D/s: A Different Kind of Freedom

I think this is such an important post–at least for me. I am reblogging for the very first time! I hope the ochre muse doesn’t mind.

The Ochre Muse

My submission has always shocked me. The first time I was exposed to anything resembling dominance, my hormones went wild. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. Sensation was all there was. I had never been so lost in my sexuality before. I felt as though I was swimming in sex.

Then came the frenzy. Nothing could tame it, so my life turned into a hot, wet, obsessive dream. There I was, a feminist with ethics stiff enough to choke you with, accepting what I had called “abuse” only a day before. But it wasn’t abuse. It wasn’t even a pathology. It was just sex—really hot sex at that.

3

My libido is wired out of an odd tangle of objectification, masochism, and subservience. To me, control is bliss. Power exchange is the space wherein I’m free. I become a conduit for a dominant’s desire, and forgetting my own…

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