To love me is to know I have a naughty streak…
I was going through another one of my extended dry spells that led to mindlessly scrolling through Tinder. I came across what I thought was a burn account that fancied itself a Dom. I never expect responses from tinder profiles like that. But we matched. He responded almost immediately. The conversation was light-hearted and funny. Once he felt comfortable enough he gave me his Instagram handle. The man was hot and a video call further proved it was him. His playfulness was evident in his flirtations, he oozed sex appeal. It was effortless. His self-awareness and confidence made me incredibly shy.
After a few days of conversation, he offered me a sexual relationship that could be characterized as casual and explorative. The thing is, I was over situationships. At that point I wanted to date purposefully. My friends were also worried that I’d end up the victim of a serial killer with a bondage or strangling fetish. I declined his offer. At the same time, I had started my twenties in a committed relationship that hadn’t survived beyond two years and regretted it. When I should have been exploring and learning myself, I had tied myself to one person which ultimately twisted my sense of self. I knew I was now trying to play the ‘good girl’ again but I also knew I’d look back on this missed opportunity with regret so I reached out to him again. He was weary of my inclination towards wanting a relationship but I assured him I could handle my emotions.
Signed, Sealed, Delivered…
We launched straight into what can only be described as negotiations. He explained to me that he was a PC Dom and his kink was never to inflict pain but pleasure. Whilst he had experience, he was also still learning and exploring his own sexuality. It was reassuring especially because I started doing research into BDSM culture and some of the kinks were terrifying. He insisted on a hard ‘no’ safe word because we needed to get comfortable with each other’s pain/pleasure thresholds. I insisted on aftercare which included cuddles and he wouldn’t leave until I said I was ok. Out of courtesy he’d always check in thereafter. We decided we didn’t need to go on dates and that it would be purely sexual. We discussed how often we needed to be in contact and our schedules, he asked about my traumas and triggers and he told me how he decided he was a Dom. He was the first openly, black, continental African BDSM appreciative person I’d ever met and I was inquisitive. I knew I’d always had the urges to push my sexuality further but I didn’t have the guts or access to like-minded people. One of the first things I asked was if it meant something in us was broken?
He obviously didn’t have all the answers but he had shared that it was something he was exploring through therapy. I’ve grown to appreciate the conversations I had with him. I hadn’t been that honest with someone in a really long time. Nothing was too minor or major. We even talked about our preferences towards shaving, voyeurism, the extent of hosting each other as far as food or drinks or sleepovers, sex play themes, inviting third parties, what discipline would look like. Most importantly we discussed our health and got tested. As a precaution, he said agreements like this needed a termination date. We agreed on 2 months.
REALITY MEETS FANTASY
And then I was a Sub. My first sexual encounter with my Dom had been through video call. He’d shown an appreciation for my body. He told me I was sexy and his excitement was contagious. It grew my confidence. It made me comfortable with nudes and over the next week he would ask for naughty pictures of me while I was at work always with instructions that started with ‘Your Dom would like…’ or ‘Your Dom says…’ or ‘My Sub…’ My colleagues didn’t register the numerous trips to the bathroom I was suddenly making or my muffled giggles. It took me a while to catch on to the fact that I could make requests too. He indulged me. The more familiar we got, the more explicit the pictures and videos got. And never with our faces showing.
The first time we met, he came over to my apartment. I could feel all the stranger danger alarm bells going off but there was a part of me that also needed a thrill. It wasn’t awkward at all. I realize it was because there was no pretense. I had shared all my vulnerabilities, all my kinks and expectations. There was no need to play ‘hard to get’ mind games. A quick hug and hello told us everything we needed to know. Allow me to reiterate…My Dom was gorgeous. He was tall and sturdy with broad shoulders. His presence simply and easily announced itself. By the time we got into my apartment we had already made out in the elevator…amongst other things. It was clear we had chemistry. Afterward, we had talked and that was our first mistake. We realized we had more in common than we initially thought. Red flag alert. We were worried we’d catch feelings so we decided to sleep on it.
Honestly, I thought I had been duped. I thought he was a chancer who’d gotten what he wanted, found an out and he was gone but I think we were both intrigued by it. We continued to have ‘before work’ quickies and ‘after work’ sessions and weekend rendezvous. The sex was hot and rough. He was always in charge and afterwards it always felt like I was high but the next day, hung over or suffering from the after effects of an intense workout, sore and exhausted. We experimented with breath play, bondage, blindfolding, and spanking; occasionally we added my vibrator to the mix. I received my first punishment after I had been coy and hadn’t sent the naughty pictures he requested. He had come over and spanked me so hard I had felt the vibrations travel up my spine and the sex had been merciless. He left without climaxing because according to him ‘I didn’t deserve to see him that vulnerable and I needed to learn my lesson that he was my Dom and he was in charge’. He left me with the internal turmoil of hating him and still aching for more.
That’s when I started to understand that it was psychological and I was experiencing sensory stimulation like never before. I was hyperaware of my body’s responses to him, the sex, and the discipline. Somehow here I was, content enough to entrust full control of my personal safety to a random man I met online. I wanted to please him as well. I loved it when he called me his sub or his good girl. It made me feel so proud when he was satisfied. It was exhilarating, I never knew what he was going to do next. That’s also when I started to push back and challenge his limits. There was a part of me that wanted to prove that he couldn’t break me and I could take more. He was quick to explain that’s not what it’s about. He obviously didn’t want to hurt me but I was curious to see how far we could take it. He explained that for him the pleasure was in my response. He enjoyed watching me squirm from pleasure and that meant he didn’t always need to climax. It also made me question myself. Had the meaning of love become so warped that I associated it with pain? Was I chasing the punishment because I believed I needed to be punished? Was this a way of bringing emotion literally to the surface? Why did I constantly say I wanted conventional relationships and yet consistently find myself in non-conventional relationships?
It is incredibly difficult for me to promote conventional relationships when I am the truest self in my situationships because they serve my greatest needs at that point in time whether it be sexual, emotional or the simple need for companionship. I’m learning there’s no shame in it as long as I am able to effectively communicate these needs. At the same time with all the evolving we do, I can’t seem to comprehend one person being able to satisfy every need. I’m also learning that it can be draining and turn you into a love cynic when you constantly treat your emotions as a breach of contract. This is why I also go through long periods of singleness to touch base with myself because it is my responsibility to show my partners how best to ‘love’ me through my seasons. Short-term, non-conventional relationships have their purpose too. For me, they are actively refining my version of ‘happily ever after’.
– Dom Approved