Stephenie Meyer's submissiveness.

Check out this scene from Stephenie Meyer's "Eclipse", page 528-529, where she makes out with her best friend though she has a serious boyfriend:

The tiny piece of my brain that retained sanity screamed questions at me.

Why wasn't I stopping this? Worse than that, why couldn't I find in myself the desire to *want* to stop? What did it mean that I didn't want *him* to stop? That my hands clung to his shoulders, and liked that they were wide and strong? That his hands pulled me too tight against his body, and yet it was not tight enough for me?

The questions were stupid, because I knew the answer: I'd been lying to myself.

Jacob was right. He'd been right all along. He was more than just a friend. That's why it was so impossible to tell him goodbye -- because I was in love with him. Too. I loved him, much more than I should, and yet, still nowhere near enough. I was in love with him, but it was not enough to change anything; it was only enough to hurt us both more. To hurt him worse than I ever had.

I didn't care about more than that - than his pain. I more than deserved whatever pain this caused me. I hoped it was bad. I hoped I would really suffer.

In this moment, it felt as though we were the same person. His pain had always been and always would be my pain - now his joy was my joy. I felt joy, too, and yet his happiness was somehow also pain. Almost tangible -- it burned against my skin like acid, a slow torture.

There's a few other sections of the book where she talks like this and pain and being punished is mixed in with her enjoyment. I really do need to ask the BDSM people at the movie series if they've read any of the Twilight books!