Why I enjoy BDSM

I’m having a bout of insomnia, which happens sometimes and lately its tied to my first two days of a T injection (I take it weekly). At times like this I end up listening to music, trying to seek a lullaby of sorts. I fell across Rihanna’s new song Sledgehammer (I listen to a lot of various music, but I admit my top rotations are Rihanna, Nicki Minaj, and Beyonce songs in the daytime).

As I listen, it sort of got me thinking about why I enjoy BDSM. It’s a question often asked of me, why I enjoy submitting. Simply put, I am fascinated by the contradictions in it.

What’s ugly – bruises, marks, welts, scars – is beautiful, what is painful is pleasurable, what is considered disgusting – the degradation, the drool, the sweat, is desirable.

It’s a sort of mirror, the way everything is reversed. It feels like I am truthfully seen, for everything that I am. That there is a bit of unconditional love, that I can be accepted even though I am sweating, bruised heap and told I am a good boy makes me feel so alive.

 

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