After practicing BDSM intermittently for three years, I look back at myself and realize something unexpected: the greatest gain has been the awakening of my awareness of power.
For over twenty years, I wandered through life, almost unaware of the existence of power and rights within myself. It was only after truly exchanging power, seeing power flow clearly between myself and another individual, that I realized even a tiny being like myself possesses so many concrete rights.
Earlier this year, I was confined to my small apartment in Shanghai for over a month. Unable to go out, come in, cry, or shout, many strange thoughts came to mind.
I still remember two years ago, planning my first “confinement play” with my Dom over a weekend. We held a notebook, excited yet cautious, writing down and discussing every detail we could think of.
“This means you will temporarily lose your freedom! You will give me the power to control your activities and scope. Do you really agree to this?” My Dom asked seriously. I laughed and said he sounded like a minister waiting for the emperor’s decree.
“For these two days of confinement, your activity level will be lower, so we’ll switch to low-calorie foods, mainly vegetables. Is that okay?”
“I prefer that you remain unclothed the entire time. Do you agree with that? If not, please tell me, and we’ll discuss other options.”
We confirmed each detail like this, and with every nod, I felt power flowing. A red, hot, vigorous current would transfer to him with my consent.
I liked that feeling. It was a controlled loss of control, a helpful helplessness.
So after experiencing this, when suddenly confined during the first half of the year, my freedom taken away without anyone seeking my consent, I felt very uncomfortable.
I messaged my Dom, saying we were all confined now, without a safe word.
He replied, “Stop saying that, or you’ll get banned.”
I laughed and put down my phone, spinning in my tiny rental room—one step, two steps, it only took twenty-three steps to complete a circle, but those red, hot, vigorous currents had vanished.
I do not like the pain from being whipped. I discovered this during my first session with my Dom and told him.
He said, “No problem, let’s permanently remove spanking from the punishment list and try something else.”
We then tried standing punishment and kneeling punishment, but I still felt uncomfortable. I have a knee condition, and standing for long periods makes it hurt the next day. Plus, the standing punishment process was quite boring.
But my Dom still said, “No problem, let’s remove them from the punishment list.”
I told him, “You don’t have to accommodate me so much. If there’s something you particularly enjoy, I’m willing to endure it for you.”
He said he didn’t like making me feel pain or punishing my body. He enjoyed seeing the flow of power, because the most fascinating aspect of a DS relationship is power.
At first, I couldn’t understand what he meant until one day, we accidentally discovered something fun.
One time while drinking at home, I added ice to his glass. He asked if I could hold the ice in my hand and only put it down with his permission.
I agreed to do as he said, but the biting cold quickly became unbearable. I remember feeling restless but didn’t dare let go, only writhing and begging for his permission to put the ice down.
He said, “You can put down the ice; it’s your right.”
But in reality, I knew I couldn’t. I had agreed to give up that right, so I needed his permission to put it down.
He whispered in my ear, melting my heart, “Dear, show me what you’re willing to do to earn that permission.”
That’s when I realized the most captivating aspect of a DS relationship had emerged. It wasn’t about the body or sex; it was entirely constructed by power.
I clearly had the right to put down the ice, but I voluntarily gave it up, lingering and enjoying the loss of control I created.
He didn’t inherently possess authority, but because I relinquished power, he became my king, disciplining and scrutinizing me from the outside in.
As long as I didn’t call stop, this seductive drama would continue.
My pleading turned into shame, and his requests became commands.
Until it was a vivid, enchanting, drunken haze.
And all of this began simply because I voluntarily gave up a little bit of power.
After practicing BDSM intermittently for three years, I look back at myself and see that the greatest gain has been clearly seeing power.
Seeing how it flows from me to my Dom with consent and back to me when I refuse.
In my youth, I always thought power was political, something only officials had.
Being with my Dom made me realize that everyone has so much specific power. Even if it’s small, it can’t be taken away, only voluntarily given.
Recently, I moved and got two new roommates, a man and a woman. The woman often smoked in the common area.
In the past, I might have tolerated it, but something encouraged me this time. I created a group chat for the three of us, telling her that smoking in the common area should be something we agree on since it’s a shared space.
Like my first confinement discussion with my Dom, I meticulously listed every rule I could think of and sent it to the group for discussion. Unintentionally, I filled two A4 pages.
When I posted them on the wall in the common area, I recalled something my Dom often said—seeing power but not taking power, using power but not abusing power.
I suddenly realized I had become a bit like my Dom. This might be the change he brought in me.
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