It’s been almost 15 years since I shyly asked the guy I was dating if we could try spanking (Coincidentally, this is also when I learned that if you add “it would really turn me on” to any request, guys will respond in the affirmative.)
Some of those things were scarier than others, but the absolute scariest moment I’ve had wasn’t listed above. It involved me standing with a flogger in my hand looking down at my boyfriend’s back that was solid red and his sides which had these gorgeous red lines where the flogger had wrapped a bit. He’d taken his glasses off which somehow made him look vulnerable. I can still picture him clearly in my mind and usually experience the same intense arousal I did that night. And that arousal? Scared the shit out of me.
I know, dear readers, that most of you don’t know me in real life and that me saying “I’m a nice person” is not going to be that convincing, but it’s true. I’m the person that will walk over to people in parking lots that are having car trouble and offer to let them use my battery and jumper cables as long as they’re the ones connecting them (I technically know how, but I have an irrational fear of jumper cables.)
So how do I reconcile that person with the woman who looked down at her loved one’s injuries and wanted to respond by flipping him over, crawling on him, and fucking him hard?
Since I got that first spanking, I’ve reassured partners over the years: It’s ok, I like pain. It’s ok, when you scare me like this, it’s like being on a roller coaster – it’s a good, fun scare. It’s ok if you like it too. Yet here I was. Upset not so much that I’d hurt him, but that I’d actively enjoyed it.
Because over-thinking things is how I get my kicks I tried to figure out why I’d liked it so much before I started analyzing why I was freaked out.
In the kink community we talk about power exchange a lot. I’ve certainly enjoyed the feeling of temporarily giving up control to a trusted partner before. Yet, I’d never realized that it would be such a power trip when I got someone else’s. He was letting me do whatever I wanted to him. He’s taller than me, even when I’m wearing heels, and he’s stronger, but he let me not only see him vulnerable he let me make him that way. He’s not lowering his walls; he’s saying “Here’s a wrecking ball – have at ‘em.” That, my friends, is pretty intense.
So why is it scary? I think I was honestly worried that I wouldn’t be able to stop. That I’d get this power trip and would concentrate so much on causing pain that I’d stop caring about his needs and wants in the scene (and after the scene too). I was afraid that I’d just sampled a new drug and became instantly addicted. Worst of all, I was worried that this meant I was one step away from being abusive.
Fortunately, once I was able to figure out what was scary I was able to combat it. A week or so after the initial encounter I asked if he wanted to play again, and he said he wasn’t really in a masochistic head space, and I said “ok” and meant it. We had vanilla sex that evening which I enjoyed thoroughly. Apparently I was quite capable of wanting to do this, not being able to and handling the rejection well, and still capable of enjoying sex that didn’t involve him being afraid of me. No attempts to persuade him to change his mind. Yay, I thought, I’m acting the way I like Doms to act with me.
Later he asked to play again and we did. I noticed, at one point, in between biting him hard enough to leave marks that he’d have a few days, his head was getting pushed into the headboard. I promptly stuck my hand between them so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Even in full on “hurt the boyfriend” mode I was still thinking about his physical well-being. Or maybe I’m just the type of sadist that only wants him to be in pain if its caused directly by me.