My Story: How I Realized Control Is My Purpose
When I was studying at medical s****l, my life seemed predictable.
Cla*ses, white coats, the smell of hand sanitizer, fatigue, coffee at night, and the feeling that they expected me to have the "right future."I've always loved the cla*sics.Peace. Intellect. Discipline.
But somewhere deep inside me, there was another feeling—the desire to influence, to lead, to decide There was a guy in our department. Nothing special at first glance—quiet, attentive, always a little off-putting. We started talking casually: in the library, taking notes, during shared shifts. He looked at me for too long. Not greedily, but submissively.Over time, I realized: he was catching my every move.
Every pause.
Every glance down.
One day, he admitted that he'd seen me in a situation where I wasn't "convenient."
Not soft.
Not someone you could be on eq**l terms with.He said his hands were shaking at that m*ment.
Not from the desire to touch—
but from the realization that he wanted to be lower.I didn't offer him anything.
I simply allowed him to stay close.
Watch. Silence. Wait.And then, for the first time, I felt when a person gives you power,
even if you didn't ask for it.I didn't need to order.
It was enough to speak calmly.
Or say nothing.
I saw how it broke him and then put him back together.
How important it was for him to know that I saw his weakness—
and didn't save him.That's when I realized:
it's not the body that turns me on.
It's control that turns me on.
Conscious. Voluntary. Without ........... .Since then, "normal" roles have been empty for me.
I'm not interested in being an eq**l.
I choose to be the one others follow.If you're reading this,
perhaps you already know where you belong.
When I was studying at medical s****l, my life seemed predictable.
Cla*ses, white coats, the smell of hand sanitizer, fatigue, coffee at night, and the feeling that they expected me to have the "right future."I've always loved the cla*sics.Peace. Intellect. Discipline.
But somewhere deep inside me, there was another feeling—the desire to influence, to lead, to decide There was a guy in our department. Nothing special at first glance—quiet, attentive, always a little off-putting. We started talking casually: in the library, taking notes, during shared shifts. He looked at me for too long. Not greedily, but submissively.Over time, I realized: he was catching my every move.
Every pause.
Every glance down.
One day, he admitted that he'd seen me in a situation where I wasn't "convenient."
Not soft.
Not someone you could be on eq**l terms with.He said his hands were shaking at that m*ment.
Not from the desire to touch—
but from the realization that he wanted to be lower.I didn't offer him anything.
I simply allowed him to stay close.
Watch. Silence. Wait.And then, for the first time, I felt when a person gives you power,
even if you didn't ask for it.I didn't need to order.
It was enough to speak calmly.
Or say nothing.
I saw how it broke him and then put him back together.
How important it was for him to know that I saw his weakness—
and didn't save him.That's when I realized:
it's not the body that turns me on.
It's control that turns me on.
Conscious. Voluntary. Without ........... .Since then, "normal" roles have been empty for me.
I'm not interested in being an eq**l.
I choose to be the one others follow.If you're reading this,
perhaps you already know where you belong.
