I dated. I fucked. Gave blowjobs. I got married. Of course, I also never had an orgasm, didn’t masturbate, and never watched porn. Trashy romance novels with ripped bodices on the cover were my limit (and I devoured them as fast as I could get my hands on them).
Before submission, I tried to take care of whoever was in my life that I loved: boyfriends, then my husband, and after him, the men I fucked. If they needed something: care, an ear, or even a sandwich - I was happy to provide it. It was how I showed my affection. I understood that much about myself at the time.
I was incapable of two things in the Before Submission period of my life: articulating what I wanted sexually and allowing anyone to have control over any portion of my life. While I was a fiercely independent woman, just as I’d been raised to be. It was because I was as unsatisfied and unhappy with my life. As any woman is in a bad marriage, directly followed by a lonely divorce.
Even as I was grabbing life, and the men I fucked, by the balls, I found myself alone at night, crying. And feeling sorry for myself, then becoming angry at myself. Why? Because deep down, in a private place I couldn’t admit I even had, I desperately wanted someone to take care of me. I wanted someone to tell me to go to bed, to tuck me in at night, to check in on me, to feel as responsible for me as I did for them.
I didn’t have a name for what I wanted, and I was deeply ashamed of it. Was I broken? Defective? This isn’t what I’d ever been taught a woman was supposed to want.
I realized later that if we were as “meant to be” as I thought at the time, he would have helped me with this problem. But he was another in a long list that didn’t mind letting me take care of him but wasn’t interested in reciprocating. My lack of orgasms was a problem that needed fixing.
On that masturbatory journey, I began to pay attention to what turned me on. I looked for stories, finding and loving Literotica. Image searches brought me falling into the world of Tumblr porn. I was drawn over and over again to the same stories and images: a woman giving up control of her entire being to a man who dominated her and brought them both pleasure.
I was also intrigued by the real life blogs and stories I found about people who lived a BDSM life. The amount of communication required to make it work seemed daunting but it made sense to me. Talking about what you like before you get naked made sense. It wasn’t something I could imagine doing until I got my hands on my first checklist. Now this made sense to my highly organized self.
The final puzzle piece of who I am as a person clicked into place. Sure, I was still the same person I’d always been. Anyone looking at me would never see the difference. But I knew that a hole I never knew existed had just been filled.
No, I don’t need just any man, nor do I want one. Yes, I can take care of myself, survive on my own, build a career, and raise children without BDSM. But without it, life loses its colour. It’s not as vibrant or full. Submission to the Dominant I love beyond all measure completes me. In this role, understanding who I am. Loved and cherished as I love and cherish him...
Kayla Lords is a freelance writer, sex blogger, and a masochistic babygirl living the 24/7 D/s life. She hosts a weekly podcast, Loving BDSM, where she and her Dominant talk about loving BDSM in a loving D/s relationship and share what they've learned and experienced as a kinky couple.
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