It takes power to be a dominant, not because control is a game reserved for the domineering—it’s not, and any idiot with half a pint of clout can create a one-person dictatorship. It takes true grit to be vulnerable enough to reveal your darkest desires as a dominant in a feminist world that spends its time (rightfully) vilifying abusers. It takes strength to be honest with yourself about what you want. It takes even more to be honest about what you want from sex with a person who wants to give you the world on a subly platter.
Dominance requires incredible restraint–it’s not solely about taking, but about knowing when to stop taking. Existing on the left side of the slash is like getting that all you can eat buffet and only dishing up one side plate for yourself because the chef’s feeling ill and you want to make sure the whole restaurant gets served without the kitchen needing to make another batch. Dominance is decidedly selfless, and if that’s not hard enough for you to swing, it requires you to be selfish simultaneously. How’s that for a conundrum?
Have you ever stopped to put yourself in the shoes of a sadistic top? I couldn’t do it, even if my partner got off on pain. Sadism takes courage. What if you lost control of yourself? You cannot, and should not, dominate anyone unless you have enough self-control to keep yourself behind an invisible line that shifts with every partner and hour. It takes an incredible amount of intuition and empathy.
As a top, you must be the eye of the storm—the immovable core of calm inside the kind of chaos that can rip a person to shreds. How much stability can one person be expected to have? Apparently, an absurd amount, but hey, they’re the ones with the canes in their hands, so we subby types are the ones who deserve the brownie points.
Here’s to the dominants—the ones who have the emotional maturity to access their most unevolved traits at a time when nothing is more important than being entirely in control of their most evolved qualities.