Submissive Rough

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Submissive Rough
The Psychology Behind Submissive Fantasies: Do Women REALLY Want To Be Ravished?
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By Adam Sheck — Written on May 19, 2017
As a psychologist and couples counselor, I’ve been asked this question by men, women, and couples for the last twenty years. My specialty is helping couples bring back the passion in their relationship and using fantasy is one way of doing this .
And the fantasy of being ravished, being lovingly, yet forcefully taken by her man is consistently in the top five female fantasies, often the number one fantasy. This is different than the “rape fantasy” which has often been misrepresented .
Of course, women don’t want to be raped; this is an act of violence and power, not one of love . However, as revealed in the always popular romance novels, the fantasy of a strong, powerful man initiating sex with a woman, not accepting her initial reluctance, and then loving her passionately, is a popular fantasy. This is not about abuse and power, as in most of these novels (and fantasies), the couple ends up married and living “happily ever after.”
So what’s the truth here, at least from a psychological perspective? When we first meet someone we’re attracted to we experience that initial chemistry and go into that “honeymoon” period, where our bodies are flooded with chemicals and we are “walking hormones.” 
However, this initial chemistry fades over time and we need to take steps to reignite it! To create sexual passion , there needs to be sexual tension and for this, there needs to be strong sexual polarity. We need to consciously create this in our relationship.
Polarity comes from strong masculine energy meeting strong feminine energy. Just like the positive and negative terminals of a battery create electricity, so will the masculine and feminine interact to create passion! Now each of us, male and female have an inner masculine and an inner feminine and either sex can express either aspect.
For the heterosexual female “ravish me” fantasy though, we’re talking about the man embodying the masculine and taking charge with those masculine qualities to be focused, direct, relentless in pursuing his goal, in this case, loving his woman into “submission.” This can range from simply initiating sex, to be a little more assertive than usual, to being more aggressive, to being a little “rough,” all the way to role play and using restraints and sex toys .
To use a simple example, I’m 6’3" and over 200 pounds and have found that many woman have simply enjoyed the weight of my body pressing into them and found that arousing. Perhaps that is enough to begin your journey. I also happen to have large hands (no euphemism here). I’m usually able to hold both of a woman’s wrists in one of my hands and even that small step can often be assertive enough to feed into the submission fantasy. Just consider what YOU can do to orient yourself in that direction, it doesn’t have to be “whips and chains.”
From an evolutionary psychology perspective, women want to know that their man can take care of them, can “hold” them, both emotionally AND physically.
I have a female friend who is close to six feet tall and she LOVES that her husband can physically hold her, pick her up, engulf her and make her feel like she’s a little girl sometimes.
If we believe that “form follows function” than if a man can open a woman sexually with his dominance than perhaps he can also metaphorically open her heart with his dominance. Perhaps there is part of each woman who wants to have her heart ravaged open, even more than her body? Don’t we all want our partner to help open our heart and experience more love?
Now on the flip side, there are times when a man enjoys his partner initiating sex in a more dominant and aggressive way as well. Being stuck in ANY role will ultimately diminish passion. We need to mix it up. But that’s a topic for another day
These are my thoughts about this question, “Do women want to be submissive?” I would love to hear your thoughts and comments about this and any other ideas for bringing back the passion in relationships.
If this article interested you and you’d like to find out more ways to bring the passion back in your relationship, please go to www.freepassiontips.com to receive my monthly newsletter as well as my Special Report, “20 Rituals for Romance!” 
This article was originally published at passion101.com . Reprinted with permission from the author.
The content produced by YourTango is for informational and educational purposes only. Our website services, content and products are not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Please consult your doctor before taking any action. See additional information
© 2022 by Tango Publishing Corporation All Rights Reserved.





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When I first met Doug on Match.com (opens in new tab) in 2005, we were 26 and living in Washington, D.C., both recently out of serious relationships, both working long hours at jobs we loved. He had a big position with a top financial firm; I headed up public relations for a health-care nonprofit. On our first date, although we only kissed, he told me I wouldn't be the same when he was done with me. I knew he was right—I just didn't know what it meant. Neither of us did.
Doug was tall with dark hair and eyes, but it wasn't his looks that unglued me. A recent business school graduate, he was smart, confident, and witty. We'd talk for hours about politics and sports, and though he commented on how amazing our chemistry was, how amazing I was, he held back emotionally. Control. He had it, always.
We dated for a few months and had intense—if, in retrospect, vanilla—sex. There was a magnetic pull between us, only the attraction swallowed me. I became uncharacteristically needy, and it pushed him away.
Months went by after we'd broken up, but I couldn't get Doug out of my head. I began having fantasies about him like I'd never had about anyone. I wanted him to overpower me. I'd heard about BDSM—bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism—but didn't know much about it.
Curious about my new feelings, I did some research online. One site showed women being bound and whipped. Another showed a girl on the floor with a man standing over her asking who she belonged to. The answer: Him, of course. It all turned me on, but I felt confused. Wasn't it weird that I, a proud feminist, could enjoy something so degrading? I would never stay with a man who hurt me. So how could I enjoy this? Still, I kept exploring.
In a few clicks on another popular site, I found Doug's profile. I was initially shocked, and yet it made perfect sense. That was our connection. I messaged him: "I didn't know you had this side of you. Wink, wink."
At first, we casually texted, catching up on each other's lives. He'd finished an Ironman triathlon, and I'd started working on a business plan to venture out on my own. Our shared interest in BDSM came up slowly, in e-mails and on the phone. He'd joke about making me scream, and I'd say, confidently, "Bring it." Or he'd forward articles or videos of BDSM research he'd done.
I learned that BDSM is about more than rough sex. In a D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationship, you have to trust each other—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. While a Dominant, or "Dom," may have the "power," he can only go as far as his submissive, or "sub," will let him. It's not abuse; it's consensual. Doug would text, "How do you feel about a belt? Could you trust me to do anything to you?" Almost a year after our first date, Doug came to my house to try BDSM.
We settled on opposite sofas, and I was a fidgety, nervous mess. What if I didn't like the pain as much as the idea of it? Then Doug stood up, towering over me, and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He ordered me to perform oral sex, but that first time wasn't really about sex, it was about seeing if I'd be obedient. He used a belt, leaving welts on my back, thighs, and bottom. I could hear him pacing behind me, but I never knew when the lick of leather was coming. It hurt like hell, but I was utterly turned on. I had no control. And I loved it.
Afterward, I cried, overwhelmed by how raw it all was. We met up a couple more times for similar sessions, but then I pulled away. I was freaked out. Not by the pain, but by how intense my feelings were for him.
Nearly two years passed before I saw him again. We had both gotten married, gotten on with our lives. My husband and I renovated our house. I traveled to India and Australia with friends. And my business boomed. Meanwhile, I tried to suppress this thing between Doug and me. When Doug texted that he was moving to Boston for a big promotion, I agreed to meet him for a drink.
I told my husband, with whom I share a very honest relationship, that I was going to see an ex for closure. But as soon as Doug and I laid eyes on each other, that dark connection was still there. He walked me to my car, and we kissed. Then he told me to take off my pants. I obeyed. We were right back in it. He left for Boston with his wife the next morning. And just like that, our long-distance, extramarital D/s relationship began.
"A sub is intoxicated by the surrender—and not because he or she is weak. A sub is willing to go to a place many people do not, or cannot, go."
With 500 miles between us, we're in contact over e-mail, text, and Skype. Because BDSM is about so much more than just sex, Doug can still be my Dom from afar, focusing more on psychological control. I'll text that I'm going for a run, and he'll tell me I can't. Over Skype, he'll watch me get close to orgasm and make me stop. Or he won't speak to me because, with the distance, it's one of the only ways I can feel the sting of his decision.
We know what we're doing isn't fair to our spouses, but fortunately for me, I'm able to be honest with my husband about Doug. We went through counseling a few years ago and agreed to have an open marriage. I love my husband—and I love having sex with him, but in an entirely different way. Doug is my dark and my husband is my light. For Doug, it's not that easy. His wife has no idea about this side of him.
Recently, I flew to Boston for a long weekend when Doug's wife was out of town. He arrived at my hotel and made me sit on my knees while he spanked me with his belt. Even though we have a safe word, I've never used it. In a D/s relationship, you need to trust another human being in ways that are rarely explored. A Dom is intoxicated by someone who is willing to trust him or her that much. A sub is intoxicated by the surrender—and not because he or she is weak. A sub is willing to go to a place many people do not, or cannot, go. The physical pain is just a small part of it. And surviving it, enduring it, is a feat. I know it's weird, but I feel like if I can do that, I can do anything.
I didn't tell any of my friends about Doug for nearly four years. I just didn't want to be judged. Eventually, I started revealing details when we'd talk about our sex lives. They couldn't believe that I liked being bossed around, that I allowed a man to hit me. I explained that in his normal life, Doug would never hurt a woman. He even donates to a battered-women's shelter! One day at lunch I showed my best friend some texts from Doug. She got really upset by the controlling things he wrote, like telling me what to wear to work. And when I revealed that he had a wife, she was totally disgusted. We'd been friends for 18 years and she had been my maid of honor, but we haven't talked in nearly a year.
Sometimes I feel like I'm someone's dirty little secret. Doug is now a full-on conservative businessman. He lives in a huge house in a fancy Boston suburb; he plays golf, flies planes, runs marathons. (As embarrassing as it is to admit, he's a lot like Christian Grey.) And he has the perfect Stepford-looking wife. But the truth is, I feel bad for him. I couldn't imagine leading a double life like he does. And I do feel guilty about his wife. Yet selfishly, my main concern is protecting him and our relationship.
I love that Fifty Shades of Grey has gotten women talking more honestly about their fantasies, but I hate that the book perpetuates the notion that a Dom must be messed up to be into this kind of sex. People who aren't in the BDSM world think that Doms and subs are broken people. Subs supposedly have no backbone, have daddy issues. I am completely alpha at home and work. I have two full-time employees and am a bossy boss. Subs are not doormats. We are just expressing darker sides of ourselves the way everyone else probably has some fetish they're afraid to share.
Last week, I got home from a weekend with Doug in Boston. I don't know how much longer we can go on with the distance and his sneaking around, but I can't imagine my life without Doug, without this in it. For now, I am comforted by the scenes I play over and over in my head. The way he walked into the room the last night and pinched me so hard that I inhaled deeply and tried not to cry out. "What should I do to you for making me wait?" he asked. "Anything you want," I answered. And I meant it.

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When I first met Doug on Match.com (opens in new tab) in 2005, we were 26 and living in Washington, D.C., both recently out of serious relationships, both working long hours at jobs we loved. He had a big position with a top financial firm; I headed up public relations for a health-care nonprofit. On our first date, although we only kissed, he told me I wouldn't be the same when he was done with me. I knew he was right—I just didn't know what it meant. Neither of us did.
Doug was tall with dark hair and eyes, but it wasn't his looks that unglued me. A recent business school graduate, he was smart, confident, and witty. We'd talk for hours about politics and sports, and though he commented on how amazing our chemistry was, how amazing I was, he held back emotionally. Control. He had it, always.
We dated for a few months and had intense—if, in retrospect, vanilla—sex. There was a magnetic pull between us, only the attraction swallowed me. I became uncharacteristically needy, and it pushed him away.
Months went by after we'd broken up, but I couldn't get Doug out of my head. I began having fantasies about him like I'd never had about anyone. I wanted him to overpower me. I'd heard about BDSM—bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism—but didn't know much about it.
Curious about my new feelings, I did some research online. One site showed women being bound and whipped. Another showed a girl on the floor with a man standing over her asking who she belonged to. The answer: Him, of course. It all turned me on, but I felt confused. Wasn't it weird that I, a proud feminist, could enjoy something so degrading? I would never stay with a man who hurt me. So how could I enjoy this? Still, I kept exploring.
In a few clicks on another popular site, I found Doug's profile. I was initially shocked, and yet it made perfect sense. That was our connection. I messaged him: "I didn't know you had this side of you. Wink, wink."
At first, we casually texted, catching up on each other's lives. He'd finished an Ironman triathlon, and I'd started working on a business plan to venture out on my own. Our shared interest in BDSM came up slowly, in e-mails and on the phone. He'd joke about making me scream, and I'd say, confidently, "Bring it." Or he'd forward articles or videos of BDSM research he'd done.
I learned that BDSM is about more than rough sex. In a D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationship, you have to trust each other—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. While a Dominant, or "Dom," may have the "power," he can only go as far as his submissive, or "sub," will let him. It's not abuse; it's consensual. Doug would text, "How do you feel about a belt? Could you trust me to do anything to you?" Almost a year after our first date, Doug came to my house to try BDSM.
We settled on opposite sofas, and I was a fidgety, nervous mess. What if I didn't like the pain as much as the idea of it? Then Doug stood up, towering over me, and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He ordered me to perform oral sex, but that first time wasn't really about sex, it was about seeing if I'd be obedient. He used a belt, leaving welts on my back, thighs, and bottom. I could hear him pacing behind me, but I never knew when the lick of leather was coming. It hurt like hell, but I was utterly turned on. I had no control. And I loved it.
Afterward, I cried, overwhelmed by how raw it all was. We met up a couple more times for sim
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