by KD Robichaux
He nods, writing something down, then asks, “Were these D/s relationships, or vanilla, meaning normal, non-BDSM relationships?”
“Vanilla. I’ve never been in a D/s relationship before. I mean, not where it was talked about,” I reply.
“Can you expand on that?” he requests.
“Well… for some reason, I feel like my relationship with Corbin was slightly D/s. We never talked about it, but just… the way it felt was like he was definitely dominant, and I’m naturally submissive. It worked for us. Beautifully. I loved the way he took control, not only in the bedroom, but how he took care of me. Always protected me. And I doted on him. It gave me actual physical pleasure to please him. It was practically orgasmic when I could make that man smile. You see, he was very serious. Very reserved and… broody, I guess? So when I could make Corbin smile, and even laugh…” I shake my head, remembering Corbin’s perfect smile, and the tone of his wonderful laugh. “…it was a feeling of complete euphoria. I didn’t know what dominance and submission were until I read about it in a romance novel, and as I was reading it, it struck me as so familiar, because it’s like I was reading the same feelings I got when I was with Corbin. And I guess that’s where my obsession with BDSM came from, why I started reading everything I could get my hands on about it, and eventually, why I started writing down my own fantasies.”
He nods. “Very good, Vivian. A lot of people aren’t so cognizant of when they are being controlled. Whether they want to be or not.” I smile, sitting up a little straighter and glowing under his praise. “In the bedroom with Corbin, did he ever incorporate pain? Maybe not the sort of pain you’d associate with BDSM, like with tools and equipment, but—”
“Oh, for sure,” I interrupt, knowing what he means. “It wasn’t an every time sort of thing, but he definitely loved testing my tolerance. Whether it be nipple-play, or how roughly he took me. But he was always so careful. His concentration during those times… it’s like he was zeroed in on what I was feeling, not caring one bit about his own pleasure. He always brought me to that perfect line, where any further and I would have tapped out, but he never once took me past there. So perfect….” My face flushes as I realize my heated rambling. I glance at Dr. Walker, seeing he’s watching me closely, and it makes me fidget. But he puts me out of my misery by going back to the facts.
“Some survivors who get into BDSM say they have found the use of pain to help them experience sexual pleasure that is non-triggering.As I’m sure you’re aware, there is a very strong link between pleasure and pain. Pain releases endorphins and adrenaline, and when combined, it stimulates the body and creates a sense of euphoria. When a Dom uses pain alongside sexual stimulation, many survivors claim that the pleasurable feelings that follow the pain, and then the pleasurable feelings being associated with sex, has basically… reprogrammed their brain into remembering that sex is supposed to be a gratifying experience.
“Others have stated that pain within their trusting D/s relationship can help them remain focused on the present without being triggered. They don’t experience flashbacks or negative memories associated with sex, because the pain keeps them grounded, allowing them to stay in the here and now. So those people who had once reported sensuality feeling wrong because they associated it with their rape, they are now able to experience arousal without any of the negative connotations to that sensation, thanks to the pain,” he explains.
“Fascinating,” I breathe.
“But, on the other hand, unfortunately there are some survivors who state that they use physical pain to punish themselves for feeling aroused. Obviously, using pain in this way is unlikely to be healing, and can result in traumatizing the survivor even more after their original assault. Do you have anything to say about this?” he prompts.
“Me? Hell no. I don’t self-harm. I mean, I’m sure it’s not good for me that I stay locked away with no friends or human interaction, but I’m not into cutting or anything. Plus, I’m here to change that part. I figure if I spend all this money to join the club, I’ll be able to force myself to use my membership. Waste not, and all that,” I reply, and he smiles gently.
“Very good. There are two things left I want to talk about. The first, I’m not sure applies to you, but I know you’d like to hear it as research for your book. You seem like a gentle soul, Vivian. You’re timid and sweet natured. As I’ve stated many times, a natural submissive. It’s just part of your personality, who you are. But there are some people who find that expressing anger can be healing. Now, your assault was a one-time experience. So, like I said, this part might not apply to you as much. There are some survivors who were in abusive relationships. For whatever reason, they stayed with the person who would assault them over and over again. Most of these people learn to switch off their emotions during the situations as a way to protect their minds. And the one emotion they suppress the most, because it’s the most likely to get them hurt if they show it toward their abusive partner, is anger. To put it into perspective, what happened when you tried to fight Alan off?” he asks gently.
“He fought harder. He overpowered me. It pissed him off more that I wasn’t just lying there and taking it, so he got… rougher,” I state.
“Yes. So therefore, these victims, after being assaulted over and over again, they learn not to fight anymore. They learn to just lie there and take it, as you said. So, once they escape the relationship and get into BDSM, you can imagine what a relief it would be to be allowed to express all that anger they had trained themselves to swallow back,” he says, and I nod.
“Most definitely. But, I’m not sure what that has to do with BDSM,” I confess.
“A lot of survivors have reported feeling regretful, because they feel like they gave up, didn’t fight hard enough, or because they didn’t show how angry they were over being violated. Even though it wasn’t safe for them to do so. There is a scene that a Dom and sub in a proper BDSM relationship can act out that is very therapeutic for a submissive who has had to suppress anger. The sub finds themselves in a situation where they are being dominated, just like during their abuse, but this time, their Dom will allow them to express their anger at what is happening to them. This releases some of that anger they’ve had bottled up for so long, healing them in ways that never would’ve happened had they not gotten into BDSM,” Dr. Walker explains almost giddily.
“That’s a beautiful thing right there. I can totally see how it all works. But… I mean… is there something wrong with me that I don’t feel angry over what happened? I feel more… sad about it. Sad that it made me lose my husband. Sad that Alan did that to me, when I had only been trying to make sure he would be okay after drinking.”
“Vivian, I think you are angry about it, but you are so… good that you don’t even recognize the emotion. Do you feel like you were taken advantage of?” he prompts.
No hesitation. “Yes.”
“You were happily married to the love of your life. Are you angry you felt you had to lie to protect him, because this asshole forced himself on you?”
“I mean… it was my choice to lie.” I shrug.
“Vivian. He was your soul mate, you called him. And you’ve had to spend the last ten years without him, since this awful thing happened to you. How does that make you feel?”
“Sad. I’m sad I had to give him up,” I say, feeling confused, because that adjective just doesn’t fit right with what I’m experiencing.
“No, Vivian. What do you feel toward Alan? He took your husband away. You were living your happily ever after, and he took it away from you. What. Do. You. Feel?”
I search for the emotion inside me, never having been able to put my finger on it before, but with Dr. Walker trying to nudge me in the right direction, my sites finally lock on it, and as a tear trickles out of the corner of my eye, I breathe, “Pissed off, Doc. I feel pissed off. But I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Very good, Vivian. And that’s what we’re here for. We will teach you
what to do with that, so you can begin to heal. The scene I was telling you about, where the sub is able to express their anger, it can feel almost like rewriting the script of your past and help you to reestablish control. This scene only works though when the survivor is allowed to express their anger in a situation where they deem it permissible and understandable. Also, it cannot be done alone. There are some power plays done when the D and s are not together. He may tell her to do something over the phone while he’s at work, and then send proof through a picture, or what have you. But for this to work, the Dom should be present, ensuring there is someone who can bear witness to the survivor’s anger so that it is no longer hidden from everyone. It can help them to break the silence many individuals have found themselves trapped in. That, Vivian, applies to you. The opportunity to release anger can be a very cathartic and fulfilling experience, and can free you to deal with some of the other issues the abuse left you with,” he tells me, pointing at me with his pen before bringing it to rest against his full lips.
I fidget, uncomfortable with the idea of expressing anger. I’ve always been a quiet person. I don’t like drawing attention to myself. And letting anger out sounds… loud. “I think that’s something I’d have to build myself up to,” I say, and it pulls a smile out of him.
“Most definitely. But just know, if it happens at the club, you would not be judged. No one would even blink. The scene has been acted out many times. It’s actually very emotional and beautiful to watch. When it’s over, the sub is so peaceful it can bring a tear to the eye of even the most hardened of Dominants,” he says, as if from experience.
“I can imagine.” I smile.
“Okay, we have about ten minutes left, Vivian. The last thing I’d like to talk to you about today, which we can expand on if you come back, is the establishment of trust. This, I believe, is your biggest issue,” he states, and I nod.
“For sure,” I agree, settling in for the information I’m hoping he’s about to lay out for me. He doesn’t disappoint.
“Needless to say, for you and most survivors, your sense of trust has been demolished. With anyone, not just a sexual partner. But in intimate relationships, you struggle with establishing trust and a sense of safety. A proper BDSM relationship is built on trust. You might know the mantra of our community, ‘Safe, Sane, and Consensual.’ So when a survivor enters a D/s relationship, where the concept of that mantra is highly respected, it can be a very positive, healing experience. In a safe and loving BDSM relationship, the partners talk about the rules regarding their sexual play in a way that many people in non-BDSM relationships do not. Think about it. In your relationship with Corbin, were you verbal about the things you did and did not like in the bedroom?” he asks.
“Yes. He was always very verbal during our lovemaking. He made sure when we tried something new to go slow and test my tolerance. He would stop to ask me if something felt good before continuing and taking it further,” I reply, my tummy filling with butterflies at the memories.
“Now, since he’s the only experience you have with consensual sex, think about the non-BDSM books you’ve read. Do those partners do a lot of talking during the sex scenes? Does the hero completely make sure that the heroine is okay with something before he does it?” he prompts.
“No, not really. They just go for it and hope for the best, I guess.” I laugh.
“Exactly. So, in a D/s relationship, the sub has complete control over what happens, and their Dom knows what is off limits. In a proper and loving BDSM partnership, the sub can be assured that their Dom will stick to the rules, and they can let go and trust them. Survivors can find it therapeutic to be involved in a relationship that has such strict rules, and as long as these guidelines are followed to a T, it can lead to an increased sense of trust between partners. It can also create a sense of trust in themselves and with the world around them, allowing the sub to finally come out of their shell and establish friendships they might not have had before.” He places his notepad and pen on his side table, then leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together.
“Now that… that I look forward to. When the hell do I do that part?” I giggle.
“Well, the next step in your initiation is getting with your sponsor to establish your guidelines. So, guess what?” He grins.
“What?” My eyes widen.
“As early as tonight is when the hell you do that part.” He winks, and my heart thuds in my chest.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
“Yep.” He stands and holds out his hand for me to shake.
With no hesitation this time, I place my hand in his, gaining comfort as it wraps around my much smaller one before he releases me and gestures toward the door. I really like Dr. Walker. I feel like I can talk to him about absolutely anything without judgment, and I plan on coming back for weekly sessions. Now, that may possibly change if I ever run into him at Club Alias. I don’t know how I’d feel about seeing my therapist acting out a BDSM scene, and then turning around and seeing him with his shrink hat back in place. Or vice versa. I have no idea if it would be weird to see him in this setting after he sees me naked. But I guess I’ll soon find out.
“I HAVEN’T…” Her sexy little body adjusts in her seat, and I can see clear as day how embarrassed she is about her next statement. It’s one I’ve replayed countless times just to hear the words leave her perfect lips. “I haven’t had sex since that night. I’ve been in relationships, and when it would finally come time to be intimate, as soon as they’d put their hands on me, I’d freak the fuck out, leave, and fall off the face of the planet. Never talk to the person ever again.”
“You haven’t had intercourse in ten years?” Doc asks, his normally stoic and straight face faltering for a fraction of a second. I’d nearly choked the first time I watched the footage.
“Correct,” my Vivian confirms, and I’m so overwhelmed with the swirling emotions inside me that it makes me feel almost faint.
But the one thing I can focus on—Alan. When I murder him, I’ll go back to being the only person on the planet who has ever been inside Vi.
I pick up my phone and dial Seth.
“What’s up?” he answers after the second ring.
“I have a job,” I state, and a wicked grin spreads across my face.
AS ALWAYS, I feel her presence like a physical thing. It’s like as soon as we get within a certain distance of each other, my body knows we’re breathing the same air. I see her lithe form come up the stairs at the front of the club from my perch on the second floor by the office entrance, and she stands there, looking around the circular room like she has no idea where to go. Or maybe she’s trying to decide if she’s going to stay or run. I gave her specific instructions to meet me, or “Seven,” at the third reserved booth to her left.
I breathe a sigh of relief as she moves, making her way to our table, and that’s when I head down the stairs. I tell myself to slow down, take my time. Don’t be too eager to get to her. She’s supposed to be just another sub to you. I approach the booth just as she’s pulling her bag from across her shoulder, setting it beside her on the cushioned bench. She jumps a little when she looks up and sees me.
“H-hey, Seven,” she stutters shyly, pushing her hair behind her ear, her cheeks a pretty shade of pink.
“Good evening, V,” I tell her, remembering to use the nickname Seth calls her. “Are you ready for your first lesson in submission?”
“Yes and no,” she answers nervously but honestly, and I smile behind my mask. “I don’t really know what to expect.”
I take a seat across from her, placing my elbows on the table and gripping my hands loosely together. “This will be way easier than it usually is for me. With your knowledge of BDSM from your research for your books, you actually do know what to expect. You will just be experiencing it yourself for the first time.”
She fidgets in her seat. “Seven, I should warn you. I’m not used to people touch—”
She nods. “I do.”
“Good.” I stand from the booth and hold out my hand to her. “Shall we?”
She looks at my hand and then does something that makes my heart pang. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, lets it out, takes one more lungful… and dynos. Her tiny hand slips into mine as she opens those beautiful green eyes, looking up to the slits in my hood, even though I know she can’t see mine clearly. She reaches behind her with her free hand and grabs her bag before standing, and I lace my fingers through hers.
“Very good, my sweet,” I murmur, pulling her closer to me. I lift my other hand to push a strand of hair back that has fallen on her face, and she blushes, sucking in a breath of air. “You’re already doing so well.” She swallows and nods, and I make a mental note to be very verbal in my praise. She’ll need the reassurance to get past her hatred of being touched. It makes me hate her rapist even more. My baby girl, unable to stand the feel of anyone’s hands on her for a decade. Not even the innocence of someone hugging her, or the friendly gesture of someone squeezing her shoulder for a job well done. But at the same time, for selfish reasons, it makes me happy no one else has been able to get their hands on Vi. I just hate that it makes her feel so uncomfortable when someone unknowingly puts her through it.