The Manchurian Candy-date

“Do you realize, Comrade, the implications of the weapon that has been placed at your disposal?……His brain has not only been washed, as they say, it’s been dry-cleaned.”
Doctor Yen Lo
The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
It’s always been the thrill of the chase where I got my adrenaline rush.  If I could easily attract a man, I didn’t want him. It was always that forbidden fruit, the one that was just out of reach was the one I wanted.  The distant, distracted, “hard-to-get”, down right disinterested guy.  Ohhhhhhh… there’s my candy.   That’s where I set my sights.   Put quite simply,  if it’s a man’s intellectual complexity that piques my interest, it was the power exchange that kept it.  How boring indeed would it be to color neatly  in the lines, follow all the rules.   Ah, but to attempt a coup d’etat! To usurp the power.  And that’s what I always did.
The mind fuck has been and probably always will be at the center of what drew me to D/s.  Our brain is the largest sex organ we own.  It needs to be stated that for my mind to be tapped into, I knew I would need to find a worthy adversary.  A Dominant I surmised, that could perhaps surpass my own intellect and psychological savoir faire.  A Napalm lover that had the power to blow my fucking mind with the possibility of me sustaining damage drew me like a moth to a flame.
Back when I was living that lifestyle, I was surrounded by a community of people who believed that BDSM was some kind of higher evolution.  That the lifestyle was sort of a more evolved way of being.  Practically proclaiming to be near the pinnacle of Maslow’s hierarchy of self-actualization for fucks sake.   That through the lifestyle, this “deeper” level of intimacy and trust can be achieved; a richer bonding experience takes place than in a vanilla relationship can possibly bring to fruition.   Almost sounded cult-y if you weren’t already entrenched in it.
It took me a few years on a therapist couch to discover that most of these blokes are re-enacting their own trauma histories, myself included.   Most of the Dominants I find, have childhoods riddled with victimization of merciless bullying at the hands of their peers and/or sadistic caregivers.  I also found that most Dominants have major control issues which is why they need to be the one in the position of power wielding the crop, cane, flogger, or paddle.  You won’t find them being hog-tied, bound, or otherwise put inro a position where they will be made vulnerable.  Submissives paradoxically, are the ones who are more inherently dominant, they are the ones who are more risk takers, able to be bound, caged, suspended, lit on fire, clamped, whipped et cetera.   It’s not about trust, they have brass balls.
But knowing all this information is useless.
Because at 3:00 AM on some idle Tuesday, when I received a text from my ex-Dom months after he dumped me, my addict mind kicks into overdrive.  Just like Raymond Shaw, hypnotically I place the clover leafs on my tits, grab my dildo and lube it up, as I  instantly become his anal whore again, screaming to no one, to the empty space around me, as I cum for him, “Ohhh..Daddy! Daddy!I love you!”  just as like taught me to do.
Maybe my brain has been dry cleaned.
Where are those hired goons who grab you in the middle of the night and throw you in a van to an undisclosed location to de-program your ass?  Oh yeah, that’s right that was the 70’s.   Now  you go to Church basements and find 12 step meetings and work the steps.   Shit, nothing says love like hired goons.   And it sounds so much fucking easier~

2 responses to “The Manchurian Candy-date

  1. Totally agree with your comment, “a community of people who believed that BDSM was some kind of higher evolution.” I was getting weary of and moving away from the “lifestyle” and the people that would take it sooooo fucking seriously even before I got into recovery. My last “relationship” was a vanilla one (but by no means a healthy one) and was the most sexually fulfilling relationship I had ever had. I used to think that it was impossible for me to be satisfied without some kind of kink in the bedroom. Not knocking bdsm or the people that practice it, but I’m not sure that I will ever really fit into that world again.


    • The longer I stayed in therapy, the less likely I felt I could realisically stay in D/s. As you say live and let live, whatever blows yer skirt back….but for me staying connected into that, keeps me bound to my addiction..


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