I told three friends the other day that I wrote BDSM erotica. I even gave them my pseudonym so they could read it. They are the 3rd, 4th and 5th people I’ve told since I started publishing my work in December. I’m not out as a submissive to many people, obviously, and sharing my writing essentially outs me, as it’s all about femdom and it wouldn’t take a genius to put it together. But telling these friends felt right. These are good people: the kind who see the weird in you and like you more for it. After telling them, I quickly said: “Don’t think just because I write about it that I want it to happen to me, ok? A lot of stuff is just for the story. It’s not me. Ok?”
I was lying. I want most what I write about to happen to me. And the things I think they would be most shocked by, the things I was thinking of when I said that to them: I especially want that. I want to be put over someone’s knee and spanked for not making the bed correctly. I want someone to make me eat oatmeal drenched in her piss. A part of me is ashamed of wanting that. And a larger part of me is ashamed for feeling that shame.
I grew up in a small college town pre-internet – I’m in my 40’s – and I thought I was the only one on earth who wanted to be dominated. So I kept it to myself. I wasn’t a big talker anyway, and I felt weird and wrong for a lot of reasons. Wanting women to abuse me, though, was one of the things I hated most about myself. I just wanted to be normal and fit in and I knew I didn’t and I couldn’t accept it. I wasn’t the cool kid who didn’t care what people thought, either. I hid who I was because I thought it would make people like me, and they didn’t like me anyway and I was unhappy.
So I fantasized in secret that the girls in jean jackets who smoked cigarettes and wore too much eyeliner would tie me up and shave my pubic hair. I fantasized they would make me lick their asses. And I felt guilty about it. I couldn’t separate the idea of wanting to be dominated with being weak. I don’t think that that’s all that unusual during middle and high school. Even without social conditioning, it’s difficult to feel manly about wanting a woman to put you in a pink tutu and make you wet your pants. Adolescence is a rough time, and I didn’t understand sexuality and desire at all and didn’t know that a lot of people, a lot of people, wanted to be dominated. I don’t blame the younger me for feeling ashamed.
But now I’m older and relatively well adjusted. I’ve accomplished things. I know BDSM is healthy, and I know there’s not a stadium in the world big enough to hold all the guys who want to get pegged. So why do I still lie to my friends? Why can’t I fully accept who I am? Why am I still, at this age, ashamed of myself?
I get that fear of banishment is hard-wired into us. It used to mean death, so it makes sense. But I’m not going to be banished for wanting to be dominated. I’ve either purposefully or by good fortune jettisoned all of my shitty friends that I had been keeping out of habit. All that is left are the good ones. They’d be surprised if I told them what I wanted, and I’d have to explain the usual things about consent and how BDSM relationships are based on love and respect. In as nice a way as possible, they’d ask if I had been molested. But by the end of the conversation, they’d be cool with it and it would be just another one of the many odd things about me.
But I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to have those conversations. And part of the reason is that I’m not fully comfortable wanting what I want. I’m not sure why that’s still the case.
I wonder if I should worry less about why I feel this way and more about what to do to finally accept myself fully. But maybe those two things are intertwined and I need to understand the root cause of my shame to excise it fully. Or maybe that’s faux-therapeutic bullshit.
All I do know is that I have things to figure out, and I’m going to write about it, because I don’t think I’m the only one out there dealing with these issues, and because it feels really good, even hidden behind my pen name, to finally be honest about what I’m feeling.
About the Writer
Thimble has been creating femdom relationships and worlds in his head for as long as he can remember. Seven years ago he began writing them down, and in December of 2018, he self-published his first book: When Femdom Dreams Come True. This was followed by Training My Professor, Learning to Serve and Obey, and The Boarding School Slavery Series. His stories explore the psychology of femdom, including the push-pull of desire and shame that sometimes comes with submission, and creative avenues of both physical and mental domination. He is a retired circus artist.