When things get a little out of control in my life, I crave power sexually. Crave that rush that I get when someone’s body struggles and gives in, gives over.
I’ve been craving power lately, like a drug, a junkie needing a fix. My fantasies are getting increasingly harsh and occasionally violent, which sometimes scares me. Sex acts alone don’t seem to be enough to get me off. And since I got a Pure Wand from one of my favorite sex toy stores, and since Kristen moved to my neighborhood, I’ve been getting off a lot more in general. I’ve wanted a good g-spot insertable that is not a cock; as my own cockcentric sexuality has developed I have been more averse to being fucked by a cock, but I still do enjoy that feeling of being filled, of squeezing tight around something, of straining to open.
But: back to power. I feel it from my fantasies and it rushes through me, I feel it coursing in my veins, muscles, tendons, bones. I want to feel strong, crave it, want to feel invincible, indestructible, like I can do anything, have anyone, take anyone down.
While getting off the other night, I let my mind wander. Scary when I do this, sometimes, for the dark places it goes. I ask myself, why is that hot? Why does that ‘do it’ for me, when so many other things don’t?
Power is sexy.
When did those wires get crossed in me? I watch and observe the ways that I am built, deep, where I allow myself to be overridden, to be rewritten, where I allow myself to get overwhelmed by the outside world, empath that I am I cannot help but to take it all in, and sometimes I crave so deeply to push back, draw thick lines around myself shut out the world. And lately – the past few years – that has manifested in sex as my topping, my desire to control, coerce, force, overpower, take, split open, break down.
And when things feel out of control, I crave it all the more.
I question the health of this, at times. But I am nothing if not extremely, extremely careful, cautious – overcautious in fact, overanalytical and overobservant, paying so much attention to others that sometimes I forget to pay attention to myself. And that’s why I crave this kind of play: situations that we construct, consensually, in order to explore power. Because just as I crave to take, control, overpower, so does someone else seek to be taken, to be controlled, to be overpowered.
There’s nothing really to say about the Pure Wand that hasn’t already been said. It’s one of the most coveted sex toys out there – ask any sex blogger and they’ll swoon over it a little. It’s beautiful, sleek and heavy, made of solid stainless steel. The weight of it in my hand (and in my cunt) makes me feel more grounded, more solid, more rooted to the earth. And I need that right now. Perhaps it’s the vibrant brightness of midsummer’s long, long, endless days that makes me feel exposed, like the spotlight is shining on me, like I’m being burned to light instead of my feet in the dark thick mud of the earth, that creative, nurturing soil where life is made, where strength and power flows freely.
I crave it. Desire it. Want it, need it.
A beautiful book I was reading yesterday deconstructed the word “want” a little, explaining that to be in a state of wanting is to always be in a state of inadequacy, of incompleteness, of unsatisfaction. The author was specifically discussing how to state intentions around the creative process and tapping into a spiritual source, and the ways that intention actually communicates with energy and manifests reality. I love this idea, and I do understand the ways the concept of “want” puts us in a state of less-than, of not-whole. And while I do also crave that state of wholeness, this feeling of deep desire that arises in my belly when I start to feel the power rising in me is at times intoxicating, and I wouldn’t want to give that up. But perhaps instead of feeling like that puts me in a state of desire and want and thus inadequacy, maybe I can think of it as being in a state of power, of control, of strength. Revisioning that, just ever-so-slightly, means that I become what I am to be, instead of wishing I was in another state.
Because perhaps I have already arrived.