Today, I’ve decided to write about a topic that often comes up in the introductory BDSM workshops I teach.
Sometimes, when people sign up, I ask them a few questions so I can tailor the content around their main interests. That’s when I start to notice recurring patterns, common doubts, and so on.
One of these questions is meant to uncover exactly that: what’s the main concern on the minds of those entering this world of unconventional practices. And I always find their answers fascinating. Fear of not being “good enough” or of not being a “good” submissive/dominant is common (allow me to be a bit reductive here so I don’t have to unpack the long list of roles that go beyond this binary). Some express it by saying they don’t know what’s expected of them; others say they want to learn the proper behaviour to be a “good” submissive; and others fear getting nervous and not meeting the expectations of the person they’ll be playing with.
At this point, I like to share with my workshop participants an anecdote I experienced a few years ago that stuck with me. I was at a BDSM club in Barcelona, sitting among a variety of profiles, taking a moment to hydrate and smoke before getting back into the action. We were talking about topics related to sadism and pain thresholds when someone said: “So-and-so can take a lot of pain — she’s one of the best submissive there is.”
I don’t quite remember how the conversation went on, but those words still echo in my head. According to that statement, to be a good submissive you have to “take a lot,” meaning you need to have a very high pain threshold or endure whatever pain your play partner gives you — even if it’s not pleasurable, and quite the opposite.
For those of you who’ve been around for a while, this nonsense probably doesn’t surprise you much. Unfortunately, there are plenty of people out there who haven’t understood anything about BDSM. But newcomers don’t know that, and every time they run into one of these ignorants, at best, they risk spending a few days feeling confused.
“Enduring” is a word that has always grated on me. More than one masochist I’ve met has said it to me, and it has quite the “libido killer” effect. “I can take a lot of pain,” they’ll tell me proudly, expecting me to start pulling out my arsenal of torture tools. I don’t want you to endure anything, I reply — especially when we already spend our lives enduring the office jerk, the sexist neighbour, and the endless parade of unpleasant people who insist on hanging around, pushing the limits of our patience.
Recently, someone told me that for her, “enduring pain” was a sign of devotion and a source of pleasure. That pleasure came from knowing I was enjoying my sadistic side, from knowing she could give me that particular kind of excitement I feel when my whip lands again and again on someone’s body. Here we step into the very complex territory of consent, and I invite you to explore this wheel that has greatly helped me evolve my own reflections on it.
Little Fish — a workshop assistant a colleague recently lent me — likes to add when I tell this story: “I don’t feel any special pleasure in running errands for my Mistress on a Monday morning, but I don’t mind doing it either.” Is it the same thing? Can we put in the same category a submissive who runs a few errands for their Dominant and one who spends a couple of hours experiencing a rather high level of pain?
Back to the original question: What makes someone a “good” submissive?
For me, a good submissive should have (or want to develop) certain qualities and values that are important to you. These traits, like many other things in BDSM, aren’t exclusive to our kinky world — they’re often the same ones we value in other relationship dynamics. For me, it’s extremely important that the people I interact with do their best to ensure we have good communication. The closer, more intense, and more intimate a relationship is, the more I need it — both in my conventional life and in my perverted spaces.
Another requirement I have for my play partners is that they pay attention to discovering their own limits and find a way to communicate them to me as clearly as possible. Again, this isn’t something that’s only important in BDSM, but it takes on extra significance here because we engage in practices that carry more risk than those in our vanilla lives.
If I think about the “perfect” Dominant, I’d mention the same qualities and add a few more: empathy, responsibility, and humility — all personality traits I deeply admire and value in my close relationships, whether they involve sharing whiplashes or doing activism for housing rights.
I’d almost dare to say, to wrap up my little rant, that a “good” BDSM practitioner is, to me, simply a good person. And I don’t mean “good” as in generous or kind, but in the sense of embodying the ideals we think of when we imagine someone admirable — our role model, the person we strive to be so we can have a good image of ourselves.
So, what makes a good person for you? I encourage you to make a list of their qualities and personality traits — it’ll give you more clues for recognising a good submissive or Dominant.
Let’s ease up a bit on our perfectionism and remember that we’re here to enjoy and grow, to know ourselves and connect with others, after all. Don’t you think?
Hugs!
Nara 💋
Image: Montorgueil, Bernard. Extract from the book Le chevalet de Madame de Brandes. De la pénétration psychologique en matière d’éducation. L’invertie convertie