Power and Dominance...
Some answers: well not officially
a response to your questions
, which I am still collating and awaiting more of. No, this post is more an answer to myself
, to a question that has been swimming round my head for a while now:
When was it that I first became interested in being submissive in bed?
And I racked my brain and thought back. Before SP
. Before the masochism that was being with B
. Before my experience in an S & M dungeon, before my Domming a partner with whips, belts, hard smacks and handcuffs, even before my roleplaying where I 'took advantage' of a partner 'against his will'. No, now I remember, it was with a cop
I had been on a demo in central London. It was mostly a peaceful affair, each side keeping their distance. But as usual, the police decided to bring in the heavies, and replace their uniformed officers with the baton-wielding, armoured up riot shielded variety who then proceeded to lock groups of us into sectioned off positions in the West End. Now, I've been up against these guys before - many times. And you don't fuck with them. No sir. And I should know: I've had my head kicked in and been hospitalised just by standing
at the front of a march. Anyhow, we weren't there to start trouble: we were begging for peace
. So, I did what anyone would do: I walked through the crowds, pushed my way to the frontline, strolled into the no-mans-land that was 20 foot of tarmac between the demo and the riot police, gritted my teeth and walked up to each and every cop on that frontline and handed every single one, a flower
. Yes, I was that girl. I was the one singing:
"All we are saying, is give Peace a chance",
and I knew that at any moment one of them could have given me a knock with his truncheon and I would have been on my knees. But they didn't (though some told me to fuck off). Most of the cops grinned and took the flowers; a few of them actually thanked me. It struck me how fucking futile the whole thing was. Here were some blokes having to stop us protesting, where most of them agreed with what the demonstration was about.
Yes some coppers are people too, only one is a bad apple in a bunch, blah blah blah, but in my book, you put a uniform on anyone
and they suddenly start to develop fascistic tendencies. You should see these guys in action, I mean in close-up
. The buzz they get from legally
being allowed to kick the shit out of someone is frightening to watch, (especially if you're the one at the end of their truncheon, feet, fist etc).
Anyway, I digress. Me, the hippie-girl handing out flowers to coppers. I could hardly believe myself. Had I suddenly gone soft in the head? Why did I even approach them? I mean, they pretty much stand for everything I don't agree with: protection of capitalist property, defending the ruling classes interests, and being an organisation filled with right-wing sexist, racist, assholes. So why did I find it such a thrill
I thought about it a lot that night, even when I was in some internet chat room talking about the demo with others, sharing in the collective fury at having been stuck in cordoned off areas for hours on end. And then this bloke joins in the discussion, quietly knowledgeable - a little too knowledgeable. At first I thought he was an activist, maybe with the Wombles
; he reminded me of people I knew in those movements. But when we entered a private chat room together, I realised that what he knew was one-sided and almost 'state sanctioned' and I could smell Special Branch
or at least Special Twig all over him; when I questioned him on how he knew particular bits of information, he finally owned up to being a copper.
I was a knifes edge away from exiting the room then and there. But one thing stopped me. And no, it wasn't about me wanting to get all huggy and friendly with a copper; it was me wanting to get all hot and sweaty with a copper. Our conversation turned into a blazing argument, about politics, the law, socialism, capitalism, you name it. And his opinions were so
narrow-minded, I couldn't believe the propaganda he had swallowed and was repeating to me, so
ignorant. And to my surprise, with my fury, I got wet
. The discussion became more and more heated and before I knew it we were having a hardcore
cyber sex session, involving him ripping my clothes off, throwing me on my back, holding me down and fucking me hard (with his cock and er, truncheon).
I could hardly say that we became friends, even though we repeated our online fucking numerous times over many months, but there was definitely a mutual interest there: for me, the thought of having sex with a policeman was absolutely abhorrent
to me, but yet totally thrilling
at the same time. Not because of the uniform (yawn), but because of the power
he wielded. His status, his dominance, his ability to abuse me, hurt me and arrest me, turned me on and I became almost addicted to the thought of being under his total
control. And I guess for him, it was the similar thrill of fucking someone you would never touch face to face (unless it was his, er truncheon, against my face).
So I realised that maybe for a long
time the idea of being submissive to a man had interested me even though it seemed against everything I believed in politically (especially with my being a feminist). And the way my desire finally manifested itself - having cyber sex with a copper - makes me laugh, now at least, at the time I found it repulsive
(and I was ashamed of what I had done for a long time). But now I understand: I don't need or want someone who does
have power over me to wield power over me in bed; rather I want to find someone who is my equal, where the status is balanced, where there is mutual respect and love, and then
I want them to spank the hell out of me, call me a slut and make me beg for more. That
is power, and it's oh so attractive to me...
Keep the questions coming. I shall wait a few more days to give everyone the chance to ask me something they'd like answered (via email please). And will be posting the results shortly. Until then...
Now, where's that truncheon/vibrator?