Intermittently practicing BDSM for three years, looking back at myself and I discovered unexpectedly, the greatest takeaway was the awakening of my awareness of rights.
For over twenty years, I wandered aimlessly, hardly realizing the presence of power and rights within myself. It wasn't until I truly exchanged power with another individual that I realized, amidst the flow of power between us, that even on my seemingly insignificant self, there existed so many concrete rights.
I still remember planning my "captivity play" with my Dom two years ago on a weekend. We held a notepad, excited yet cautious, jotting down and discussing every detail we could think of.
"This means you'll temporarily lose your freedom! You'll have to surrender the power of action to me, allowing me to dictate your activities. Do you truly agree to this?" my Dom asked earnestly. I chuckled, saying he resembled a minister awaiting the emperor's decree.
"During these two days of captivity, your mobility will be limited, so we'll have low-calorie foods, mostly vegetables. Is that okay?"
"I prefer you to be completely unclothed throughout. Do you think that's acceptable? If not, please let me know, and we can discuss alternatives."
Confirming each aspect one by one, with each nod, it felt as though I could see the flow of power, crimson and fervent, surging between us. After my assent, it flowed effortlessly along with my trust into him.
I enjoyed that sensation, a controlled loss of control, a helpful sense of helplessness.
So, after experiencing all this, when halfway through the year I was suddenly confined, barred from leaving by a mere notice, stripped of my power without anyone seeking my consent, I found it unsettling.
I messaged my Dom, saying we were both confined, just like in captivity play, but without a safe word.
He replied, "Stop it, you don't need to use your number anymore."
I chuckled, shut my phone, and began pacing in the cramped rental, one step, two steps—only twenty-three steps to complete a circle. But those crimson, fervent, vigorous currents had vanished before my eyes.
I didn't enjoy the pain after being whipped. During my first session with my Dom, I discovered this issue and told him.
He said, "No problem. Let's permanently remove 'spanking' from the punishment list and try other methods."
So, we tried standing penalties, kneeling penalties, but I still didn't feel good. On one hand, my knees had old injuries, and standing for long periods made them ache terribly the next day. On the other hand, the process of standing penalties was quite boring.
Yet my Dom told me, "No problem. Let's permanently remove them from the punishment list."
I told him, "You don't have to accommodate me like this. If there's a particular method you really like, I'm willing to endure it for you."
He said he didn't enjoy making me feel pain or punishing my body. What he liked was seeing the flow of power because, in DS relationships, the most captivating aspect was power.
At first, I couldn't understand his meaning until one day, we stumbled upon something interesting.
One evening, while drinking at home, I added ice cubes to his glass. He asked if I could hold the ice cubes in my hand until he permitted me to release them.
I agreed to do as he said, but the piercing cold quickly became unbearable. I remember becoming restless but dared not let go, only wriggling my body, begging him to allow me to release the ice cubes.
He said, "You can let go of the ice cubes; it's your power."
But in reality, I knew I couldn't. I had agreed to surrender power, so I could only release them with his permission.
He leaned in close to my ear, his whisper melting my heart, and said, "Darling, let me see what you're willing to give up to earn that permission."
It was then I realized the most captivating scenes in DS relationships were born. It wasn't about the body or sex; it was entirely constructed by power from start to finish.
Though I had the power to release the ice cubes, I willingly relinquished it, wandering and enjoying within the chaos I had created with my own hands.
He lacked authority, yet because he received the power I surrendered, he became my king, initiating discipline and scrutiny from inside out.
As long as I didn't call it off, this seductive drama would continue.
My pleas transformed into shame, his demands into commands.
Until it was all splendid and intoxicating.
And it all began with me voluntarily relinquishing a tiny bit of power.
After intermittently practicing BDSM for three years, looking back at myself now.
The greatest takeaway is seeing power clearly.
Seeing how it flows from me to my Dom after consent, and how it flows back to me after refusal.
When I was younger, I always thought power was political, something only officials possessed.
It wasn't until I was with my Dom that I realized every person holds such concrete power, even if it's minuscule, it shouldn't be taken away but only voluntarily surrendered.
Recently, I moved and got two new roommates, one male and one female. The female roommate often vaped in the common area.
If it were the old me, I might have just tolerated it, but this time something seemed to inspire me. I created a group chat with all three of us and told her that vaping in the common area should perhaps be discussed and agreed upon by all of us. After all, the common space is for all of us to use and maintain, so what can and cannot be done in the common space should be decided jointly by the three of us.
Like the discussion with my Dom during the first captivity, I meticulously listed out every norm I could think of, sent it to the group, and discussed with them. Unknowingly, it filled up two A4 sheets.
As I pasted them on the wall in the common area, I recalled my Dom's often-repeated words—seeing power but not usurping it, using power but not abusing it.
I realized I seemed to have a shadow of my Dom on me, this might be the change he brought to me.