Love is two people choosing each other every day. Choosing to care for each other every day. Choosing to make the other person’s needs and wants equal to theirs and not subordinate to them. Choosing to accept their flaws. Choosing to do the things that demonstrate their love every day. It’s choosing to stay. It’s choosing. And it is profound and sexy and real. You are the only force guiding your love. You want love? Stop looking to the stars, the cards, the Gods. Start looking in the mirror, because it is up to you.
She's the color in the world. Dangerous curves from a steady, sweeping broad stroke. My fingerprints graze her outline. She has hair that smells like coffee, Eyes like the night sky- dark and calm. Soft lips that tempt like honey and taste like depravity. She takes the abuse, the sadistic way I coat her canvas. Pretty colors and decorations adorn her and she wears them well.
With fingerprints on her throat and soft whimpers in my ear. She degrades herself with words, her value for my pleasure. Eager to please. Eager to be useful. She salivates with every strike of my hand, edging from the pain of my enjoyment. She strips and presents herself, a mess between her thighs. Her eyes begged me to let her taste what I'd done to her.
She's my favorite flavor of sin. An intoxicated, masochistic junkie. She'll follow me everywhere, just to chase the chaos. And the chaos is loud, but I don't know how to love another way.
“Cultivate gratitude. Make it a habit to thank the people who are there for you. Thank them for believing in you, for listening, and for being a shoulder to lean on. Thank them without the expectation of anything in return. Thank them just to express your sincerest appreciation. Make it part of your daily practice. When you truly value those that support you, you’ll soon find that it comes back to you, amplified. It’s one of those unexplainable lessons of the heart, a twisted version of Newton’s third law of motion. Actions may well have an equal and opposite reaction, but when it comes to gratitude, the reactions are often louder, grander, and uplifting.”
Let’s start off with a few points of clarification on this one.
One: Not everyone has a big reaction (emotional or otherwise) during their BDSM scene or kinky fuckery. And that’s okay. You can still have a great time and not emote all over the place.
Two: Some emotional reactions happen later and in private. That’s okay, too.
Three: Having or not having a specific reaction is not an indicator of the quality, intensity, or pleasure of your BDSM scene.
That being said at times some people will and do have different kinds of big reactions during their kinky fuckery. Some are about your personality and how you tend to react to stimuli. Others may be about what’s on your mind or your emotional state before or during your scene. And still, other reactions may seem completely random at the moment and are new to you.
Basically, what I’m saying is that’s it complicated, it varies from person to person and scene to scene, and as always, your mileage may vary.
All that being said, here are some emotional reactions that can happen when you get kinky.
Crying This may be the most well-known, but playing in an intense way with any kind of kinky fuckery like orgasm control, spankings, or anything else can produce tears. Everyone will have a different reason (if they even know why they’re crying). For me, it’s often a huge emotional release. Whatever tension I’ve been carrying around in my body comes out through the force of impact and pain.
Often it’s because I have to focus on the moment, the sensations, and what I feel in that second — instead of all the crap in my head. A few moments of mindfulness, pleasure, and feeling connected to John Brownstone, and I might be a puddle of tears. But it doesn’t just because I want it to happen. I asked to be spanked until I cried and while I felt better, not a tear was shed.
Laughter Some people react with laughter when they have an intense moment or feel overwhelming pleasure. I’ve heard it before in someone else’s scene, and it sounds like pure joy bubbling up to the surface from a deep well. Even if it’s a little jarring to hear in a BDSM club filled with implements of “torture,” it’s also amazing to witness. Laughter is just as valid as tears and can be a similar release of emotion and tension.
Some kinksters enjoy tickle play for exactly this reason. Yes, there’s power and control, but there’s also laughter. And that can be an amazing emotional release.
Defiance I can’t fully explain this one (I’ll leave that to the psychological experts out there) but I have absolutely felt defiant in the middle of a scene. I wanted what we were doing, and I fully consented to the moment. And yes, I loved the sensations. But instead of melting into pleasure or crying out my stress, I pushed back
“Is that all you’ve got?” “I can take it.” Refusing to say “red” or even “yellow” when I was starting to fade. I’ve never entered a scene planning to “take it all” but somewhere between the first smack and probably the third, it’s all I can think about. This feeling of, “I’ll win this round.” John Brownstone has reared back like a baseball player with a paddle, and I’ve smirked and said, “Green” like it was some sort of challenge. Thankfully, he’s smarter and more cautious than I am and stops sooner rather than later.
Subspace No conversation about emotional reactions in a BDSM scene is complete without subspace. Not everyone experiences it, and those of us who have don’t feel it every time. The stars, your body chemistry, and the moment have to align just right. What I do know is that the more you stress and worry over it, the less likely it is to happen.
"Scening" to get into subspace can be a recipe for disaster. The point is to do something that feels good, makes you want more, or gives you something that you need. Subspace is an extra layer of icing on an already delicious kinky cake. And while a good portion of the response is physical — endorphins, dopamine, and all that — for some, there’s definitely an emotional component.
Dom or Top Space Not to leave out Dominants, Dom space (or Top space) is also a legitimate thing. Like subspace, it shouldn’t be the goal or the point, and you can’t predict it. John Brownstone describes it as a hyperawareness and absolute focus on the moment, me, and what he’s doing. More so than normal.
Like subspace, it’s caused by a chemical reaction in the body and brain. When it happens, John Brownstone is wired for the rest of the night and crashes the next day, absolutely exhausted. Why? Because what goes up must come down.
Panic or Fear Not all BDSM scenes go as planned, and we don’t always have the reaction we think we will — Dom or sub. It’s not unusual to start a scene, do something, and safeword, panic, or feel like you can’t handle it. The most important part of this moment is that your partner stops all play. (Yes, it can happen to a Dominant too, and yes, a submissive needs to respect the needs of their partner.)
Why it happens depends on so many factors. Did you hit a boundary or hard limit you didn’t know you had? Do you have anxiety or suffer from panic attacks? Was it a bad tape or a trigger from another time? You don’t even have to know why it happened. It’s still a valid response and no, you’re not broken or wrong.
Are these every single reaction someone could have in a scene or during kinky fuckery? Of course not. Will you experience all or any of them in your own scene? Not necessarily. But it’s also important to know that it can happen so that when it does, you don’t think there’s something wrong with you.
Love is someone saying "I see you and I will walk in that direction."
Sometimes you see; sometimes they see. Sometimes you walk; sometimes they walk. Healthy love is where all of that happens consistently. That's how simple it is.
Except... no one is born good at seeing or walking. We each have to learn. Each of us, no exceptions. So we learn, at different rates, in different ways. That's how complicated it is.
If it were easy and common, it wouldn't be as valuable, would it? We'd take it for granted. We wouldn't have so many songs and stories about love if it was just some convenient product we could pick off a shelf.
Love is rare and homegrown. Each love is a unique work of art representing time and effort and dedication and all of the lessons learned along the way. That's why it's a priceless treasure. That's why it's a gamble and investment. That's why so many of us want it so much.
Learn to understand and be understood. Learn to approach and be approached. Don't get upset at anyone for learning -- including yourself. It's all part of the process we've each had to individually reinvent after thousands and thousands of years of humanity.
* The Needle And The Damage Done ~Jewel ~the Howard Stern Show (2010) * Nothing Compares To You ~ Chris Cornell ~Live @ SiriusXM * Happiness Is A Warm Gun~ The Beatles ~ The White Album * White Bird ~ Its A Beautiful Day~ Live At The Fillmore West 1972 * Too Much ~ Drake ~ Nothing Was The Same * The Wanton Song ~ Led Zeppelin ~ Physical Graffiti * Legalize It ~ Peter Tosh ~ Peter Tosh * Tired Of Being Alone ~ Al Green ~ Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame * Dreams ~ Allman Brothers ~ Eat A Peach * Whiter Shade Of Pale ~Procol Harum ~ Live In Denmark 2006 * Maggie May ·~ Rod Stewart~ Every Picture Tells A Story
Nothing Compares To You ~ Chris Cornell
It's been seven hours and fifteen days Since you took your love away I go out every night and sleep all-day Since you took your love away
Since you been gone I can do whatever I want I can see whomever I choose I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant But nothing I said nothing can take away these blues 'Cause nothing compares Nothing compares to you
It's been so lonely without you here Like a bird without a song Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling Tell me, baby, where did I go wrong
I could put my arms around every boy I see But they'd only remind me of you I went to the doctor and guess what he told me? Guess what he told me? He said, "Girl you better try to have fun No matter what you do, but he's a fool" 'Cause nothing compares Nothing compares to you
All the flowers that you planted, mama In the backyard All died when you went away I know that living with you, baby was sometimes hard But I'm willing to give it another try Nothing compares Nothing compares to you
Nothing compares Nothing compares to you Nothing compares Nothing compares to you
The intimacy of... Eye contact. Smirks across a crowded room. Raised eyebrows. Knowing glances. Witty banter. "I heard this song and thought of you." The sides of legs accidentally touching in the backseat. Dancing in front of strangers. Playful teasing. "I saved you a seat." Comfortable silences. Quiet time. Falling asleep together on the couch. "I'm so sorry." Hope. The little things. Inside jokes. Appreciation. Mutual trust. "You're my best friend." Crying in the car alone at a red light. Heart-to-hearts in dive bar bathrooms. Giving the benefit of the doubt. Giving a second chance. Giving in to a deep laugh. "I was literally just about to call you, too." Sharing books with your scribbles and notes throughout the margins. Losing your footing. "I never told another person that before." First hugs. A kiss you know will be your last. "I understand." A sense of safety. A feeling of alignment. Just knowing someone is here to stay, even though you have no real evidence for thinking so. Believing they will anyway.
* Crying ~ Roy Orbison ~Crying * These Days ~ Foo Fighters ~ Wasting Light * The Drugs Don't Work ~ The Verve ~ Urban Hymns * Mr. Blue Sky ~ Weezer ~ Weezer * Today's The Day ~ Aimee Mann ~ Lost In Space * Somebody Help Me ~ Otis Brown ~ Southside Chicago * Let's Get It On ~ Marvin Gaye ~ What's Going On * Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood ~Nina Simone ~Broadway Blues Ballads * Fall To Pieces ~ Velvet Revolver ~ Contraband * Almost Hear You Sigh~ The Rolling Stones ~ Steel Wheels * Stay With Me ~The Walker Brothers ~ Scott Walker & The Walker Brothers
* It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City ~ Bruce Springsteen ~ Greetings Fron Asbury Park
It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City~ Greetings From Asbury Park
I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova I could walk like Brando right into the sun, then dance just like a Casanova With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet Silver star studs on my duds, just like a Harley in heat When I strut down the street, I could feel its heart beat The sisters fell back and said, "Don't that man look pretty" The cripple on the corner cried out, "Nickels for your pity" Then gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty It's so hard to be a saint in the city
I was the king of the alley, Mama, I could talk some trash I was the prince of the paupers, crowned downtown at the beggar's bash I was the pimp's main prophet, I kept everything cool Just a backstreet gambler with the luck to lose And when the heat came down it was left on the ground The devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street Showin' me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy out on the street
And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead As the tracks clack out the rhythm, their eyes fixed straight ahead They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread But it's too hot in these tunnels, you can get hit up by the heat You get up to get out at your next stop, but they push you back in your seat Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street
And then South Side sisters sure look pretty The cripple on the corner cries out, "Nickels for your pity" And then downtown boys, they sure talk gritty It's so hard to be a saint in the city
You lean back in your chair, the light behind you, one leg propped up… and I try to think of a word to touch you with. A word that means I know what it is to be unused, to always be waiting, to want someone to choose a chord on your throat, on your skin, and play.
A word that means you want to resonate, to quiver with use… and there’s the word… the word with which to touch you… ‘quiver…’ an archer’s cache of unspent arrows… but also… also… to tremble, to vibrate… to quake with craving beneath a hand… I know… I know what it is to want.
