Kinks and Triggers

(Content warning: In spite of this wholesome photo of my girlfriend curled up asleep on my lap, this post contains elements of consensual non-consent, and some intense discussion of assault and trauma. Please take good care of yourself and be mindful in choosing whether or not to interact with this material.)

It started innocently enough, as innocent things do. I had arrived at her place hot off of an emotional argument with my ex, she could feel the anxiety radiating off of me. She wanted to help. “Do you want to take one of my Mellow Pills?”

She does shift work and often has trouble catching up on sleep. Her doctor prescribed her a sleeping pill/anti-anxiety combo to use once in a while to regulate. I’m familiar with the meds, they’re the same ones my dentist gives me when I have to have work done.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, those things zonk me out, I’d be useless,” I said.

Her eyebrow shot up.

My eyes went wide.

“Max! Are you serious???” I exclaimed, she laughed and made a sheepish face. How is it always my “vanilla” girlfriend who suggests the most fucked up things?

So we talked it out. And we made a plan. And it wasn’t a good idea to do it on that particular day, but this weekend she’s going to drug me and take advantage of me, and we both think it’s the hottest plan ever.

This is a bit tricky because I have a trauma history with being sexually assaulted when I wasn’t sober. Max and I have already worked through some of this stuff, and we’ve knocked down some walls I thought were permanent. I feel safe in her hands exploring this, even though there’s a potential that I’ll get triggered.

The idea of playing this scenario out in a safe controlled way turns me on a lot. It feels like reclaiming this kind of vulnerability. The idea that I could be “out of control” and still be safe is like a balm to my soul. My trauma tells me I always have to be on guard, hyper vigilant, submission in general is hard for me because of that. In regular life I’m always in control. I’m the boss because it’s safer that way. “I’ll take good care of you,” she says. And I know she will.

I need to feel really secure to be able to give my submission. Topping is easier for me, less vulnerable, but my trauma history makes letting someone else take the reins feel complicated. That’s why I’ve only had a few partners I’ve explored my submission with.

I’ve tried to do a scene like this in the past with a previous partner, my ex-Dom, but he ended up crossing a line and violating my consent, even though we’d discussed my history and triggers before hand. We were playing with fire and he was careless. It was a painful mistake.

I’ve talked to Max about my history and triggers, we’ve made a plan for how to manage if things go wrong. “Worst case scenario you say stop and I cuddle you and you have an excellent sleep,” she says, confident. She doesn’t see how it could go any other way. She’s so pure sometimes.

I had to explain to her what it’s like to be in bed with men. (How would she know?) I had to explain how they look at the things you don’t want to do as goals to be conquered rather than boundaries to respect. How they push and push and push. I had to explain how even “good men” become selfish and ignore signs they shouldn’t when their dicks are hard. I had to explain how every man I’ve ever fucked has complained about condoms, and “do we really need to use them?” And “come on just this once” and all the fucking bargaining and bitching. The “oops it broke” and the “I swear I didn’t notice, it just felt so good”. The times I’ve gone limp and wasn’t responding and men didn’t even stop.

It sounds like a horror show to her. She’s sorry and sad, “why do you do it then?” A question I’ve asked myself infinite times. Why bother? Because it always feels like this person will be different, or they understand so it won’t happen with them, or they’re just not that kind of guy. Until they are. And when it comes it’s almost familiar; there it is. How else do I explain?

Max has always honoured my body. She’s tuned in and responsive. She pays attention. She makes me feel safe. Even if we’re pushing some serious limits her calm stability grounds our explorations. It’s comforting. And it’s exciting. Turns out you can go so much further with pleasure and pain when you don’t feel like you have to protect yourself. Vulnerability you can actually relax into. Trust you can build on.

So we’ve picked a time and place, and we have a plan and a safety strategy in place. And this weekend we’re gonna get weird.

“What turns you on about it?” I ask. She whispers things that make my cheeks turn pink. I want to be her pretty little rag doll. She won’t have to worry about my shy sensibilities, she can look at me and all of my parts as much as she likes, I won’t mind. I’m agreeable on the Mellow Pills. Dumbed down doped up slow bunny. “Open your mouth wide for me, good girl” bunny. Bunny who doesn’t have much to say, bunny whose mind doesn’t race and rapid-fire and interrupt. Simple little rag doll bunny you can use as you please.

I want to be useful. Useful and full. Useful and full and mindless. “Shh... it’s okay....”

“Take care of me boss...” my voice is hazy. I hear her chuckle as I drift away.

“I will my little lovebird, you’re safe with me.”