A Brat by Any Other Name
“What the fuck was that?” I laughed, “I thought you said you’d done this before!”
The words were out of my mouth before I had time to stop them. I played it off in as coy a way as I could, flipping the hair out of my face to look back at the Dom who had just begun spanking me. He was looking at me with a bit of fire in his eyes, but the corner of his mouth was curling up into a smirk.
“Oh, I see,” he said, “you’re a fucking brat.”
At that moment, I felt myself bristling in defense. “I am not a brat!”
Of course, I was wrong. He knew I was wrong as he busted out laughing, holding me in place as I feigned struggling against him (though a part of me really did want to slap him). I insisted that I was not bratting, but was being a smart-assed masochist instead. “Same difference,” he shrugged, holding me firmly as he proceeded to give me the spanking of a lifetime.
For the first year or two of my journey, I was very adamant about my identity as a submissive, one who was strong-willed and required a bit of finesse. I wanted an intelligent partner to spar with in both wit and seduction. I found that the more playful I was, the more I enjoyed D/s as a whole. I loved the term “Smart-Assed Masochist”, or “SAM/sammy” (which is a role you don’t see very often on the web), and I began to identify myself as such. I had recently come to accept I was a masochist, but I had been a smart-ass my entire life. It just made sense to me. It didn’t have the negative connotations that I associated with being a brat. “Brat”, to me, felt like I was being called immature or unintelligent. It felt like more of an insult than a term for being kinky.
But the more I explored and learned, the more I discovered that my old play partner was right -- sammies and brats tended to go together more often than they didn’t. This was frustrating to me, and I didn’t understand it. As far as I could tell, brats were individuals who had no respect for the dynamics they were in, nor did they appear to care much about respecting the dynamics of others. Brats acted out in order to receive whatever punishment (often “funishment”) that the D-type would consequently enact. While I did not judge them for this, I found through conversations with D-types that the vast majority believed that this behavior was what defined a brat.
It wasn’t until fairly recently that I learned about another type of brat. These brats enjoyed being playful, yes, but they always respected the dynamic. In fact, it was a bit of a game between them and their D-type to find the “loopholes” in the protocols and rules that allowed for them to outwit their partner and gloat about it. The D-type in turn would feel not only a good-natured, albeit genuine, frustration with their partner for outwitting them, but they would also relish this challenge to not lose their “Domly cool.” The interplay between the D-type and brat in these types of dynamics was more like mental chess. A D-type would create logical traps in an attempt to ensnare a brat who, seeing these traps, would have to determine if the D-type intended them to be seen, or if this was indeed as enticing a possibility as it appeared.
Now we get to the crux of the issue.
A brat who routinely breaks rules or protocols with the expectation of “funishment” does not want to be confused with a brat who enjoys friendly banter but in the end will obey their D-type. As one falling into the latter category, I can assure you this feeling is mutual.
Overcoming my kneejerk reaction to say “go fuck yourself” if a man tells me to do something is one of the most erotic and amazing revelations of my kinky explorations. In submitting, I am overcoming a part of myself that is a protector, the one afraid to trust or give anything to anyone. In doing so, submission taps into a very vulnerable place for me that is also incredibly powerful.
It feels uncomfortable; the breaking down of my “tough, independent woman” facade to reveal this vulnerable girl who just wants to be seen and loved. And, as my mother and father before me, and no doubt their parents before them, I automatically turn uncomfortable situations into an opportunity to laugh. This is to say, deep down I want to submit my entire being to someone else because I know that in doing so, I will be the most “me” I have ever been.
It’s getting to that point that creates my brat.
I’m not sure how or if the “disobey everything” brat, and the “banter but obey” brat will ever become distinct enough to create an entirely new label, or even if they really should. I doubt that the line of demarcation is very clear, and more than likely, most brats fall somewhere in the middle of this spectrum. As a self-professed sammie and brat, I am fairly certain that neither side will cede the label to the other anytime soon. The label of brat ultimately is simply that.
As with everything in this kinkverse, the names we give ourselves are only the beginning.
About the Author: SubtleShadow is a queer, poly, sadomasochist and playful kinkster with an insatiable curiosity about the world and a desire to explore all of it.
