Forget piss play, true humiliation is being taken from behind while he is wearing clunky sneakers, baggy jeans and a wrinkled polo shouting ‘Trump won!’
As I allow my dominant energy to be expressed, I can feel myself allowing submissive urges to come to the surface. As I carefully and lovingly humiliate, I find myself turned on by my own flavor of humiliation and see the urge for it bubble up from my unconscious. Is this some kind of empathetic turn on or have I uncovered a part of myself that didn’t feel safe enough to come out? Maybe both.
Regardless, it was a shock to notice that desire as I haven’t even forced him to m*sterb*te to a picture of a prominent female democrat yet.
By allowing myself to embody one extreme and see that it is safe, it is like I have widened my interior container and now can expand the other side of my psyche to allow for an even broader range of experience to be felt. Like if someone could trust me whole heartedly, then there may be someone that I could also trust. While I consider myself a switch, I haven’t played as a sub so now the sea of sensation has become even a whole lot wider.