As I said in my first post on this blog, I have pretty much gotten past all the guilt and shame I’ve felt in the past about my own sexual fantasies (BDSM, rough sex, humiliation etc.). However, there is still one thing that until recently made me very unease with my desires. Me and my mother have never had a particularly good relationship (Short version: personality conflicts leading to complete, total, and unless something radical happens irreparable communication breakdown and dysfunction). This has always left me with this sinking feeling that my fantasies where somehow an indicator of some latent misogyny; or some sick continuation of the screwed-up dynamics of my mother-son relationship. This intense, deep, visceral fear that this kink, this pleasure, was just I sign of how broken I was; that I was damaged beyond repair; that as much as I’ve tried to not let that relationship taint my others in life it had, it was crippling. Even now just, reliving those emotions for the sake of writing this post drains me greatly.
In my mind, I knew this did not make sense but the thoughts reminded regardless. It was until I started experimenting with submissive fantasies as opposed to dominance fantasies that it all finally *clicked*. Once I saw things from a different angle; an angle whose imagery was not as historically charged; an angel that wasn’t as constantly distorted and twisted by the narrowed mind and those with extremist political agendas, the obvious finally became clear. What were the elements that defined the dysfunctional relationship I have with my mother: distrust and horrendous lack of communication. What on the other hand were the defining traits of safe, sane, and consensual kink: trust and communication. What was on the surface didn’t matter the underlying dynamics of these scene were the diametrical opposite of what I feared they represented. Maitresse Madeline and Dean Strong, likely commutated more in the time it took to make the kink.com scene I mentioned in my previous post than me and my mother have in the last month (or year). For me to even consider being tied up and have my ass wacked with a single tail by a women doesn’t suggest some latent distrust of women it suggested the opposite an incredible capacity for trust. Similarly, in the opposite direction a women would have to trust me greatly in order to let me do anything like that to her. This wasn’t something I had to run away from, if anything it was something positive something good, something that has final *clicked*…to the crack of a whip no less .