Madonna, Madonna, Madonna… what have you done to us?
You know Madonna, right? I’m not talking about the bullet bra’d’ boy chaser, no I’m talking about the Mary the Mother of Jesus – The Original Madonna. Her story of the Immaculate Conception has placed a heavy burden on women for the past 2000 years. We are supposed to live up to her image as all sacrificing mother and take care of our husbands while remaining completely virginal.
Talk living up to high expectations! Not even the most demanding of Doms would require this!
A hundred years ago Fraud … I mean Freud, coined the term Madonna Complex. I can’t really blame Freud for this concept because men have been dividing women up as Saints or Whores since The Original Madonna walked the earth, he was just brave enough to recognize the hypocrisy and name it.
My personal view is that most humans, whether they admit it or not, would like to have a quality orgasm any time of the day or night. The problem is that mental hang ups degrade the quality of sex. After all, the orgasm is product of the brain more than you nether regions. If you are confident and happy, the quality of sex goes up. If you are ashamed or embarrassed, the quality goes down. At least that is how my personal experience has been.
The Madonna Complex is a natural and a deeply rooted part of human nature because men need to control a woman’s sexuality in order to ensure the paternity of his children. How many times has a baby been born and we hear the rumors, “Mama’s baby, Daddy’s maybe.” We understand why humans place sexual limitations on one another, but it does not make it any easier living with it.
Since it appears the Madonna Complex is here to stay, I have prepared some tips for helping the Modern Kinkster cope with the trials of balancing your life with one foot in the beautiful world of kink and one foot in the sometimes limiting world of everyday society.
Believe in the power of your own sexuality –
Both men and women have a lot to live up to when it comes to sexuality. I always say if it makes you happy and you are not hurting anyone (against their will) then do it. Try not to let societal labels like whore or slut negatively affect your view of yourself and your sexuality. Be true and proud of who you are on the inside.
Be confident –
I am not what you would call a traditional American beauty, but I am confident about who I am and men find that sexy as hell! Figure out want you want and live it. People will respect you or hate you, but at least you will be happy and live for yourself and not someone else.
Choose your sexual partner –
Many women will stand like a wallflower at a junior high school dance waiting for a man to pick her. Screw that! If you think he’s hot and your sexual values jive, then take him for a spin. It has been my experience that some of the hottest sexual encounters I have had was because I initiated it and the men loved it!
If they turn you down – who cares! Move on to the next one. My personal motto is, “I may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I’d rather be your shot of whiskey anyway!”
Don’t be afraid to reject –
If a man appears to be less than forward thinking regarding your sexual confidence then move on. No matter how hot he is or what kind of car he drives, you will be miserable in the end if your mores don’t line up.
Don’t be afraid to be alone –
Living alone does not mean living unfulfilled. This has always been the hardest one for me. I was raised that you need to be coupled up to be happy. But guess what? I have been without a traditional monogamous for years, and honestly, this is the happiest I have ever been.
Now that have shared with you some background and tips about the Madonna Complex, may I present to you my favorite part of this column: Story Time with Subhadra!
The Madonna Complex and the Road to Nirvana
Growing up in Los Angeles during the 80’s many of my early sexual experiences were kinky. Kink was everywhere in LA and it seemed to come natural to me. I was a child model, earned my own money and was left on my own much of the time. This made for interesting exploration at the hands of people who did not always have the best interest of a child at heart.
I normally spent down time on the set reading. There were no computers, cell phones or tablets to keep me occupied, so I often lost myself in the depths of a good read. I had seen several people reading a book called “Princess Daisy”. When I asked about it, the older girls would giggle and say, “You’re totally too young to read it.”
Seriously too young I thought? Who the fuck where they to tell me I was too young? Even though I was only 15, I thought I was on my own so anyone who tried to tell me I was too young, could just go fuck themselves.
On the way home that night, I told my driver to stop at Book Soup so I could pick up the ever elusive Princess Daisy.
I started the book thinking it was about a modern displaced princess and for the most part it was. However along the road to finding herself, this princess was involved with an evil vile Dom who was more abusive than true Dom.
Princess Daisy was the first time I read anything remotely erotic… and I loved it. I was 15 years old and playing with the idea of being tied up and spanked. Being in Hollywood, there were many men willing to step up and oblige a young girl like me. Thank goodness my experiences were positive and always left me wanting to explore more and more.
Around 16 I decided to date someone I knew from the neighborhood. I had known him my whole life and he came from a great family. My parents couldn’t have been happier therefore being a true submissive, I knew this was the right move. But there was a catch.
This prefect man was raised in the Catholic Church and his world fit into a very small box. It was from him that I learned kink is not what some men want from a relationship. One day while helping him clean his room, I sneaked a peek at the porn collection under his bed.
I was so happy to discover magazines filled with beautiful women and light bondage. Up until this point, our sexual exploits where limited to kissing and dry humping… and I was getting tired of the perpetual bruise on my pelvic bone! I told him I found the collection and was interested in trying out some of the stuff I saw.
Immediately he shut down. The porn wasn’t his (even though it was under his bed) and he was not interested in anything “bad” like that. Furthermore, I wanted to do “bad” things like that, he suggested I find another boyfriend.
Wow! What a mind fuck that was for a 16 year old girl who had already explored the pleasures of kink. What I experienced didn’t feel “bad”, actually it felt good and right. I couldn’t understand why he said this was bad even though he obviously masturbated to it.
Needless to say, I ended up staying with him because I came to believe that something must be wrong with me. He suggested that I start going to Catholic Church with him, which I did. As a young impressionable girl I fell in love the Church and my life began to revolve around it. Soon after we married, but I’m sure you already guessed that.
I decided that as a good Catholic girl, sex was not that important, so it didn’t matter that my husband could not even bring me close to an orgasm. Sex had become a chore, like cleaning the toilet and taking out the trash… I just needed to do it every once in a while to keep things running smoothly.
During this time I was often sad and depressed. I went to work, came home, cooked dinner and went to bed. On my days off I volunteered at the church and displayed a frequent but insincere smile.
Men still complemented me and asked me out even though I told them I was married. They often quipped back with a wink and a smile, “Well so I am, so that makes us even.”
I was appalled! This went against everything the church taught me. I knew for a fact that if I even considered sleeping with another man I was going straight to hell. Hell was a very real concept for me during this time and my every action was designed to keep me from spending eternity there.
To fend off these temptations, I stopped taking care of my outward appearance. My clothes were all large and baggy to conceal my large breasts and I stopped doing my hair and makeup as well. My unconscious attempt at thwarting suitors worked. Pretty soon no one found me attractive, not even my husband, which was fine with me… one less chore to do at home.
This life continued until we were so miserable together that we divorced after a long soulless but faithful marriage.
As a result of a divorce which was not my choice, my Church who I loved above all else, turned its back on me, I became a pariah and felt unwanted by my parish, so I stopped going. How could I face my church friends when they made comments like, “A Catholic woman’s job is to keep her family together.” Or, “You had a covenant with God to keep your marriage together and you failed Him.”
Wow… so should I just end it all now? Was there no road to redemption for me?
Work friends where more sympathetic. They stepped in and started helping me do my hair and makeup again, taking me shopping and I started to pick out form fitting clothes that looked great on me.
The response was overwhelming. Total strangers at the grocery store would open the door for me and say, “After you, beautiful.” My confidence was building and I was starting to feel good about myself again.
Soon after my metamorphosis, I agreed to go with a girlfriend to a bar and watch a semi-famous band play. At the end of the set the guitar play walked off stage and came straight to me. He placed both hands on my face and said, “Where have you been hiding? You have got to be one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”
I was visibly trembling and he gave me big beautiful smile and said, “Let’s have a drink and talk.”
That night I had my first orgasm in 8 years.
It was like when I was a teenager. He made me feel beautiful, sexual and wanted. Something I hadn’t felt since before my marriage. That night when I came, it was so hard, fluid shot out of my body and soaked the sheets down to the mattress.
I freaked out because didn’t know what happened. Did I just pee all over this nice guy? OMG how embarrassing!
He just laughed and said, “Oh wow! You are a squirter! Fucking Awesome!”
Something happened to me that night. I had a wonderful completely fulfilling orgasm and I wanted more! I wanted it every day.
This led to a very complicated on again off again relationship with the musician. We loved the sex and were falling in love but could never seem to make it work. He toured often and was jealous about who I might be with when he way. But if I asked him if he was with groupies he yelled at me and said I didn’t own him.
Again, I was sexually confused. He could sleep with anyone he wanted but I better be home every night of the week waiting for his phone call.
Being a natural sub, I went along with what my man wanted and I stayed at home and silently resented his ability to have sex whenever he wanted. This resentment built until again, I was unable to have quality sex with him. Pretty soon he began to find fault in everything I did. He hated the way I kissed, the way I sucked his cock and the way I fucked. Eventually we broke up and I tried to move on again.
About this time 50 Shades had hit the market and everyone and their brother thought they were some amazing Dom. I went on a few dates where, at the end of the night, the guy tried to pull my hair in a very Dom way, but I was like, “Ouch…no! Don’t do that!”
Not sexy at all!
Then one night I went on a date with a very tall man who was full of confidence and did not make any claims as to his sexual ability. That night he walked me to my car and he backed me up against the cool hard metal. One hand was placed skillfully at the base of my head and grabbed a handful of hair and tugged it just right, pulling my head back to fully expose my neck. His other was placed on my stomach and slid up between my breasts and to my chest and throat where he to apply slight pressure. He kissed me long, slow and hard – just the way I liked it! My knees were week and I fell for him right away.
The next day he asked if I was interested in BDSM. I was nervous and didn’t know what the “right” answer was. The thought of it excited me and I wanted to explore it again, but I didn’t want to chase him off by being a “bad” girl.
He told me it didn’t matter one way or another to him, but he just wanted a truthful answer. I took a deep breath and confessed that I had experimented with it in the 80’s but not since then. He forcefully spoke,
“That’s not what I asked. Please listen to me. I asked if you were interested in it right now.”
The way he spoke to me on the phone made me wet and something deep inside of me wanted desperately to please him. “Yes.” I said quietly.
“Yes, What? It is imperative that when you speak to me, you are clear and truthful. Do you understand?”
“Yes I understand.” I was trembling with anticipation and wanted to be a good girl for him.
“I will ask you one last time. Are you currently interested in BDSM?”
“Yes, I am interested. I’m scared, but yes I’m interested.”
“Good girl.” His words were soft and washed over me like the incoming ocean tide sweeping over my bare feet in the wet sand. He asked me to come to his house Monday after work.
My instructions were clear and simple. I was to arrive at his home wearing a black dress, thigh high stockings and no panties. Upon arriving I would come into his house without knocking and stand in the center of the living room until he came for me.
I followed his instructions precisely, I even took a mental measurement of the room to ensure I was in the dead center, as he instructed. I could hear Enigma playing from another room, so I knew he was home, but besides the music there was no sign of him. It seemed like an eternity and still he did not appear.
My legs began to tingle from standing in one place so long and I wanted to sit and wait for him, but those were not my instructions. He said to stand in the middle of the room and wait for further instruction, so that is what I did. Pins and needles shot up from my toes as they tried to absorb all the weight of my body in these spiked heels. Through the pain, I did not waiver. I did as he instructed and stood tall in the center of the room. Finally the sun was beginning set and the room turned amber as I heard his voice from behind me.
“I’m very proud of you. You know how to follow instructions. I think you will make a good sub for me.” The sound of his voice made me tremble. He gently pulled my hair to the side so he could gently kiss my neck,
“Good girl, you are a very good girl, aren’t you?”
“I try my best Sir.”
Sir? Where the hell did that come from? I didn’t know but it felt right so I just went with it.
“Do you want me to be your, Sir?” He walked around my body as I still stood dead center of the room, no longer feeling the pain in my legs and feet.
“Yes Sir, I do.” I said the words without knowing what they really meant.
His hand went straight up my dress pressing his finger against my clit, he gently began to rub. “Good girl, I see you remembered all of my instructions.”
“Yes Sir.”
The words were so natural to me that I spoke them without thinking. He was touching me so expertly and giving me so much pleasure, that I wanted to return the favor. I reached out for the outline of his hard cock.
He slapped my hand away and rose his voice, “I did not tell you touch me!”
My hand stung and I wanted to cry from the shock of it. “I just wanted to….”
His hand covered my mouth, “I did not ask you to speak either.”
He walked away from me shaking his head. His disappointment was like kick to the stomach and I wanted to cry. I stood there with my dress caught in my garter and pussy exposed. I felt naked and wanted to cover myself. But he didn’t tell me to and I didn’t want to disappointment Sir again. My lip trembled and the tears fell from my eyes without me making a sound.
He turned around to look at me as he shook his head.
“Why are you crying? I didn’t hit you that hard. Stop acting like a fucking baby!”
I tried to stop the tears but I couldn’t and my face distorted as I tried to hold my sobs in.
“Really?” He said, “I thought you wanted to be a good sub for me?”
I took a deep breath trying to regain control of my emotions but it was no use.”
He came very close to me, put his hand on the back of my head and bent his head down close to mine. “It’s okay, Subhadra, tell me why you are crying.”
With his permission I tried to speak but only wails and tears came,
“Because I disappointed you. I tried to do well and I didn’t and now you don’t want me because I failed you.”
My head dropped and my tears fell upon my black spiked heels and left trails of disappointment as they slid down the leather to the floor.
He pulled my head to his chest and embraced me.
“You didn’t fail me, Subhadra. This is training. You need to learn what I expect of you. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.” He softly laughed and placed his head on mine. His strength gave me the encouragement I needed.
He hugged me tight with both arms and I let the full weight of my body rest on him. The stress and anxiety was gone. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t even disappointed.
“Stay here, I will be right back.” I was confused. What was going to do? Was he going to get a crop to swat me for punishment? Was he going to leave me here for another hour, just waiting for him?
The room was dark by now and I could only see his shadow and he came right back. He placed something cold on my cheek and I jumped.
“Relax, it’s just a cold washcloth to wipe away your tears.” He placed one finger under my chin to lift my face up. I could see his smile in the shadows.
He was smiling. I stopped crying and smiled back at him.
“Good girl, that’s what I want to see.”
With his other hand he brushed the stray hairs stuck to my face with tears. He kissed me, first on my forehead, then each cheek, then my chin, then on top of each eye. It felt so good and pure. He touched my soul with these kisses and I was happy. It was a happiness like I had never know before and I knew that my place was to be right beside this man.
I had traveled down many roads to get to this place in my life. I was a crazy child model, a Madonna wife on a pedestal, a rock star girlfriend and now I had found my place in the arms of a strong Dom who showed me tenderness like I had never known before.
My Sir showed me it was okay to be myself and for the first time I felt I was on MY true path. Not my husband’s path for me, not my boyfriend’s path for me. MY path. A path I chose and could leave at any time.
As a sub I found independence and self-reliance. As a sub, I found my version of Nirvana and as a sub I was finally happy.
