subbie emotions


When I first started reading about BDSM (scholar’s solution to everything, I suppose – hit the books), I understood the physical aspects immediately. The emotional part of the whole thing was a little harder to understand. I was pretty skeptical, really, particularly about things like sub space.

As I said in my last post, my first hint of the emotional side of BDSM was during a spanking administered by the first Dom I ever played with. Tears sprang to my eyes, and if the spanking had gone on much longer, I’m sure they would have flowed freely. And it wasn’t fear, or overwhelming pain, or guilt… I don’t even remember thinking about anything specifically. It felt like the beginning of a physical and emotional catharsis, but is such a catharsis possible without even knowing the root cause? I’m just not sure.

Being submissive, I’ve come to learn, has everything to do with emotions. At least for me. That doesn’t mean I’m crying all the time… far from it. But the most intense reactions and the most intensely sensual experiences all seem to come when an experienced Dom plays with my emotions. My need for approval. My desire to submit. My need to feel safe and sweetly threatened all at once.

If it’s just about the whips and chains, frankly, it’s not going to do much for me. They are symbols to be used, sensations to marry with emotional resonance in order to achieve a desired result.

Whooo-ee, that’s a lot of heavy thinking.

My most emotional reaction came one night when I was playing with the Dom I’d been seeing for a while. I was naked and cuffed and chained in the middle of the living room, which was mostly dark, lit mainly by candles. He had me stand in front of him while he used his flogger on me, stinging and lovely heavy thuds all mixed in together.

Suddenly, I started to cry. All these emotions were whirring inside me like a tornado and I couldn’t even focus on any one of them to identify it, and the tears started rolling. He stopped to make sure I was OK. I assured him I was, and he kept going… riding me through this incredible emotional wave. He stood me in front of the mirror and came up behind me, touching me, arousing me so intensely my knees were buckling and I leaned against him for support. In time he tied me to the bed good and tight and we fucked while tears continued to leak from my eyes.

No, it didn’t hurt. It felt wonderful. It was just an emotionally devastating experience. I slept for what felt like a week afterward. I have no idea what brought it on, what emotions I was releasing. But thankfully he was a considerate Dom and seemed to understand my need to release without processing these emotions, and took very good care of me afterwards, holding me against him, kissing my wet temples.

Would I want that to happen all the time? Hell no. I’m not usually an overly emotional girl, particularly when it comes to sex. But it made me realize that I am not immune to the emotional side of the games we play.

For all my outrageous independence and determination to fend for myself, it was very sweet to be taken care of that way. I know you non-BDSMers may be having a hard time wrapping your minds around the image of a black-clad Dom holding a flogger being a caretaker, but he was indeed that night.

There will always be a small part of me that needs to be cared for. Perhaps that’s part of the appeal of submission.

About the author

Vikki McKay

1 comment

Follow Me