How BDSM Taught Me To Finally Enjoy Sex

When I was in university, I was crushing hard on a guy in my literature class. He was quiet, smelled of smoke — and judging from his T-shirts, was a metal-head. One day I was having a party because my parents were out of town, and since I went to a small arts campus I invited the whole class. To my pleasant surprise, he showed up, and we spent the night playing drinking games. He flashed me his nipple ring, and I was hooked. The next morning, I woke up in a haze and with him in my bed. The rest of that year, we were inseparable.

We made out in classrooms. We made out in bars. We made out in cabs home from the bar. To be honest, most of that year I was drunk — I even wrote a paper at his place after coming back from the pub. And it was probably this intoxication that made our otherwise tumultuous relationship seem so exciting. When we weren’t drinking and having sex we were fighting, or I was trying to get him to return my calls. But while I wasn’t the model student and I had more orgasms than read textbooks, I learned a lot about myself: That I never wanted another toxic relationship like that again (even though I had plenty more) — and that I was into a lot of kinky shit.

Being raised in a Catholic family and going to Catholic school didn’t provide much sex education other than being told not to do it — so growing up I was always a tease who would makeout with guys for hours, pushing away their wandering hands and sending them on their way out my window. My high school sweetheart and I didn’t have sex for several months because he was so nervous — unless you count anal for all that time. But it probably should have been telling about what I liked when I had sex my first time with a mall cop — and then sort of cheated on my high school sweetheart with that mall cop when we went on a break. I didn’t realize it at the time, but sex was going to be so much more exciting than letting a guy jackhammer me.

Mall cop guy wasn’t that good in bed, and I didn’t even find him that attractive — but the fact that he had handcuffs was enough to keep me coming back for more. I had this fantasy that I would show up at the mall wearing a slutty black dress, and he would come up behind me and tell me that I was in trouble and he needed to teach me a lesson. Then he’d take me into a private room, handcuff me and have his way with me. But that never happened — I just fucked him on his single bed in his parents’ house — and then my single bed in my parents’ house, and then his single bed in his bachelor apartment. I thought that I kept seeing him throughout the years because I had my first time with him — but thinking back on it, it was the way he talked down to me while we were having sex. It did something to me that I couldn’t explain.

I tried replicating this with future partners — but the only time it would happen was when I was with assholes who were trying to persuade me to let them fuck me — speaking softly into my ear, telling me what they wanted to do to me as they kissed my neck. As I moved towards guys who treated me with more respect, I didn’t know how to tell them what I wanted in bed — because I hadn’t fully understood it myself yet.

When I met the metal-head from university, he opened my eyes to so many things I didn’t know I liked. He would hold my arms down while he fucked me and say that I needed to be quiet — and when I started to moan he would cover my mouth and tell me that I couldn’t cum until he told me to. Normally I would never be turned on by a guy telling me what to do — but because it was for my pleasure, I was able to let my guard down. None of it made me feel like he was being an asshole — it was an unspoken consent that we both understood.

Once he asked me to slap him while we were having sex. I was taken aback, because I didn’t want to hurt him. I did it a few times lightly, and it was fun. But then something ignited inside me and I asked him to do it to me — which changed everything. The hot sting on my cheek opened up a whole new world of possibilities: Spanking, biting, hair pulling. I never knew pain could feel so relieving.

To be clear, I’ve never been someone who felt the urge to self harm. And yes, I’ve been abused, but I wasn’t acting out by being slapped. It’s a fact that people have a higher threshold for pain during sex, and for me it just makes sex that much more intense. Some people think that BDSM is weird and that there must be something wrong with you if you’re into it — but for me, being submissive and masochistic just feels good in the same way that being with women also feels good.

Whenever I heard about BDSM before, the first thing that always came to my mind was leather and ball gags and men hanging from the roof — which is all fine if you’re into that sort of thing. But I never knew that it could mean letting go mentally. As someone who always feels the need to be in control, trusting someone enough so that I’m able to give up that control in the bedroom is the most amazing feeling there is.

Something that people don’t understand — and I certainly didn’t for the longest time — is that being submissive in the bedroom doesn’t mean letting your partner do whatever they want to you. I’ve had guys think that being dominant meant they could tell me what to do and that I would have to do it — and it led to being uncomfortable at best and traumatized at worst. That’s not at all how BDSM works. Being dominant means being in control of your partner’s pleasure — not the other way around. So everything the dom is doing is to make the sub feel good — just in a way that makes the sub feel like they’re able to let their guard down.

Before someone is thinking of getting into BDSM, it’s important to get to know your partner well — what they like, what they don’t like, their boundaries, their triggers, etc. So, for example, if the dom knows their partner likes having their hair pulled and likes giving head, they could pull their hair gently toward them, encouraging them towards their dick. If they say no, then it’s a no. And depending on how the sub feels, some days it could be a yes.

I think a lot of guys mistake being dominant for what they see on mainstream porn: When the guy grabs his partner’s head and pushes it onto their cock. But even before that scene there’s communication and consent about what’s going to happen. It takes a lot of dialogue between partners before someone is able to pull out whips and paddles.

While it didn’t work out with the guy from university, I learned a lot about what I want in bed from that relationship — but I still didn’t understand how to voice my needs in the bedroom until almost 6 years later. As women, we’re told by society that men’s needs come first — and that’s hard to shake even in the bedroom. I was often worried that I would be perceived as bossy or selfish if I said what I wanted and didn’t want during sex. But what’s wrong with being direct about wanting your needs met? Can you think of any men who have been shy about that in the bedroom?

People are often scared of the word BDSM — but that’s just the stigma of giving into your desires. BDSM gave me the ability to let go for the first time in my life. Through trial and error I’ve learned how to be vocal of my pleasure and my boundaries in the bedroom, so that these days I’m having the best sex of my life — spanking, hair pulling, or just missionary depending on the day.