Say what now!? On BDSM Roles and Terminology

BDSM, D/s, Fetish, Fifty Shades of Grey, Kink, Sex, Writing

Thanks to a certain well-known (and no doubt well-thumbed…Pun absolutely intended) book, the whole world has now heard the terms Dominance and Submission with regards to what people get up to in the boudoir.

Women up and down the length and breadth of the globe are now jumping up and down and shouting, “I’m a submissive! Tie me up!” and the cable tie and rope section at your local DIY store has no doubt had an influx of curious customers who may or may not be using said items for their intended purpose.

It was within reason that every sex-specific retail outlet would jump on the bandwagon and start offering themed goodies to cash in on this behemoth of a trend, but even Supermarkets are getting in on the action and offering their own line of (perhaps a little less risqué) ‘accessories’.

Seriously, Fifty Shades of Grey did for grown ups what Frozen did for a generation of children…Perhaps short of people uploading their own recreations on Youtube…cause that could’ve been disturbing/entertaining (delete as appropriate).

BDSM has had an awakening, and in general, the community is pretty happy about the fact that their favourite pastime is a little more prevalent, a little less taboo. But there is an undertone of cynicism, a whispering of discontent, and whole bucket load of exasperation at the general misunderstanding of what BDSM actually is, and what the hell it actually means to be a Submissive…or a Dominant…and wait, I’m about to confuse the fuck out of you even more…

Doms, Subs, Bottoms, Tops, Sadists, and Masochists…to name but a few.

In some circles, these are all completely different. In some circles, these are all one in the same. In many circles, these are all general terms to describe certain aspects of the BDSM dynamic and they are used to help forge an understanding of someone’s particular interest in the bedroom.

Confused yet? You probably should be…

Ok, let’s begin at the beginning and explain just a few of the words that you may come across (no pun intended) if you decide to take a little peek into the actual world of BDSM…

BDSM – Bondage/Dominance/Submission/Sadism/Masochism (I know that should be BDSSM, but it isn’t, just go with it…)

Fetish – A sexual desire linked, with an abnormal degree of interest, to a particular act/object/scenario. (Side note – Rule 36 – If it exists, there is a fetish for it!)

Kink – Sexual practices that go beyond what is considered ‘conventional’. (Side note – Vanilla – Conventional)

D/s – An abbreviation for Dominance and Submission, which is also used as an umbrella term for most types of BDSM relationships.

Primal – Someone that enjoys the raw, animalistic, approach to sexual practice, within any of the following dynamics.

Sadist – Someone who has a Fetish for inflicting pain.

Masochist – Someone who has a Fetish for receiving pain.

Top – Someone who has a Fetish for being in charge in the bedroom.

Bottom – Someone who has a Fetish for not being in charge in the bedroom.

Submissive – (Ugh…this one is tricky…in the simplest terms…) Someone who has a Fetish for relinquishing control in the bedroom (or elsewhere), with regards to physical, emotional, and sexual practice, specifically to a Dominant.

Dominant – (Ugh…just as tricky…again…) Someone who has a Fetish for assuming control in the bedroom (or elsewhere), with regards to physical, emotional, and sexual practice, specifically of a Submissive.

(Responsible Disclaimer at this point – These terms refer to the dynamic between CONSENTING ADULTS; no physical or emotional manipulation plays any part in a proper D/s relationship…Let’s not get all trolly and judgemental about it.)

I know what you’re thinking…Pretty straightforward, not so confusing…So far so good, right?

Waiiiiiiit……

You can be a Bottom without being a Submissive or a Masochist.

You can be a Masochist without being a Bottom or a Submissive.

You can be a Submissive without being a Masochist (But you would typically be a Bottom)

You can be a Top without being a Dominant or a Sadist.

You can be a Sadist without being a Top or a Dominant.

You can be a Dominant without being a Sadist (But you would typically be a Top)

You can be a Primal without being any of the above.

You can be any combination of any of the above, to any ratio, whatsoever, including, but not restricted to…

Being a Masochistic Submissive with a Primal edge that occasionally enjoys Topping from the Bottom.

Being a Sadistic Top that has no interest in Submission, but loves a good Primal Bottom.

Being a Sadomasochist that enjoys both inflicting and receiving pain but is in no way Dominant or Submissive.

Being a Bottomy Submissive with no Masochistic tendencies, whatsoever.

Being a Toppy Dominant with no Sadistic tendencies, whatsoever.

Being a Primal Toppy Sadist.

Being a Bottomy Submissive Masochist.

Being a Bratty Submissive with Switchy tendencies….Wait!! New terms???…Damnit….

See, it can get confusing.

So, here’s my point; I don’t believe there is any such thing as just a Submissive, or just a Dominant. But I also don’t believe that everyone running around calling themselves these after reading Fifty Shades of Grey is genuinely either.

I did it too….I discovered BDSM and called myself a Submissive for a long time. Then I spent some time researching…reading…writing…experimenting…and I realised just how vast and varied this lifestyle is. Just how complicated it can be, how confusing it can be, how enticing and exciting it can be, and how a thousand different nuances and tastes can be twisted and contorted and evolve into something entirely different to what you might expect.

Me? I’m a Bottomy Masochist with Submissive tendencies that lean toward the Primal.

There’s a moment…

D/s, Erotic Poetry, Kink, Poems, Poetry, Sex

There’s a moment

A beat

An insignificant pause

When my mind unravels

And becomes wholly yours

There’s a caveat

A limit

A distinct silent wall

When I lose myself completely

And my knees hit the floor

There’s a crescent

A shift

A change in the pace

When my body responds

And my senses just taste

There’s a rush

An engulfment

A heart pounding quake

When my breath is all gone

And my legs start to shake

There’s a flicker

An ember

A slow burning flame

When I hear nothing but silence

Until you say my name

There’s a hunger

A craving

An untamed desire

When I crash to your depths

And my soul sets on fire

The Submissive’s Lament (or An ode to the guys who hit on subs in bars)

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Kink, Poems, Poetry, Sex

Oh Hunny….

Oh hunny, you want to play with me?
But I’m not like those other girls, you see.
My tastes are somewhat experimental,
I don’t like it soft, I don’t want it gentle.
I like it fast, I like it rough,
Oh, I see, you haven’t heard enough?
Yes, I know, I’m quite intriguing,
“A sub, you say?” But, that’s quite misleading.
See, you’ve read 50 Shades of Grey,
and you think you know how I like to play.
But that, my friend, is a work of fiction.
I like a Dom with some conviction.
Yeah, you can pin me down, you can spank my arse,
you can even make it hard and fast.
But can you make me want you?
Can you make me need you?
Can you make me crave and yearn to please you?
And with a single look, with a subtle tease,
can you have me begging on my knees?
Can you worship my body with all of your being
and give me the pain I’m so desperately needing?
No, you can’t. I know, life’s just not fair.
You want to play, but you’re a little scared.
Well, I don’t need scared; I need firm, I need strong.
I need everything everyone’s told you is wrong.
What’s that? I’m twisted? I’m fucked up? A slut?
I’m none of those things…Well, I’m all of them, but,
I’m a playground, and you’re just not equipped to play.
So, thanks for the drink, but I’ll be on my way.

Take A Walk

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Kink, Poems, Poetry, Sex

Take a walk inside my mind before you wander round my body.

Earn my trust and know my strength if you intend to own me properly.

Let me know that I am wanted before I give myself completely.

When you touch me, make me feel it, make me want more, make me need it.

Take me gently before you hurt me; touch my soul then give me pain.

Restrain me just to free me, show me all the things I crave.

I will be a willing vessel; I will give you all that’s mine,

If I’m wanted. If I’m needed. If you’re there inside my mind.

Do you want to…?

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Erotica, Kink, Poems, Poetry

Can you see me from up there?
Do you know what I’m about?
Do you want to bite the apple?
Do you want to call me out?
Do you want to bend and twist me?
Push me? Bind me? Break me? Then…
Do you want to put the pieces back together once again?
Do you think that you can offer me everything you know I need?
I’m down here, waiting, for you, Sir.
You’ll find me on my knees.

Room 37

Erotic FIction, Erotica, Horror-Porn, Kink, Writing

Room 37. According to the online blogosphere, this was the room where the magic happened. She would have preferred it if the magic happened in the bar and she could’ve set up camp there for the next 12 hours, but who was she to tell visitors from the afterlife where to get their kicks.

She looked around The Grand Duke’s early 90’s, dated attempt at decadence; the garish patterned wallpaper, the off-white, overly washed bed sheets and sun-bleached curtains. Just once it would be nice if a five star hotel and spa resort decided to have a haunting.

The somewhat on-edge concierge had refused to step into the room, choosing to stand at the doorway and pass her her bags pretty swiftly. It wasn’t unusual in her line of work. The staff were always the worst and if the hotel management thought she was stupid enough to think they didn’t instruct all employees to play along and big up the hype, then so be it. Occasionally it even made her stays more interesting.

The Grand Duke was a little different though, she had to admit. So far, not one person had tried to regale her with stories of phantom noises and moving furniture, or that one time, Hilda, the 82 year old cleaner, had felt a ‘presence’. They definitely all knew why she was there, the side glances and slightly longer than necessary eye contact from the few employees she had come across so far made it clear that they were well aware of what she was doing.

Her job was always the same; arrive, set up, spend the night, record everything, occasionally interview staff for interesting stories, and, if the hotel or venue was willing to spring for the fee, take part in a séance with a local medium of at least some credibility. If the night was at all interesting, a few others would return and film the dialogue and presenting the following evening, the events and results were edited together in a bid to make it a ratings winner, which it rarely was, and the whole thing was then aired on a freeview tv chanel that had a lower viewership than the CCTV cameras in her local newsagent.

The rule was always never to speak to the guests. Most hotels didn’t want to scare away customers, but even when they were using their small-time notoriety to increase business, her boss didn’t want members of the public interfering with the ‘process’.

She began her ritual, pacing the room in order to find the ‘sweet spot’, every hotel room had one.

The corner by the dresser. Perfect.

She got straight to work setting up various pieces of recording equipment; some for sound, some for images. One with night vision, one without. She loved this part. She often fantasised that she was setting up for some tasteless, low rent, porn film, and she often thought she’d probably make more money if she did. She pictured various well-endowed men taking her roughly from behind on the bed on which she now centred the focus of one of the cameras. Just the thought made her creative (among other) juices start to flow. She squeezed her thighs together in bid to brush off the low burning sensation that immediately awakened between her legs.

Focus, Elizabeth!

She checked and double checked the equipment; not that it mattered, she rarely caught anything on camera that was going to provide her with her big break.

Sighing and contemplating for about the five hundredth time whether or not this would be her last gig, she picked up her bag and left the room to explore the rest of the hotel.

There was nothing exciting about this hotel. Every room and corridor was as clichéd as the next, and the smell of slightly damp bed linen clung to the walls as she made her way around, getting a feel for the building and trying to find anything her boss might be able to use as what he called a ‘hook’. She gave up pretty quickly and decided to have an early (and decidedly sub-par) dinner in the hotel restaurant before returning to her room to shower and go to bed.

The internet was the program’s main source of income, from its website and webisodes (for those that didn’t make the tv cut), and the forums that had countless people suggesting venue after venue. She checked them regularly, returning this evening to the forum post that had lead her here in the first place. Strange noises in the corridor…blah blah…staff don’t even like to work there…blah blah….building has a violent history….blah blah….Room 37….

…..

She wasn’t sure of the time. She wasn’t even sure if she was awake, but the definite brush of something against her leg made her shift under the covers and stir slightly. When it happened again she barely even noticed. The tiniest sound of contentment escaped her as the brush became a tender stroke that started slowly along the back of her calf. As it reached her thigh it became just slightly firmer, gliding smoothly upwards. She sighed a little, drifting in and out of the deepest sleep, enjoying the dreamlike sensation, and moved her leg aside to allow her imaginary admirer easier access to her.

The most delicate touch crept between her legs and lightly stroked her already silken wetness. She shifted again, her subconscious state enjoying this little episode. Fingertips traced the smooth line of her stomach, circling towards her ribs and barely sweeping her breast, arousing a tender nipple in their path, over her shoulder, gently down her arm, before curling firmly around her wrist. She half-heartedly attempted to release the grip, but her slumbering state left it a futile assignment, and this dream was just beginning to get interesting.

…….continued in Taboo, available now on Amazon Kindle!

A Poem About Submission

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Erotica, Kink, Poems

Take me to that place
Where my mind is not my own
Where the colours are more vivid
And the music has more tone
Where my senses all evaporate
And all that’s left behind
Are the pictures that you choose to paint
On the walls inside my mind

Let me drift on placid waters
Let me hang on crescent moons
Let me wander in it endlessly
Don’t let it end too soon

Take me to that place
Where I do not need to think
Write your stories on my body
Let your touch become the ink
Take me far away from here
Let the world outside us cease
Let me take your pain and give you tears
Our bitter sweet release

So, a little about me…

Erotic FIction, Kink, Writing

Well, here I am. Starting my blogging journey in a bid to promote my writing and get myself ‘out there’.

If you fancy coming along for the ride, please follow my story and then, when I’m rich and famous (mwahaha), you can say, “I knew her when…” Just kidding (well, maybe).You should probably know a little about me, though, huh…?

I’m a wife and mother of two, soon to celebrate the 3rd anniversary of my 29th birthday. I’ve been a professional Freelance Writer for over three years now, but have been an author and poet in my head since I was about five. In my day job, I write about fitness and nutrition, supplements, and clean eating; the rest of the time I write about filth, kink, sex, and ‘all that good stuff’ (see what I did there…).

I am a geek, I love films and old books, I am (slightly) obsessed with Oscar Wilde, I have tattoos, I grow my own vegetables, I also sing Opera (not even kidding, I really do…), I sing other stuff too, but yeah, I love Opera. I am opinionated, insecure, and somewhat misanthropic at times. I have amazing friends, I mean seriously, amazing! They keep my going and stop me losing my mind…and I am a ridiculous over-user of the ellipsis…

Part one of my new erotic fiction series, ‘At His Beck and Call’, is soon to be published on Amazon Kindle (a teaser preview is available to buy now).

So, there you have it; me. Happy reading!