|
PrinceKing -> A new Dom in Space.. and the trouble it causes (2/9/2007 5:07:38 PM)
|
Hey, name's PK. First post to the boards, though I've been here a little while.
I've decided to create a new topic to describe something very personal in my life.. for no other reason than the sudden urge to share. With strangers, no less.
I am a 22 year old lesbian. Been aware of that since I was 18.
I am also a Dominant and a Sadist. Been aware of that for about 3 weeks. However, those closely involved in my life and emotionally attached to me have been aware of it since I was roughly 8 years old. I don't remember much, but my mom told me that's when it all changed. This darkness inside of me just.. "woke up".
That's not what I'm going to talk about in this topic. I was abusive and out of control through older childhood and all through my teens. That is behind me. I've had years of isolated, intensive soul searching (albeit in exchange for the development of normal social skills) and am proud to know that I no longer struggle with self control. I am a considerate, intelligent, caring person with a deep appreciation for love, beauty, honor and discipline.
What I am going to talk about in this topic today is DomSpace.. or my understanding of it, though personal experience. My topic revolves around a very personal experience that has taken place within the past 2 years of my life.. and ultimately lead me to this website. So, let me start where it most naturally always seems to.
I met a girl. Soon, I loved her.. which was fortunate, as she loved me back. It was my first serious relationship. She was everything I could ever dream of. Within months, we lived together. She was the first person in my life I'd ever felt unselfish with. I wanted to do things to make her happy. I wanted to be closer to her than two people could ever have been.. and we were. Everything was blissful. It felt so light.
One day, not too far into our knowing one another, we had our first fight. She'd wanted me to do something that I wasn't ready for, and I couldn't understand how she would blame me for saying no. Her pride had her pressuring me to submit myself to her will. I had no will to do so. I felt hurt and insecure. In my time of weakness, with tears buring in my eyes, a cool calm awakened in a familiar place in my mind.. like ice blue eyes opening behind my own.
These eyes watched her as I did, though they did not cry. They watched many things in our relationship.. and as more shows of her will battled against mine, a dark hunger began to stir.
Now, this had happened to me many times, though I had never been in love. The closeness of our bond drove my hunger to new depths. In the past, I would have simply begun acting out. Trying to distract, trying to separate, never knowing what could sate me. I did not want to risk such things with her, nor tarnish my newly found self discipline. So, like any young adult, I looked to the outside world for guidance and found it in the form of a favored movie that seemed to have a connection to my cravings.
One night, not too long after this darkness had awakened, I sat her down with a desire to communicate what was confusing me. When I couldn't find the words that would propperly express my feelings, I looked to my chosen source of guidance and delivered a pointedly stupid command. "I want you to hit me as hard as you can." Complete with tone and emphasis. I was Brad Pitt himself. The scene in the movie somehow related to the thirst I was feeling, though I couldn't be sure what it was.
Then, she revealed the answer for me with a phrase I will never forget. It was shocking, unexpected; the cool stare in her eyes as she lifted a finger to point at her cheek. "You first."
I will never know what her intention was behind it. Perhaps she was just playing, or maybe she wanted to test if I would. There was no guessing to be done. Nearly the instant she gave her informal consent, my hand lashed out to connect - palm to cheek. Her head snapped to the side and she made this.. grunt. It ignited a fire. Slowly her head lifted, no disbelief on her face, only a finger lifting to the other cheek in a cold, glaring dare.
I took it. The fire grew. I followed her apparent request three more times before noticing the tears in her eyes. My blood was pumping hot, breath heavy, and I forced myself to stop as overwhelmed tears began to stream down my face. It felt so good. To see her staring back at me, cheeks red, eyes gleaming.. I felt a connection I never knew could exist. It truly scared me. I finally broke the silence; ".. It's my turn."
The blow she set free landed me crashing to the bed. It cleared my head.
It was the beginning of an addiction. From that point on, I craved her tears. She was so tough and cool.. noone else could ever see them. I headed down into what I thought with great terror was an abusive relationship, with myself on the giving end. She'd always give her consent, but I felt so guilty. What monster was I who would feel such pleasure in the sting of connecting flesh? Feel so much release and euphoria when biting down harder... harder... until I felt her body shaking beneath me.
It wasn't like that all the time. Normally I was still sweet and playful, light and gentle. I'd open the door, buy her presents, cuddle and be very affectionate. She used to say she could see the change.. like my eyes actually shifted when my mind would switch gears. I had a stare, she said, that could look right into her soul. The thirst would come on strong and for seemingly no cause at all, as if I were a lion who'd just caught the scent of blood.
We went on like that for nearly a year, switching from light to dark. I would be so at peace, so sure of what was right because it felt so good.. but after each incident, it seemed that there was no way it could be healthy or normal and I began looking up abusive relationship resources. Everything I found was for the victim and made me feel so sick. Nearing the end, perhaps I really was. The addiction grew stronger. Her willingness wasn't enough. I became more and more cold; her tears were old news and I would watch them fall without empathy. This strong woman who had allowed me into her soft core began to look weak in my eyes.. and I let her know it. I lost respect for her. I wanted to own her.
I nearly did. The only thing that stopped it from happening, I believe, is the fact that she is not a slave. In all actuality, she is not submissive. Shockingly, she is not even masochistic. Everything she gave me was out of love, out of the desire to make me happy.. and because I misused that gift through my ignorance, our relationship ended in an emotional explosion. She ripped herself out of my grasp and regained the freedom of a mind that I had nearly managed to claim as my own. I'd never felt so hollow.
It has been over half a year since that time. This addictive sensation that had twisted me to the brink of my own self control now haunted my mind. I had heard of a strange word, most likely in a movie, called "sadist". I researched. Before 3 weeks ago, I'd thought BDSM was just a community of sexually addicted perverts... and for the most part, I haven't been proven wrong. Still. I took a further look and was blown away. I never knew there were people who actually Enjoyed what I found myself craving to administer. I never knew there were those who longed to be under the control and enslavement that I had been trying to obtain over the vanilla and unwilling for most of my life.
As I was unaware of what these feelings truly mean and where they come from, I could not hope to control or properly direct them. As I thought they were evil, so I saw myself lowly. Now I begin my new journey, aware of this phenomina that I understand to be DomSpace, finally ready to embrace it.. and myself.
|
|
|
|
