‘I have shorts you can borrow’ my mum says.
Ugh. I hate shorts. Why can’t I wear capris, like I do for exercise, or these super cute flamingo pyjama shorts that I’ve wanted for ages (ok, the physio might have laughed at those).
The truth is, it’s probably not the shorts that are bothering me.
I get accused a lot, by some of my real life friends, of being super vain, by which they mean, ‘I saw you just walk past that shop window and check yourself out.’
Except, I’m not checking myself out. Or at least, not in the way they think I am. It’s true, that when passing a mirror, or a window, or any reflective surface, my reflex is to examine myself in it. But I’m not checking to see if I look good. What I’m looking for is threefold:
a) Do I feel passably attractive today?
b) Do I look fat?
c) Am I walking in a way that people will perceive as ‘normal’?
If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you’ll know I’m not good at looking away, literally or metaphorically, from the things that upset me and/or make me anxious. You’ll know too, that I don’t like my body and that I believe my disability and my submissiveness are intrinsically linked. But what I don’t think I’ve touched on is that one of the things that fascinates me about submission is how often it’s associated with stillness.
And I’m both drawn in by that, and increasingly interested in inverting it.
I was thinking about it today, at the first serious hospital appointment I’ve attended to assess my hemiplegia in twenty years. As the physio explained how the two hour appointment would work – measuring my legs, testing my strength and dexterity, fitting sensors all over my lower half to track my movements – the same old issue was bothering me.
‘Do I have to see the stuff you’re capturing? I really don’t like video cameras.’
‘Not if you don’t want to. Most people find it interesting, though. Gait is very distinctive and lots of people recognise theirs on screen as soon as they see it.’
Yeah, I thought, that’s exactly what I’m worried about.
As it happened, it wasn’t that bad. It turns out you can walk up and down a room endless times and avoid eye contact with everyone present. It turns out that when you see footage that’s essentially just a series of computer-generated lines and dots for your legs, with a triangle for your pelvis and nothing above it at all, it’s not too hard to disassociate that with the body you’re uneasy living in. It turns out that you can live with the limp the way it looks on screen, even if your left leg does swing through without bending, not unlike the foot in Mousetrap.
It turns out you can leave with a different perception of your disability than the one you went in with- limp not as bad as you thought, but left ankle strength only a 1 out of 5 – and also wondering why you’re not getting to the heart of the way that makes you feel in your fiction.
I wrote a story last year where the FMC shares my condition. In that story, she and her partner invite another man into their bedroom in order that she’ll understand that she’s desirable to men other than the one she’s with in spite of her disability. I’m thrilled it was published, and I’m proud of it, but it fails to engage with the reality of disability and kink as fully as I’d have liked.
Back to the question of being still. When I’m submitting, the act of submission has never been characterised by stillness. I’d freak out if a man wanted to find me waiting for him on my knees. I don’t really see the appeal of rope bondage. I like to be held down, but only if I can struggle against the restraint: I like sex to be rough, out of control, blurry: sufficiently chaotic that neither he nor I can focus on the way my body looks or moves, essentially. Because even kneeling, although it ostensibly means staying still, requires that you can move in a certain way, and I’d want to do it gracefully and independently, not have to lower myself down and haul myself back up by the nearest surface or available hand.
So yeah, I want to write about that, because although it makes me uneasy, anything which makes me uneasy also has the potential for power-dynamic and humiliation play, things which I’m always keen to explore further – and fiction, after all, is a safe space in which to do so. And I want to push it even more – because if I’d be risking humiliation if a guy asked me to drop to my knees, I’d be risking it even more if he asked me to pace the room back and forth while he watched.
I want to play with those ideas of movement and motionlessness in my stories. I want to confront the things that scare me about my disability and that I’d love to overcome through kink, and work them right in there. Keep reminding me. Ask if I’ve written about it yet. Suggest new ways I can approach it. And, if stillness is central to your kink, please consider leaving a comment explaining why it appeals to you. Because, like I said, it fascinates me.
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I’m definitely looking forward to reading more from you,both fiction and blogging. Different outlooks on sex and sexuality have always fascinated me.
Like you, I am not still in my submission, but I am not one to fight either. I am somewhere in the middle, I think. As for kneeling and getting up… those are the times that I feel like an old woman, because I cannot get up gracefully at all. I look like a clumsy elephant when I get up from my knees.
I love reading your stories where you challenge yourself and write about your discomforts. You are a brilliant author!
each has their own form of submission. I have to physically subdue my sub. It is how we work and though she is finally still it takes great effort of my part to get her there but it is what she craves.
Nothing wrong with yours being as it is.
I love stillness. It’s a desire that’s developed over the past few years. It kind of started innocently enough, just deciding to stop moving so much sometimes when my husband was fucking me because it felt so good to let go of everything and the sensations for me were really intensified. It’s led to a gentle, slow exploration of submission for me, and one my most favourite things to do is to try and remain perfectly still while my husband plays with me (and himself), however he wishes. For me, the discipline I ask of myself to do this, and the deep erotic charge I feel while trying to control my body, (even when my darling’s missives are driving me insane with pleasure), is incredible! Sometimes I liken it to wanting to be like a sex doll, and be used for whatever pleasure he wishes to use me for, or pretending to be asleep for as long as I can while he plays with me. One day, I would love to be able to have enough control so that my husband can bring me to orgasm while l remain still (well, as still as a girl can be when her body is exploding with sensational pleasure). I think it would be amazing.