A Dominant Gives Their Submissive Leadership Through The Storms Of Life
Month: March 2018
Signs of a fantastic Dom
We always talk about “signs of a terrible Dom” so let’s talk about some signs of an actually good Dom
- They ask you about your day: They show compassion and actually want to listen about how your day went
- They ALWAYS want to keep fields of communication open: Whether you’re in the middle of a kinky-as-fuck scene or you two are in a heated argument, the means of communication is ALWAYS open. Once you give your safe word, IT IS DONE
- Aftercare is a top priority. No matter what this is for you in particular, they put a lot of emphasis on aftercare (cuddling, movie watching, bath time, etc.)
- They aren’t afraid to scold you when you actually mess up. Sometimes we fuck up, both with our dynamics or we screwed up something at work or school. Doms will scold you, put also help cheer you up and might even offer ways to make it positive
- Sex might be apart of the dynamic, but it’s not the focus. I get the fact some people get involved with other BDSM partners for the sole reason of sex, but outside of those VERY SPECIFIC DYNAMICS, sex is NOT the sole focus. It might be a fun “add on”, but it’s NOT the primary objective (penetrative sex or other forms of sex acts).
- They are concerned for your safety, but don’t overdo it. They want you safe, but don’t take it to the paranoid level where they need to track every little thing you do.
- They respect your privacy. EVERYONE has secrets (”skeletons in your closest”), even among romantic partners who have been partners for a long time, people have stuff they just don’t feel comfortable confessing every little thing in their life. A respectful Dom understands this and doesn’t need to go spying on you or attempt to invade your privacy (track internet history, track phone usage, track where you’ve been, etc.)
- They trust you. A Dom who doesn’t trust you will purposely try to fuck up the relationship/dynamic, they will show severe jealousy, and other negative aspects. A Dom that trusts you will respect YOU as a person as well as you to keep your word on different things.
- When disagreements happen, they use constructive language. There is not a healthy relationship on this earth that is 100% argument/disagreement free. However, whenever these do happen, it is NOT a “me against you” style argument (”I WON THE ARGUMENT”, none of that). It is done in a way with minimal accusatory/hurtful statements
- They respect your hard limits. Doms know hard limits don’t mean “convince me”. They know to stay the fuck away from hard limits with a ten foot freaking pole.
They are out there and I’m thankful to have such a Dom in my life.
More than glad to have found one of those rare flowers 💜
I’ve seen a lot of people say that Doms aren’t made, they’re born. What characteristics do you you think Doms have to be born with and what can be learned with time and experience?
I’ll illustrate with an experience that I think demonstrates that we are indeed born, not made ….
I was 5. I don’t know how old my first “submissive girl” Mary was, all I know is that she was still on the bottle. We lived next door, our back yards separated by a chain link fence. We would communicate across the fence. I would give her instructions – how to dig a perfectly round hole in the dirt, how to make mud pies – and she would cheerfully chirp “OK!” and comply. One day, she dropped her bottle; this was back in the days when baby bottles were made of glass. It shattered into several dangerous shards, and she reached for them with childlike curiosity. Without even thinking, I plunged my hand through the chain link and pulled the pieces through the fence to keep her safe. In the process, I sliced my middle finger open from top to bottom; I still bear the faint remnants of that wound to this day, almost 60 years on.
But you see my point? All the important elements were there when I was 5. That need to give instructions, that ineffable exhilaration at compliance, and above all, that instinctive urge to protect the girl and keep her safe. Over the years, of course, things evolved – and became more complicated in the process – and when sexual awareness emerged there was all of that woven into the mix. But the core elements were there, whole and complete, before I even had the vocabulary to describe them.
Yours
I take a risk and send the photo of my pretty shaved pussy to you with one word. Yours.
I wonder how you will receive this and what your response will be. I fear you will not receive this the way I wish.
Your response some hours later is exactly what I didn’t know I needed, but you knew just what to say, as always:
“Oh I love that word. That idea. That photo. That pussy.“
I hear it in your voice as I read the words on my screen. My body reacts with a tightening in my chest that makes me gasp for air. My need for your approval raw and deep inside me. How is it that just your words have this affect on me?
And immediately I think back to last weekend when we met each other face to face for the first time. Waiting breathlessly on my hotel bed for you to arrive our text exchange marked the time:
10:44 am Me: I am on the 28th floor room 2808…should I meet you in the lobby or will you come up?
10:45 am Me: No keycard for the elevator…
10:46 am Sir: I will come up
10:46 am Me: ok
I have dressed in my favourite black lace panties I got in Paris so long ago and never wore. Tucked in the back of a drawer for a special occasion that never came.
This seemed like such an occasion. My black and red bra. Tight pants with zippers at the ankles that I love so much. A pretty top low cut in the back and the front as well. Barefoot. Toenails painted. A light bit of lipstick, but otherwise free of makeup. Waiting.
10:56 am Sir: Parked
Sir: Walking
10:57 am Me: Laying on the bed. Nervous and wet.
10:58 am Sir: Good
10:59 am Me: I barely slept last night
11:00 am Sir: 🙂
11:02 am Sir: You should be nudeI read the words. I screamed out loud "Fuuuuuccckkkkk” and danced around the room anxiously…peeking at the phone in my hand…peeking at the words
over and over again as if maybe they would magically disappear…or maybe I read them wrong. Maybe you meant once you got there?But I knew you were going to ask me to do this. I knew deep down this was coming. The GIF you sent me of the woman opening the hotel room door naked for the man who knocked flashed in my memory. I knew.
I was measuring in my head whether I should refuse. What excuse could I come up with ? Would you punish me? How would you punish me? Maybe I want Sir to punish me…? I struggled against my brain telling me this was madness, “What in the fuck are you doing?”
11:03 am Me: ….
I stared at the screen on my phone. Hoping for a softening from you…an ‘lol’ or ‘it’s ok’…something.
Nothing.
Time was ticking away. In an instant I threw off my clothes and collapsed on the bed again, my thoughts swirling, my cheeks red and my face hot.
How can I be doing this? Who are you right now? This is not you.
11:05 am Me: Done [acting like it’s no big deal]
11:06 am Sir: Perfect
11:06 am Me: Yup never felt more naked in my life [because actually i want you to know it is a big deal]
11:07 am Sir: Good sentence. Good sentiment.I lay there naked wishing there was a way I could just disappear into the bed…get under the covers…hide. Maybe I could prop the door open?
I looked but there was no option for that. No deadbolt or safety latch to flip out so the door would not fully close. “What kind of hotel is this?” I thought to myself for the first time even though the first two nights I didn’t give it a second thought.11:13 am Sir: 2 min
I waited wondering what to say when I opened the door. I decided planning anything was useless and artificial.
I worried about the things that women worry about. Will you find me attractive? Will you be aroused by me and overlook my flaws? The words you wrote many weeks before were in my head… “I love your body already. I love curvy. I love dimply. Now get over that and focus on MY body and pleasing Me. And relax about your sexy body…Listen beautiful. We aren’t 18. And I don’t want to be 18. I am fit and strong and I work out every day. A woman though should be soft. Curvy. Submissive. Mmmmmm.”
11:19 am Sir: Elevator
11: 20 am Me: [hourglass sign]
My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. “A real man loves a real woman and her body.”
The knock on the door. There is no turning back now. I take a deep breath and open the door, hiding myself behind it in case anyone in the hall should see.
I don’t remember what you said…I think my first words were “I have never done this before…” I remember looking at your blue eyes and thinking ‘this can’t be real.’ After all the words and waiting you were finally there in front of me. I was suddenly very conscious of my nakedness.
My normal recall for events hazy, in the mix of the emotions I was feeling. In some order you took in all of my body and indicated your approval. We kissed…your tongue invading my mouth and your hands on me pulling me to you. You made sure you asked me if I wanted to continue…I said “Yes please." "Yes please ‘Sir!’” you remind me. “Yes Sir.” You began to get undressed…did I help? Did I watch? I can’t remember.
Adrenaline has wiped the memory from my brain.
Before I knew what was happening I was on my knees in front of you and I was looking at that beautiful cock that I had seen in the pictures you had sent. I could smell her musky sweet scent on you as I ran my lips and tongue over your cock, teasing, before taking you in my mouth. You leaned back, thrusting your hips forward to meet my mouth. As I am writing this my mouth is watering…replaying that first time I felt you fill it. Is it my mouth, or is it Yours?
REBLOG IF YOU ARE HORNY AS FUCK
Sir's submissive 