Originally Published 2/26/2016
There may be a few switches out there in my audience, but I’d venture to guess that the majority of you are accustomed to being at the feet over powerful dominants. That sweet, sweet submission – it’s a high I’ve also chased. Over the years that my more sadistic tendencies have surfaced I’ve found vast differences in the mental space my brain goes to.
In submission our brains are clear, focused only on the physical punishment or pleasure we’re receiving. In dominance, I’m purely focused on my submissive or bottom, reading everything I can from their moans, cries, and pleading. What’s just to the line? What’s just over it? What would be too far? It’s such a careful balancing act, and god does it get me off!
I used to swim competitively, and I would swim two miles every day – that’s 66 laps. Every day I would get into the pool knowing where I had to get to, but not necessarily how I would get there. Usually, around lap 20 I would feel a quieting of all of those annoying reminder voices (Midori calls them “brain squirrels”), and begin to focus entirely on the psycho-physical sensations of what I was doing in that moment. It was the purest freedom I’d ever experienced.
Being completely in control of another human being is not that different. There’s nothing outside of that room that requires my attention more than what I’m doing at that moment. Seeking out and eliciting the response I want is all that matters, and it’s in that space that my mind is clear, that I am free.
That’s the beauty of BDSM, people coming together working to bring about freedom for the others. Facilitating incredible suffering tickles a deep sadistic bone in my body, and frequently results in my maniacal laughter, but it’s the freedom that brings me back again and again.