Control | The Horny Post | 2/28/24 (Patreon)

Being submissive is the ultimate form of control. You decide who you give the power to. When you're a bottom you are the most powerful one in the room. "But Boiwifey, don't you want men to dominate you?" Oh, yes. Most certainly. But the last few years of my life have been a lesson in the nature of submission.

This goes far beyond sex. My mother always says to me that I "Hate not being in control." I thought she was wrong because of how I wish to give control away to a man. But it is only now that I understand my own feelings. "To give." Control is not something to be taken. it is something to give. I want to give, willingly, control of my body and my mind. That is in itself a form of control. When it is my choice it is all the more beautiful. Submission is art and the act of giving control is the prettiest phase. The tenderness and trust of the act is something to behold. I understand that now. I spent so long thinking I wanted to be taken. To be used by surprise. When I acted out those desires they were unfulfilling. I comprehend why I found no enjoyment in letting myself be taken. While yes, I did let my control be taken, I did not give that control. And that soured the experiences and turned them into rot. 

Outside of the sexual world I am a very domineering person. You may not get that vibe from my content, but I can assure it is true. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you. I will not be told what to do or how to think. When someone tries to control my very being, who I am, I grab the reins of self-agency and tug with might. I absolutely refuse to be told how to think. 

For an example, my ex I have talked about at length exerted her control of me frequently. When she did not like I dressed she would mock me. When I did not shave my facial hair she would make subtle hostile remarks about it. When I expressed ideas that challenged her beliefs I would be shut down. She wanted me to be like her, to think like her. To take control of my very mind and curve into a suitable direction. There was no room for free thought from a person who loved me telling how my very mode of being was inherently wrong. The control she exerted drove me to the brink. It only makes sense we broke up.

In another example, people I once called my friends would exert their ideas of how I should act. Judging me for not complying with the social norms. Acting "off" but harmlessly was a call to wrangle me into a social throat hold. How dare I run and skip around a college campus! How dare I speak of sex in a public place! How dare I lament the pain of a morbid tragedy. How dare I not want to kill all the Republicans! (Yes, one  "friend" was so extreme that me not wanting to literally kill conservative people was justification to slander me in a public place.) I did not fit in with the socio-political-economical consensus of this former friend group. And to me, that difference was an opportunity to learn new perspectives. But to them, it was a chance to ostracize. They were all from the American middle-class and I was from the American lower-class and our ideas of the world were very different. I was messier both in the literal sense and the class sense. Unrefined. I would not call them snobs, but by comparison they sure felt like ones sometimes. They felt it, perhaps unconsciously , that they needed to homogenize me into their way of thinking. We shared the trait of being queer and that was why I was accepted as part of the group to begin with. Their intolerance of my otherness reached a breaking point where I felt I could not be around them. The constant maintenance they sent on my behavior was too much! The final straw was when they decided to ignore a literal pedophile's actions so they could continue to be friends with them and one in particular hated me for not accepting this person. The need to control me nearly broke my fragile psyche.

It must be said that there is a chance that I overreact to modern examples. That due to my experience of being controlled I am primed to see the bad in people who suggest an altercation of correction of any of my actions. This very post was emotionally motivated by someone in my life heavily demanding that I change one of my thumbnails for a recent audio because people might think the character is under 18. Let it be said the character is an adult and a representation of me and I am 22. All the feeling of friends and a loved one trying to change me flooded in like a fire ablaze. Suddenly, I am transported back to college and I am the same scared little boy I was back then. A boy who must fight back. Backed into a corner scratching at wolfs. 

I will not be controlled unless it is given. Control is a state to be gifted and cherished and not taken. I won't be controlled unless I say I will be. I will find my own way in life and try to avoid hurting people in the process. I think that is the best any of us can do. Now, onto looking for someone to give control to...