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30 Days Of Submission: Day 29 – BDSM In The Relationship

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This post was specifically picked for today by Matt. Thankyou Daddy for the inspiration xx

Is pain or humiliation (spankings for example) a part of your submission? What is your relationship to it? Do you embrace it as a part of your submission, tolerate it as necessary or have some other type of relationship with it?

Hmm… I would say that pain and humiliation are an aside to my submission, not a part of it. Saying that they are a part of it makes it sounds as though I consent to them happening to me as a part of my submission, but wouldn’t choose them for myself otherwise; this is wrong. I’ve played with people that I’ve never submitted to, and I have submitted to people that I have never played with. Both combined are absolutely great, but not always necessary.

Lately I’ve identified a lot more as a SAM, or a Smart-Assed Masochist. I can be incredibly witty and I enjoy pain, particularly stress positions or endurance, which put a strain on my body. I like knowing what my body can take, though as a sexual assault survivor, I don’t enjoy sexual pain. I’ve giggled my way through a sound spanking on more than one occasion, resulting in hysterical laughing when asked “why are you laughing?” (I didn’t know, I still don’t!). I like to suffer because feeling and catharsis is my antidote to stress. When I’m feeling in the moment, I’m unable to focus on anything else and I particularly enjoy sensation play for this. When I’m fighting being tortured, I get out the anger and stress of the day and I have been known to break down in tears because of something that has surfaced, that was bugging me up until that point. Matt is very good here though, and he will stop, check in and allow me to centre myself before he carries on.

I suppose in a way, my relationship with pain also comes from a life of being told that there were things that I couldn’t do, and would never do. Pain for me is defiance, it’s like the proverbial “fuck you, this is me proving that I can do”. The more I endure, the more I am worthy. I get a satisfaction from knowing those who have hurt me or doubted me are surprised by what I can take, consensually or otherwise. Sometimes I’ll even push myself, just to prove me to myself. Sometimes I don’t need to be encouraged, I need to be stopped. Luckily I have a knowledgable and caring live-in partner who will decide when to stop me.

Second to that, then enduring pain for me is kind of like proving my womanhood. I remember one occasion in which Matt’s Dad told him to be careful with me, and I remember looking at him like “please don’t”. I can’t stand the idea that wonen are supposed to be treated like delicate little flowers, I used to play fight with my younger brother and I’m not about to stop now. If everyone is agreed, the space is safe and the rules have been set, then do whatever you want. Life is for living!

When it comes to humiliation then, well, I love that too. I love objectification and degradation because they allow me to give up control and sometimes even use my negotiation prowess to find my way out, however that might be. As the owner and author of my blog and the runner of our home, degradation and humiliation take me to a place where I’m not in control anymore, and that’s incredibly liberating for me. In fact, even just thinking about that space is enough to take me off to that sleepy, peaceful little bubble… and now I must go for a nap!

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