythm of life around me, life in my scene, and how I play into that rhythm, that cacophony of sound. For example, the sound of a key in the door cues me to remove my panties and kneel into slave position with arms folded behind my back. The sound of the shower’s running water instinctively starts me calculating how long that sound will last before Sir exits the shower and I enter with a fresh folded towel. The sound of the whistling kettle activates my anticipation to prepare Sir’s tea. The whistling kettle, the shower water, and the key in the door are just as kinky to my auditory senses as the sound of the flogger coming into impact with my grateful flesh, the whisk of a cane, the yelp of other submissives, and the cries of orgasmic pleasure that surround us in public dungeons. It is humbling to serve, to give in, without ego, mindful and focused.
But as submissives, we are human. We will make mistakes, and if we choose to disobey or act in a disrespectful manner, we will be punished. The grace and dignity with which a submissive accepts a punishment is just as important as the manner in which you conduct yourself in daily service. It may be even more important.
I remember one instance when I allowed my emotions to get the better of me during a D/s scene with my Sir. Sir told me that because of a production schedule, he would have to work late on our anniversary, which was in a few weeks. This
personal matter affected me as my Sir’s lover, not as his submissive. I ran off from the scene in a huff and committed a cardinal sin in D/s: I took off my own collar. The collar is a symbol of dedication to our D/s relationship as well as a symbol of honor and respect reflecting my commitment to the BDSM community. In losing my composure and removing my collar, I was not only disrespecting my Sir but also acting as a disgrace to our community. Therefore my Sir decided that my punishment needed to be a public penance.
I treaded behind Sir in shame. I wished I could disappear and was thankful for the inviting darkness that the blindfold brought. I was led downstairs to a dungeon and placed on a suspended table; it was disorienting and difficult to balance on it without my sight. On all fours, presenting my ass, I awaited my punishment—rope biting around my chest, under my arms, pressed up against my rib cage, attempting to take over my breath and lead me into submission.
I felt floggers, paddles, hands, straps, belts, clamps, clothespins, and mouths. I gently cooed, “Thank you, Sir” and “Thank you, Ma’am.” I heard later that a line had formed; everyone wanted their turn. I changed positions, presenting my chest, my pussy, rotating to give onlookers a better view. I stood in difficult stress positions, squatting, balancing—all blindfolded. My head was spinning, chasing after the texture of voices in the room. I heard people negotiating with Sir. As he handed me over to the next participant, one politely asked me, “Could I go harder?”
“If it pleases you, Sir.”
Another said, “You seem like such a good girl. What could you possibly have done to deserve this punishment?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
I followed the words like light, like butterflies. I let the sensation wipe through me at the hands of seasoned leathermen and Dominants and newbies who were shy and nervous. You would have thought they were the ones under the whip.
I could feel a community around me—young and old, SMers, experimenters, and swingers. Each with a different stroke, a different touch. I was polite and grateful to them for taking part in my punishment.
Sir approached, whispering in my ear. “Just one more and I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
This swing was familiar. The cane struck my ass. I could feel the area of my flesh start to harden after repeated impact, and I could tell my skin had already started to bruise from hours of punishment. But I welcomed this touch. His touch.
“Count and show me you’re sorry,” he said.
“One. I’m sorry, Sir. Please, Sir, forgive me.”
“Two. Sir, I’m so very sorry, Sir, I will be more mindful of my behavior, Sir.”
“Three. Sir, I’m sorry, Sir. I will only show the greatest of respect to us and our protocol, Sir.”
I felt tired and broken. Worn down but at the same time fulfilled. I felt an unselfish pleasure from a job well done.
“You did good tonight, Maddie. I’m very proud of you. You made a lot of people very happy.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Sex-positive feminism embraces the entire range of human sexuality and is based on the idea that sexual freedom is an essential component of women’s freedom. BDSM is based on power and sensation play with a strong emphasis on communication and consent. I validate my own desires through the act of submission while simultaneously taking control of and embracing my sexuality. I have had to fight for my sexuality and identity, and I educate others around me about it. My personal has always been political. The aggressiveness with which I embrace my queer identity has translated to aggressiveness in claiming my submission.
Why is it fascinating and stimulating to engage in power exchange? We are breaking the rules. As queers, feminists, kinky persons, and sexual outlaws, we have always broken the rules. We go outside designated sexual norms as we search for connection, community, and fulfillment in our sexual lives and identities. Our sexual selves were not handed to us—we had to create them. We disassemble traditional power structures put in place by social norms only to reassemble them to use as our own sex toys.
Submissives are often strong and powerful women and men who wish to set aside or give their power to another person. Submissives are willing to make themselves vulnerable and open to experiences. We serve and give something back to both our community and to the one(s) we serve. Our service and education can result in both personal growth and community development. We submit to better the lives of others and, in doing so, our submission enriches our own lives.
In a fantasy world, Sir and I would exist 24/7 in an erotically charged nonstop BDSM scene. But this is reality—and thank goodness it is! It would be boring and not nearly as special to me if submission were a constant. It is difficult to fully appreciate the calm without a healthy amount of chaos. Besides, Sir and I lead very hectic lives, and between work and our newborn baby girl, it’s not possible for us to constantly maintain that dynamic of our relationship on a 24/7 basis. Instead we plan scenes or play dates. Or we find ways to work our D/s dynamic into our everyday lives. I welcome those moments like a breath of fresh air between diaper changes, breast-feedings, sexuality workshops, and business meetings. After six years together, my partner and I have found what works for us. And this is what works for us. We are able to be loving partners to each other, passionate lovers, cuddle buddies, and coparents to our daughter, all as we engage in a Dominant/submissive scene.
Sometimes it’s just for a moment, something as simple as Sir pulling my hair and bringing me to my knees before he leans down, kisses me on the crown of my head, and whispers, “I love you, slut.” Or me saying, “I love you, Sir” before we head out to work. Sometimes that is all the time we have. But it only takes a moment. It’s a subtle shift of power, an opening of my being, slipping into that quiet stillness of perfection and tranquillity. It’s a state of Zen submission.
The space I go to when I’m in a position of submission is a meditative state. When painting or writing, I find myself going into a similar state. I have to step out of the way to give in to the creative energy. It’s a state of pure connection, complete focus, and the clarity discovered in letting go. I find it by riding waves of energy that flow through me with each impact from a heavy flogger or sting of a singletail. I find it in the precision and mindfulness with which I complete a task for my Sir. To sink into subspace, I allow my day, my life, my identity outside that moment, outside that scene, to slip into the background, and I offer myself as a vessel for the energy exchange between me and my Dominant.
CHAPTER 15
ENHANCING MASOCHISM: HOW TO EXPAND LIMITS AND INCREASE DESIRE
PATRICK CALIFIA
It was the third SM play party I had ever attended. Since I was one of the organizers, it was up to me (and my cohost) to get things started, even though I was barely more experienced at group sex than most of the guests. That lovely lady (let’s call her Fanny) was gracious enough to let me drag her into the center of the room and tie her up on all fours. She was a slender redhead with Celtic knots tattooed on her shoulders. The brightly entwined lines morphed into plants and fantastical animals as the design spilled onto her upper arms. She had long, very curly red hair, so she looked like a Raphaelesque angel you had divested of its robe and got ass-up and begging for cock. Like magic, as soon as we took off some of our clothes, everybody else formed couples and triads and got out their toys.
Fanny really, really, really wanted me to put my biggest strap-on in her ass. I did preliminary play with my fingers, an ass plug, and my second-biggest dildo. I massaged her, talked dirty to her, slipped lube into her butt, and played with her nipples. But her ass would only open so far. We had reached a plateau.
My pervy little angel was whispering something. Given the volume of the music and other players, the only thing I could hear was “Please, Sir.” I leaned forward, but I couldn’t get close enough to her head to decipher the whole message while I was manipulating a slender vibrator in her butt.
“Speak up!�
� I finally roared, letting a little of my frustration show in my voice.
“Get my belt!” she shouted, matching my volume. Apparently she was feeling a bit more frustrated than I was.
A passerby was kind enough to find her jeans and tug her simple leather belt out of the loops. I put down the vibes and plugs and dildos and picked up the supple length of that ordinary article of clothing. Suddenly it seemed vested with power and fear, an implement that might help us cross the line into a new realm of experience. I doubled it up and smacked her with it, drawing a broad red stripe across her pale, shapely ass, increasing the force until she was shuddering and dragging on the ropes. She had told me that she liked pain, but I didn’t really get it until I saw her clawing at the leather tabletop, having what looked and sounded like an orgasm.
After that, we had no trouble getting my fat, 10-inch cock into her ass. She was as relaxed as could be. And if she did begin to tense up, all I had to do was trail the belt down her buttocks, pressing gently on her welts, to make her sigh and melt into me. It was a grand fuck, one of my first experiences with combining pain and pleasure, doing a scene that looked vanilla but most certainly was not.
Would this technique work with anybody? No. You have to start with at least some of the hardwiring for masochism. If you do have that hardwiring, should you be expected to stand up and get bull-whipped for an hour, with no warm-up, to entertain a crowd at a leather community fund-raiser for breast cancer? Only if you are an exceptionally heavy player and such an exhibitionist that nothing matters but the spectators. But can you perhaps learn to take a bit more, and then a bit more, to please a lover and yourself? Yes.
The Ultimate Guide to Kink Page 24
