September 15, 2009

On Humiliation

I get asked this question a lot, so I thought I’d take a moment to answer it candidly.

A lot of distance and financial Dommes just tack humiliation on as something they realize a lot of men want. It’s a logical conclusion to the notion of an inferior shitwit handing over gobs of money simply because he feels himself inferior before his Feminine Superior, but for me that seems like the cart has been put before the horse.

When I look at my own trajectory of development, I find that I’ve been humiliating for as long as I’ve been aware that there are men who get off on it. Prior to becoming sexually active, which I did at a late age (19) I channeled a lot of this sexual tension into my academics, and I found that whenever I outperformed, out-debated, or outdid a boy, especially a boy I found attractive, I experienced a kind of rush.

I don’t think I had the sexual sophistication to categorize it as sexual pleasure. I don’t know if I’d even categorize it as sexual pleasure now, but I suppose it is. It’s not the kind of thing that makes me orgasm on the spot, but it definitely fueled my furtive masturbation routines, it gave me this feeling of charged, optimized focus, that being on the Top lends. This is the feeling I’ve always chased in my relations with men.

As I’ve gone about my business and selected relationships, sometimes with men, I’ve found that I simply *require* this feeling in order to function correctly, stay on even keel, and to put it simply – be happy.

There are a few ways to enjoy this zone, this sexually electric doing-not-doing zen perfection. It’s like my sexual perfect golf swing. I am addicted to this, I want no life where I cannot have it.

1. Inflicting pain, SM.
I have a vampiric relationship with physical masochists. This has been written about extensively by just about everyone who is a physical sadist, so I won’t get into massive amounts of detail. Suffering excites me. An attractive man becomes MORE attractive crying for me, and an unattractive one becomes a tragicomedy, which is an elevation of his status from irrelevancy. Rather than being sociopathic, I have a very HIGH degree of empathy, and the plucking of my own masochistic strings VICARIOUSLY through the victim, as noted in DeSade and in most TRUE accounts of Sadism, is a large part of my enjoyment.

2. Inflicting pleasure. Don’t think this means you, because it doesn’t. But in the spirit of advanced cuckolding…
The Bull I have chosen is an interesting subject. He is an ex-athlete and pain is not sexualized for him – it has associations that are so non-sexual that it just doesn’t produce the desired result. However, sexual pleasure lays him low. I have never yet had a lover who is left so naked, so vulnerable, so raw, and so dropped by his own weakness for pleasure. He is as marvelous to me as any masochist when I toy with his nipples. The means are different, the end is identical, the subject is specific and earns his way through beauty, charm, and appeal to my heart.

3. Inflicting emotional pain.
I have a fetish for effortlessness. Abrasion is one of my favorite physical games, because the notion that 20 minutes with me and a toothbrush can become screaming agony is just inherently delightful to me. How much better when I can use your mind, your insecurities, your feelings, your own wants, as the instrument of your torment? What I get out of humiliation is again, identical to what I get out of the other activities – only the subject in this case has thrown himself onto the pyre of his own fetish, sexually. He is no longer a fit object of my desire.

However he plays an important role – like the cuckold. To the cuckoldress, her cuck is the lighter fluid on her relationships. A cuckoldress without a cuck is just another woman who loves to fuck. She doesn’t cuckhold him for his benefit, but without him, her status lacks intensity that he brings.

In a similar vein, my humiliated rejects fire my flames – flames that my pleasure junkie, my pretty long-suffering boy toy dress up dollie, my masochistic girlfriend, and the objects of MY desire benefit from.

The humiliated loser drone is my fluffer, only he does not fluff the Bull, he fluffs ME. His suffering edges me, titillates me, delights me, puts me in the Zone of my sexually perfect moment and mindset, where I can taste it, savor it, chew on it, until the next sexual encounter with a sexually FIT subject happens. He pays for the privilege because this furthers his degradation. It is the totem of his unworthiness, the signifier of his sexual inferiority to me, the indelible BRAND on him that reminds him he is only a functionary in my world.

The pay pig’s paying is his only means to race my pulse and curl my lips into a smile, and propel me into my Bull’s arms harder. And he will do what he can for this privilege.

copyright: totallyabusivebitch.com, 2009 – feel free to reprint WITH credit back

Comments (1)

  1. September 15, 2009

    [...] On Humiliation [...]

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