Why does giving up control feel erotic for some women? Experts give an insight into submission and how to explore it safely. Photo / Getty Images
Warning: This article discusses sexual themes and is suitable for adults only.
Why does giving up control feel erotic for some women? Can it be harmful? Is it possible to explore it and still be a feminist? Varsha Anjali speaks to sexologists and a shibari practitioner.
When American pop star Sabrina Carpenter shared the cover of her new album Man’s Best Friend, many women spoke out about how it made them feel uncomfortable. It depicted the singer kneeling on the floor as a man tugged at her hair. As a result of the overtly submissive, hyper-feminine image, Carpenter, one of the most successful contemporary female singers, was perceived as someone lacking control in men’s favour.
“Women fought for decades to not be portrayed like this - and now we’re glamorising it as album promo? This isn’t provocative, it’s pathetic,” read one comment on Carpenter’s Instagram post.
While some film and literature (the 50 Shades of Grey series, The Story of O) are praised for bringing kink conversations to the dinner table, the mounting accusations that Carpenter was promoting women’s subordination and antifeminism show there is a gap in mainstream culture in understanding submissive kink, where one enjoys giving up control, usually to a more dominant partner, for sexual pleasure.
But does choosing to be sexually submissive as a woman mean that you condone male dominance in society? The answer, according to some sexologists, is not necessarily.
“Being submissive in a kink context is not about weakness or lack of power,” Bia Bliss, a somatic sexologist based in Golden Bay, tells the Herald.
She says submission can be “a conscious choice” and “an expression of trust, not defeat”.
In a mutual consent setting anchored in presence and intention, Bliss adds that the submissive can, in many ways, be the one holding the power, “because nothing happens without their agreement”.
Auckland sexologist Maire Joy reinforces this role of consent. She tells the Herald the “consent culture” we’ve entered into in recent years “was really birthed out of the kink community”, and now society is trying to catch up with it. This also helps explain some of the backlash against Carpenter.
“A lot of the fear that we’re getting around the Sabrina Carpenter situation is that there are a lot of people practising and thinking about kink, but not doing it from a consent space, and not doing it from really clearly talked-about, agreed-upon places,” says Joy.
She adds that some young men, who are exposed to easily accessible BDSM (bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism) porn, are acting dominant in sexual encounters without first seeking consent.
Joy believes there needs to be education about safely entering into submissive kink, and how to properly gain consent, for those who are new to it.
There’s also a big difference between being submissive by choice versus being socially conditioned to please.
“One comes from obligation and fear of rejection, the other from a place of sovereignty and choice,” Bliss says. “When a woman submits from a place of choice and desire, she isn’t giving her power away; she is choosing how her power is expressed.”
Both Bliss and Joy emphasise how crucial education is around submissive kink, saying there can be a risk of women mistaking unhealthy control or abuse for consensual submission.
“Abuse thrives in confusion and silence, while conscious kink is built on communication, clarity, and mutual respect,” says Bliss. “That’s why education, self-awareness, and community support are so important when exploring power dynamics.”
Submissive kink can include being bound or tied up. Shibari, a type of Japanese rope bondage, is not necessarily used in a sexual context, but has become more popular in recent years. Regular classes and workshops are offered in Auckland.
Kaspian, an Auckland shibari performance artist and teacher, first got into shibari after seeing photos of the artform. He thought it looked uncomfortable, abrasive and disrespectful. Yet the faces and body language of people looked “so relaxed and peaceful”. It intrigued him.
“I’m attracted to complexity, so I wanted to figure out what was going on.”
For Kaspian, rope is a language he uses to communicate with his hands. He says it keeps him present and honest.
Before starting a session with someone, Kaspian talks to them about exploration goals, boundaries, injuries or triggers, and curiosities. Do they have experience in BDSM, kink or shibari? If so, what do they like or find challenging? Have they seen him tie before? What counts as sexual to them? How will they let him know if they are having an uncomfortable experience, or what signs should he watch for?
“I don’t just tie people, I stay tuned in to how they’re reacting, moment to moment. I build trust through consistency, clear check-ins, and making sure people feel heard and seen.
“Emotional depth in rope only works when safety is real and mutual.”
Importantly, Kaspian says this isn’t a one-time conversation.
“Consent is ongoing. I always do check-ins afterwards, often a day or two later. We reflect together and share what worked and what didn’t. That honesty is the foundation.”
Kink can look violent or risky, and some fantasies can be embarrassing, shameful or even illegal. For example, Joy says rape may be a common fantasy but not something anyone would want to experience in reality. So, if there is no moral alliance, how does it feel erotic?
“The erotic mind or private fantasy world is its own entity,” Joy says.
“There are two parts to the process of being turned on. One is the physical representation of what it’s like to be turned on, and your erogenous zones becoming aroused.
“But the other part is your mind, and how do we get our mind to be stimulated and switched on to the moment ... for some people, it is about letting go of control in a safe environment, and that is enough to evoke the erotic mind.”
With shibari, Kaspian believes the allure for many is how the rope “gives them space to stop holding everything together”.
“It lets them slow down and feel. It’s not about giving up control completely, it’s about choosing to let someone in,” he tells the Herald. “That kind of surrender can feel like a relief.”
On the surface level, feminism and BDSM might seem like an oxymoron. Bliss says it’s not.
“Feminism at its core is about the freedom to choose,” she says.
“When a woman consciously chooses submission on her terms, it becomes an empowered act of self-expression. The paradox is that it usually takes a lot of strength to trust and surrender. Many women find liberation in exploring power dynamics in a consensual space, especially when they’ve spent their lives fighting to be heard or in control.
“Submission can become a way to reclaim their body, voice, and desire in ways that feel nourishing and empowering.”
1. Choose a distraction-free time when you’re both present (ie no multitasking or distractions)
Eg “There is something unusual I’d like to talk about when you have a moment.”
2. Ask to be heard without judgment before sharing your desires.
Eg “I’d like to share something that feels a bit vulnerable/edgy for me, without needing you to respond right away.”
3. If they’re open, speak about what draws you to kink and what you’re curious to explore.
Eg “I’ve been feeling curious about surrender and power play, and how it could deepen trust and connection between us.”
4. Discuss boundaries, time limits and safe words.
Eg “If we tried this, I’d love to explore being submissive for the evening. My boundaries are [insert your boundaries here]. We can use the traffic light system to check in: green is keep going, yellow is pause, and red is stop immediately.”
5. Name what kind of aftercare feels good to you.
Eg “It’s important to me that we take time afterwards to cuddle, debrief the experience, or something else once we finish playing in this way.”
SOURCE: Bia Bliss, somatic sexologist based in Golden Bay.
Varsha Anjali is a journalist in the lifestyle team at the Herald. Based in Auckland, she covers culture, travel and more.
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