Stigmata: Erotic Humiliation
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification. -John Donne
A while back, I tackled this topic for the book, Sex Kitten Presents The BDSM Issue. In writing that essay, Erotic Humiliation is Not an Oxymoron, I took a personal journey, an internal retrospective of sorts, recalling my initial shock upon receiving such a request and my eventual delight (and maybe even a bit of sexual excitement) with this particular form of domination.
I wrote:
The slave brings his desire to be dominated and the Mistress brings her dictionary and thesaurus, because it is her facility with language which authenticates her authority in this empyreal dungeon.
It’s no secret that I deeply believe in the power of words. They are, after all, what saved me so very long ago and far away. When I was too small, the world was too big and too many caretakers were impotently wicked and/or emotionally anemic. Even today, a library is consecrated ground for me–my church, my mosque, my synagogue, my cathedral–my sacred place of transformation.
And yes, at certain times, my dungeon.
Think about sex: the sex you do have and then the sex you think about having. I would bet that, regardless of your particular kink (high heel fetish? spanking? hard fucking? cuckolding? controlled masturbation? cross dressing? romantic sensuality?), the sex you think about having includes a lot of verbiage.
i.e.
- Rub your dripping prick down the length of my stiletto heel. That’s it. Now take the tip, just the tip, and run it around the ankle strap. Slowly, very slowly.
- You know you’ve got it coming. Over my knee. NOW! Hmmm. Should I use this ping pong paddle or my hand? Such a tender little ass.
- Beg for my fat dick, you little slut. Spread those legs like a dirty little whore and jerk off your clit. Beg for my fat dick, and then I’m going to ram it into you so hard that you you’re going to cry like a bitch in heat.
- I love you, baby, but I need big cocks and lots of them. So get in between my legs and clean up the mess, baby. Marcus and Jerome fucked me sooo hard. Look how swollen my cunt is. Lick it baby. Make it feel better.
- Do you like it when I wrap my little hand around this thick man-cock of yours and stroke it like this? Oh, you’re throbbing. What if I rub my pretty little French nail back and forth every-so-lightly across the frenum?
- Oooh…your cute little satin panties feel so good between your little sissy stick and my wet pussy. But I think little panty sluts deserve a good fucking. Go get the strap-on, sweet bitch-girl.
- I love you so much, darling. Fuck me harder, my beautiful lover. I want your cum deep inside of me, honey. I need it. I need it so bad.
See what I mean? (and if you don’t, you might want to schedule an EEG)
Anyway, for those of you who haven’t run off to call your neurologist, can you understand how verbal abasement can up the ante for the submissive man or woman? And for some, perhaps even be a more-intoxicating form of domination all by itself? More powerful than whips and chains? And is particularly apropos when the dungeon is virtual, a creation of the imagination, the meeting of two minds? Two well-developed, very kinky brains?
I also wrote:
This is BDSM without the net, unconditional love on Prozac, Creatine-enhanced tough love.
And I believe it.
Some of the most intense phone domination sessions I’ve participated in have been humiliation fantasies. Meaning that I have almost dived –and perhaps even did a very feminine swan dive– into subspace with the target of my verbal venom on more than one occasion. What Tom Petty calls “free-falling.”
Done correctly (dispensing “tough love” requires a measure of love, of trust, of mutual respect), Erotic Humiliation can turn the known world upside down for both Mistress and Slave–defying physical boundaries, transcending emotional and psychological bastilles.
It is a thing of great beauty and deep mystery.
And it all starts with words. Simple, yet all-powerful words.
Now and forever. Amen.
Isabel on 14 May 2007 at 4:19 pm #
Amen, indeed. Yet another beautiful commentary, Angela. I too was saved by words, quite literally, performance poetry kept me sane during a very dark period in my life.
~
I rediscovered the poetry that had always nurtured me
Using words to map my way back to the forgotten
Metaphor molded flesh back onto bone
The mirrors cracked and fell away
And I could see my cloudless sky once more
I stared up into that void of possibility
Where destiny and death lay entwined
I shouted up to them:
I am free now
Can you see me?
HDB on 15 May 2007 at 4:51 pm #
I can honestly say that being humiliated by anyone, especially by one that I care for deeply has never “caught my fancy”.
Now the thought of being dominated by that Mistress/Goddess/Queen Angela, where can I sign up. I bet that line is around the block several times at least.
Severin's Ghost on 02 Jul 2007 at 7:12 am #
For me erotic humiliation is wonderfully, satisfyingly ego-abolishing.
When you are lucky enough to fine a woman you can trust who has the gift for it.