Not to be mistaken with the typical femme, the "hard femme" describes herself as "queer", is political, looks more feminine than masculine, and if prompted, can kick some serious ass. She doesn't need to "wear the pants" in a relationship- the hard femme rules with a dress. She not only despises the gender binary, she works to dismantle it.
This "hardness" to me is something that also translates into my relationships, namely connections forged through BDSM practices. I've identified as a Domme for many years, and in the past few years have identified more as a Hedonist. Both labels feel accurate, and are not mutually-exclusive. Most people on the BDSM spectrum tend to identify either Dominant or submissive, with some folk in the middle identifying as switches.
It's interesting to note that I am one of the 8% of women who's preference (and this is the key word here) is for Dominant roles. I feel more comfortable, confident, and present in this role. I feel that I am able to wield power - both physically and mentally/emotionally. For anyone who has seen me in a scene, you will know what I'm talking about. I find Domming to be very empowering, fun, sexy, and fulfilling. I get to make people's desires/fantasies happen. And that is a very intensely rewarding thing!
BDSM is still a very misunderstood lifestyle/sexual paradigm for most people. It's contradictory in that it seems mostly localized to Western culture, and yet, its highly stigmatized by that culture. Many people liken BDSM to physical abuse. There is a wide gulf between the two however, and this infographic demonstrates this well:
A former friend of mine once "accused" me of being Dominant as a "way to get back at the men who sexually abused me in the past." This is, unfortunately, a very common preconception that men have of Dominant women (or women who engage in BDSM at all). In fact, BDSM provides a container for abuse survivors to safely explore and heal from past assaults. In fact, a 2013 study showed that people who engage in BDSM practices are mentally healthier and more well-adjusted than people who didn't "play."
In the past, most of my play partners were cis-male and the connections lasted from 1 time to many months. I really enjoyed playing with men, especially in the Dominant position. Nothing like crushing a man under a pair of spiked heels. Now, my main play partner is genderqueer, poly; and we've been engaged in D/s on some level for the past 4 years. I consider this person to be a non-primary partner, friend, part of my chosen family, and confidante. For the purposes of this blog, I'll call them Birdfriend.
Birdfriend and I have engaged in many types of D/s play over the years. Our play can be verbal, physical, devotional, or some combination of all three elements. Our connection is complex, nuanced, challenging, dynamic, fun, transformative, supportive, and empathetic. Above all, we are there for each other. This becomes heightened in play space, where my main task as Domme is to care for the needs of my sub - before, during, and after the scene. However, because I live with chronic pain, and because certain D/s activities cause me to incur pain, my Birdfriend must also take care of me as well - especially after the scene ends. Massage, sauna, and sometimes medication and water are needed to help me deal with any post-scene physical discomfort, and to avoid the pitfalls of Domdrop.
My relationship to pain is incredibly complex. I live with chronic pain (due to car accidents) on some level on a daily basis, and it flares up with rapid barometric changes, wrong types of activities (too much flogging!) incessant computer work, holding anything above my head for any length of time....you get the idea. I acknowledge that I have some residual sexual assault trauma in my head, but I feel that it's minimal. And, I also enjoy certain painful sensations - the feeling of burning hot wax poured on my skin, being bitten hard on my neck, nails scratched down my back, hair pulled, etc. When playing in a D/s context, I walk a fine line between flying high and hurting like hell.
Because chronic pain keeps me from playing heavily when it flares up, I try to incorporate little snippets of D/s into my communications and time together with the Birdfriend. I use power exchange more, and try to give my arms/hands (and sometimes feet) a break from wielding a whip or a paddle. My words can become a whip, my voice can become as hard as a paddle. I try to also be more spontaneous and authentic in my play connections and avoid scripting out a scene too much. Allowing for improvisation has really helped me cope with having chronic pain while trying to emit my Big Bad Domme vibe. Here's a link to a really great VICE article that goes deeper into what its like to play and live with disability.
I also engage in some D/s play with my primary partner, whom I shall refer to as Bear. In our relationship, we switch roles, but the tendency has been for me to be more submissive than dominant with him. Bear is the first cis-man who I have been comfortable submitting to (with a lot of resistance and bratty behaviour for good measure) in my adult life. He is patient, caring, and a great Daddy. I enjoy when he submits, because I get such a thrill from dominating a man so much bigger than me. D/s isn't as much as a focal point in our relationship the way it is with my Birdfriend. But that makes sense considering that I can do things with Birdfriend that I cannot do with Bear because he's not interested. That, is the beauty of poly right there.
I'll write more about poly in my next post....
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