F$%# that Bachelorette Party Kink, Give Me Vulnerability

a black and white photo of a person viewed from behind. They are wearing a tank top and jeans and sitting on a chair. Their hands are bound together by fuzzy pink handcuffs (the handcuffs are the only colorized object in the photo).
Image by Konstantin Stepanov / CC BY

Dear Lady, he writes.

I see that from time to time you take on submissives. Well, I’m happy to say that today is your lucky day! 

More about me: Young able-bodied male with unlimited vitality ready to serve your every whim and desire. My body is your canvas. 

He describes that canvas via a flurry of statistics. Height, weight, penis size.

Here is what you can look forward to if you allow me to serve you. 

He includes an exhaustive list of fetishes, going into great detail exactly how each fantasy would play out. But even though he expresses a desire to serve and worship me, I can’t help but notice that his lengthy descriptions of the acts are centered around him.

The whole thing smacks of a guy who wants to get pro-Dommed for free.

His needs are physical. On the surface. The things he enjoys easily. A kind of spa kink. Nothing that’s remotely challenging or a reach for him.

Fuck that Bachelorette Party Kink

This isn’t the first time I’ve run into his kind.

Donning the mantle of submissive but still looking for vanilla sex, just with different props. Your garden variety “I saw this in a porn, and it looked hot, so I’d like to give it a try.” He thinks a dominatrix is just a woman in tighter clothes and higher heels. One who carries a whip but doesn’t know how to swing it, let alone bring him — sincerely — to his knees with it.

Fuck that.

I don’t want your fuzzy handcuffs, dude. Fuck that bachelorette party kink.

I’m not interested in kink without vulnerability. Without challenge.

When you are my submissive, I want to bring you to places where I see your courage leave your body. To have you crying in my arms not sure who you are. Where you are. How we got there.

I want to know what you look like when you’re defenseless. Done with everything. Pushed beyond your breaking point.

When I leave you, I want to have changed you. To know that you are different because you came to me, we connected, and I challenged you.

I long to leave you still twice my size, but sobbing and in chains. A still giant that’s been felled like an ancient tree.

*

My book is out!

Poly Land: My Brutally Honest Adventures in Polyamory

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