I’ve been trying to write an article about writing BDSM, and so I’ve been doing thinking as of late about my relationship with BDSM. For example, why exactly *do* I enjoy letting someone tie me to a X-cross in a sex dungeon and beat me? As one wonders if one likes such a thing. I came up with some thoughts that I felt might fit on this blog as a post, so here it goes. Future blog post about writing BDSM in fiction to follow at another time.

There’s a sort of stereotype I’ve encountered from people who don’t know any better that people who like BDSM (bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism) are damaged in some way. In particular, women like myself who like to be submissive. That we’ve endured some kind of trauma in childhood (or adulthood) that makes us broken, so we need to express that with ‘deviant’ sex lives as adults. I have no trauma, something I’ve eye-rollingly explained to a few people who wanted to know what issues drove me to this dark and disturbed pastime. I had a mostly happy childhood, have no daddy issues, my parents are happily married, and no one ever hurt me. This confuses people who then want to know, well, why DO you like all these kinky things then?

The answer really is as simple as, “It’s fun.” I like the adrenaline rush, endorphins, anticipation, thrills, and passion of it all. I’m horny and someone holding me down (in the right context) turns me on. But I realized something a little deeper than that lately that adds to my enjoyment: I get to be free. Ironic, since ropes, shackles, and chains are usually involved.

What I mean by “I get to be free” is that as someone who’s autistic, I have to control myself a lot. There’s a social coping technique used by a lot of autistics (whether consciously or subconsciously) called masking that I have a decent handle on, where you put on a front to the world and hide all the quirks that make you seem neurodivergent as to not upset the neurotypicals around you. No covering your eyes to shut it all out if you’re overwhelmed, no happy flapping your arms, no bouncing your leg up and down, no rambling on favored topics or special interests. Mimic the people around you so you can pass as normal and make people like you, or at least be willing to tolerate you. Make eye contact; give people you don’t know hugs to avoid confrontation as to why you’re not comfortable with it. Over the years, I’ve internalized so much of masking that it’s hard to undo and figure out what’s really me underneath it all. I still have my stims (self-stimulation behaviors such as fidgeting), but I feel the need to hide them in most company that’s not accustomed to me.

In BDSM scenes the way I’ve been lucky enough to experienced them, I don’t have to repress myself. I can scream when something hurts – in fact, it’s encouraged rather than repressed. There’s nothing more cathartic than being told, “I want to hear you scream.” It’s sexy because I’m into that kind of power play, but it also allows me freedom to react instinctually, and I can’t get enough of it. Someone wants me to be me. If I want to thrash against my restraints or press my face against the spanking bench I’m tied to, no one tells me not to. When there’s pleasure, I’m allowed to moan and tremble. I’m allowed to surrender to it however I like, to lean into a dominant’s touch and say that yes, I do love it. That I crave more, or that it’s too much. I can have my eyes blindfolded so I don’t need to deal with looking anyone in the eye and just focus on the experiences.

And, in all of this, even though I’m giving up power to someone else, I always have control. With safe words and pre/post scene discussions, I say what goes and how much of it. No one is telling me that I have to endure anything I don’t want to if something is too uncomfortable or overwhelming, different from in real life where autistics are told to endure things or denied accommodations because a neurotypical doesn’t get what the problem is – not dissimilar to a bad dominant who thinks safe words are suggestions and is too wrapped up in their own experience to care for their submissive.

I’m certain I’m not the only person who feels this way, who finds that release and freedom in losing control, but I do think that being autistic has a heavy hand in it for me. I wouldn’t suggest it for everyone, of course. It’s a specific taste, and there’s way more to enjoying it than having a certain neurology. But, for me, this is my experience and why BDSM is the perfect outlet for me as an autistic woman. Hope my musings amused!

Are you autistic? Do you have a similar experience with BDSM? Leave a comment! If you liked this post, give a like, comment, and follow for more content and check me out on twitter at @EternalEvelyn or Facebook. Stay tuned for information on my upcoming paranormal romance novel, The Bloodline Chronicles: Witch’s Knight! Subscribe to my newsletter to keep up with new developments here.