Sometimes I need emotional help | Ruminating on reasons for a power-based relationship
“Oh, I get it,” I said as I shot up in bed at 1AM. I had been tossing and turning things over and over in my head as usual. “I see the benefit of a D/s relationship in life, not just in the bedroom.”
I had been bummed that I had made the (right) choice to not go to my favorite place because I knew I wasn’t ready yet, and the triggers would abound. I got word of the activity - breasts on display! And the shame hit. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Madonna and the whore, the eternal fight of my life. “Why am I in this world?” I had lamented earlier. “I’m too vanilla for this. Too freaky for the real world.”
As I thought through another scenario of what could have happened if I had gone, alone, facing people that now felt threatening, and I envisioned how my little child would act, and how it felt they would be so satisfied at taunting her, because she hurt them. Or ignoring her, because of their own triggers, because they truly don’t care, knowing she, the child, thrives on attention. I could finally understand a real benefit of a D/s relationship and how it could “help” in these situations. Even if it feels like it goes against all social conventions and that I, a professional, intelligent human who identifies as a woman “shouldn’t” need.
Let me back up. You see, I read, a lot. It’s how I experienced the world for a long time. I now go out and actually experience more, but I still find comfort in reading. For I long to understand how other people function, and why they may do what they do. Reading has always offered me an insight into someone else’s brain. Perhaps I was looking for the secret manual of social convention that everyone else just seemed to “know”.
I mention this because it was an erotic story a few years ago that really launched my interest into thinking BDSM and D/s relationships could be something that I would be interested in. And in this story, there was a pair of side characters, not crucial to the plot per se, but they caught my attention the most. (It’s a long story for erotica, perhaps the best ones are?) But this pair was a committed D/s (het) man/woman. And, I found resonance with the (female) sub, and I thought, if this could be a real Dom, perhaps, maybe, I could benefit from a partnership like that.
But my actual experience in D/s so far has felt like men trying to control me. And I feel uncontrollable. Because trust is hard for me. Because I’ve been bullied by power and control for a long time, except covertly. Because I go non-verbal in sex and I know how vulnerable that makes me, so I’ve learned to be aggressive, at probably the wrong times. But also, because I’m a (mostly) capable human being, and shouldn’t I be able to do this all on my own?
I thought back to this story now, specifically this part:
“Petra was busy pacing back and forth, fretting about her best friend. Diego let her be, hoping that she'd tire herself out and come and sit, but instead, she seemed to be getting more anxious. He stood up, intersected her path and before she could anticipate his actions, picked her up and tossed her onto his shoulder. She gave a startled squeak as her world turned upside down, giving her a perfect view of her Master's kilted backside.
"Uhm, not that I'm complaining about the view, Master, but what are you doing?" She stretched her arm down and gave Diego a friendly pat on his butt.
In return, Diego flipped the skirt of her dress up, exposing her naked ass and gave her a hard swat.
Petra yelped and thumped his back with angry fists. "What the hell, Master?"
He kept silent, marching her through the bar until they reached a seating area composed of partially secluded sofas. Petra found herself dumped unceremoniously onto one of the plush sofas, with Diego glaring down at her.
"Sit and stay. You will wait patiently until I give you permission to get up. Nod if you understand?" He smiled as Petra meekly nodded, her eyes downcast but fuming at him.
"Good girl," he said with a gentle pat on her head. He could see the way his little submissive bit down on her lower lip in an attempt to keep her mouth shut and his cock hardened at the display of defiance. As much as her bratty side tried his patience at times, it never ceased to turn him on. He gazed upon the top of her blonde curls fondly, his chest tight with the love he felt for her.
He pulled his cellphone out from the leather sporran that hung from his waist and was just about to dial Marcus' number when he caught sight of the man in question weaving through the crowd towards him. Petra followed Diego's line of sight and almost jumped to her feet once she spied whom he'd seen. A sharp glare from her Master kept her rooted to the sofa, but not before she returned the dirty look with a huff, expressing her displeasure.
"Hey," Diego greeted Marcus, clasping hands with him. "Did you find her in time?"
Marcus nodded. "Yes, that's what I came to tell you."
"Where is she?"
"Cooper's taking her up to my office. She fainted while we were talking in the parkcade."
Diego sensed Petra's agitation and reached out a hand, catching her mid-way to her feet. "Did I give you permission to get up, Petra?" he growled at her.
"Master..." she whined.
"Answer my question, pet."
Her head dropped and she sunk back down onto the cushion. "No Master."
"That's what I thought, yet you chose to defy me anyway."
"I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me," she begged softly, looking up at him with eyes shining with unshed tears.
Diego wasn't trying to be an asshole; he knew from experience that Petra didn't handle stress well, especially when people she loved where involved, often letting her overactive emotions get the better of her judgement. He could see the worry for Tabby and her own guilt at her part in keeping Marcus and Cooper's secret, pushing her into a spiral that would have ultimately resulted in an emotional meltdown if he hadn't stepped in and taken control. By keeping her seated and firmly in her submissive headspace, it refocused all the volatile energy onto him, calming her impulsive tendency towards chaotic behavior.
"I know you are worried, little one, but panic isn't going to help this situation is it?" he asked gently.
She shook her head and wiped at her damp eyes. "No, Master."
Marcus spoke up, needing to relay his information so that he could hurry back to his angel. "She's fine, Petra. I think she just got overwhelmed. Cooper's looking after her and I'm going to take her some food and water to help her recover."
Petra glanced at her Master, silently asking for permission to speak. Diego smiled and nodded.”
You see, in my head, the scenarios I was playing out, ones in the public spaces with people who now felt threatening, were ones in which my inner child would take over. She would throw violence - use that intelligence to hit the emotional weaknesses she senses in the other person. Sometimes, in these fantasies, she would even resort to actual violence, a way to act out that anger.
But in the real world, none of that is acceptable behavior. And anger is an emotion that is not suitable for women. In reality, it’s not suitable for anyone, but men seem to be taught it is the only emotion they are allowed. I can empathize with the struggle to conceal it, for I conceal it too. My inner core of fire rears her head - in the bedroom it is an asset, that passion can be insatiable. In life, I have burned myself and incinerated relationships of all kinds with that fire, though it has also saved me too.
How does one incorporate these big emotions into real life? Could I turn to a trusted individual, a primary partner and say “help” in those moments? I am so grateful that some platonic friends stepped up and gently took away passwords, took away choices, so that I didn’t flame out right now online. Is that what happens in a committed D/s relationship?
In the bedroom, I know the roles of D/s allow for that kind of play. Having safewords lets me push my boundaries and get my need for violence met. But what happens when my need to please overrides my ability to give within limits? To use the idiom: “When my mouth is making checks that my ass can’t cash.”
Oh, I get such a little shiver from using words like that. I don’t normally allow language that crass into my writing. Or the smut above. The thrill of the words used to describe those erotic reactions reserved for my most intimate moments. Even then, I am not usually able to say them, trapped in my non-verbal world of feeling, I can only giggle and go big-eyed with wonder. What will those words mean will happen when heard in real life? There is a little inside dying to find out, but also, she’s terrified of the consequences if it goes wrong in an unsafe way.
You see, she - I - was taught to be a lady. Ladies don’t do - or say - things like that. And boys don’t like smart girls. Ladies keep their mouths - and legs - shut.
Ladies do NOT have much fun it would seem. But I internalized it far more than I knew. For ladies get good jobs and have a good life.
I’m still not the one for taking my shirt off in “public” kink spaces unless I am told to do so, and even then I revolt. I still judge the ones that do inside my head, but my heart envies their freedom and the responses they get.
And sex was always a game of repression and shame and a means to an end - with the ultimate ladies' goal of marriage. In the vanilla world, I got hurt when I tried to push my own boundaries. So I didn’t.
Except, in my mind, I kept returning to, what if sex could be fun?
Dirty and smelly and without shame? A wrestling match without clothes?
Bodies allowed to do what bodies do? Fluids and noises and laughter and pain. And emotions allowed to spill out in safe containers between two people.
I know it’s possible. I have now experienced a few different versions of it, but like Goldilocks, it’s been just not “right”.
And, my inner child would rather be in the void than settle sexually, even in this kink world, it would seem.
But, perhaps, all of this is so that I can refine my heart’s vocabulary and gain a better understanding of the ways I could see the benefit of D/s in different settings. Of course, at the moment, in real life, knowing it depends on the needs and wants of the other person too.
But, perhaps, in return for the “help” I need emotionally, I could harness my eagerness to please, my enthusiasm to play in safe ways. To be in service back in that space between two people, but in a relationship where all needs, including my needs for safety, honesty, trust, and a little tough emotional love - and forced space - are met too.
Not just “control”.
But a kaleidoscope of passion - sexual, emotional, intellectual, violent, and tender - to draw out the big emotions in safe ways so the little girl can grow up and evolve in conjunction with all of the work I am doing internally and with professionals.
Not to use a relationship to heal (though I think the possibility does exist), but instead to trust that it won’t cause any more damage.
That she is more important than any we.
That I am something to be earned as much as the other person.
That no pedestals should exist, but equal footing of respect and mutual communication. As well as constant (over) analysis of the steps in this dance of this strange hobby we all share of experiencing sex in a non-traditional way.
And how it highlights the emotions and hidden parts of our psyche in real and tangibles manners. And there is no way to anticipate how it will show up, whether it’s new or something you have been practicing for many years. But it feels key to take this shame out of it, out of all of it.
And, if one person has the ability to wall off the emotions and one person does not, perhaps that is an opportunity for both to help the other. And, if the work they are both doing internally and on their own succeeds, perhaps they will need less help from each other.
And that feels like another part of D/s and power-based control that I haven’t reconciled yet - or at least experienced.
For what is healing if not change?
If it all works, if the emotions are eventually managed to be regulated more, is the other person able to accept that the level of “need” changes?
I heard D/s described as “prenegotiated codependency” and YES! My whole body agreed with that sentiment. But isn’t the goal in life and relationships to NOT be codependent? Isn’t this the ideal outcome:
“...become aware of patterns of codependency birthed from deep fear of abandonment and rejection. I’ve learned to soothe those fears by being present for myself, attending to my needs, and by building structures, personally and professionally, that support my passions and values.
I used to give my energy away. I didn’t value it. I didn’t know, short of screaming or throwing punches, how to protect myself. I often felt guilty for saying no and in many situations I too often and too easily acquiesced.
In the last few years, I have begun a practice of radical accountability. No, I am not at fault for what happens (or happened to me) but I am fully responsible for what I do going forward.
Accountability is powerful. It means we hold ourselves (and others) to the consequences of actions. No, we cannot force another person to take accountability for their behavior, but we can let them know the impact that it has, and then take the actions necessary for ourselves to feel that we are safe and in integrity with our own standards.
Practicing accountability requires honesty, bravery, boundaries, and vulnerability.”
I want that too. I want to hold my own patterns of emotional dysregulation and formulate accountability. But how can I build my own AND see the benefit of “help” in the form of a D/s relationship?
Is the paradox of D/s to lessen the need for help from the other person as things evolve? As love deepens and trust is granted?
If ego is involved on the top side in the “need” for the “help”, does the control get tighter?
Because that feels like an impending noose to one who knows she could benefit from assistance now, can see the value of it, and yet has crashed and burned and is accruing more scars. More reasons for her inner child to fight like hell in the violent way she loves, but in a way that is not good for anyone.
So, for now, I’m back to intellectual musings only. Grateful for clarity, and curious about what the universe has to offer next, all while trying to stay unattached to the outcome.
Photo by Warm Orange on Unsplash