This post was originally written and posted on Fetlife in 2015. I link to it in an essay I have written and will be posting today as well, so I am republishing this one here for reference.
I want you to understand how submission feels to me. To explain it, I have to tell you why I imagine you want to hurt me.
You want power.
It’s not enough for me to open my mouth or spread my legs for you. You know as well as I do that these things feel good to me. I want you inside me. My body betrays the lie that society or religion or our mothers want us to believe with its warmth and wetness at the thought of you.
In this, my body and mind work in tandem. Wanting. Willing.
Your power – your control over me, wouldn’t come from the penetration of my body but from the denial of it.
Do you sacrifice the pleasure of your flesh for the frisson of your power?
Sometimes you do and that’s enough.
But my body cannot lie when you strike me. It recoils. It shivers and squirms and my flesh reddens in protest.
With each strike, I’m proving my submission to you. First with mind tricks – transforming that pain into feelings of pleasure and enjoyment.
You don’t want my pleasure. That’s not power.
You want my suffering. You want undeniable proof that you are in control.
The strikes bear down harder.
My moans become grunts. Growls. My arching back becomes hunched shoulders.
My mind overrides my body’s demands. For you.
Push me to my limits if that is what it takes to fill your thirst for power. I want this for you. I want you to feel, to understand, to take this control over me.
My body isn’t the gift I give you, this power is. Your acceptance of it excites me.
So push me to my limits, but please don’t exceed them.