An older friend once told me that during the course of a lifetime, most people end up leading at least 5 very different lives.
He mentioned this while we were sitting at a karaoke bar after having already danced earlier that night. It was one of those fun, spontaneous evenings where we just bar hopped and met up with various friends at random places, dancing and singing and laughing and sharing stories.
I was relaying to him how it seemed crazy to me how radically different my life was from just a few short years ago, when I was married with a house and a yard and I never sang or danced or went out ever. It was so different in fact that I often wondered … who am I? Am I the same person? And of course, the answer to that question was both yes and no.
I used to really worry that something was wrong with me to have had such a change in direction in my 30s. So I found his advice to be quite comforting. And also very, very true. I was indeed living a very different life, hopefully one of many still to come.
His words came to mind again recently while I was cleaning out the trunk of my car and ran across a very long, very serious leather whip and a smaller riding crop. And I remembered, ahhhhh yes … I was a dom once.
Talk about a different life, eh?
Now I’m not going to hype up this part of my life story because it was a very, very short lived time. However, before I met Andy (aka the guy who broke my heart), while I was in a state of self-exploration, a man approached me (online) about the possibility of a dom/sub relationship. At first I said no, of course not, that’s NOT at all the kind of relationship I was looking for. He was actually very kind and polite and not at all creepy (surprisingly enough) in his initial request, so I was also kind when I declined. I had no interest in anything like that, definitely not sexually.
But a friend who I had talked to about the situation with the ‘submissive’ suggested .. why not try it out? Or at least be open to discussing it with him? Maybe it could be an empowering experience? I hadn’t considered that at all.
Then I reflected on how poorly dating had gone, how I felt so uncertain there. I was always catering to the guy and anxious and honestly, just lacked a lot of confidence with men. I thought about how I felt clueless and powerless often when it came to dating. How hurt I had been at times.
Maybe my friend was on to something.
When I started to open myself up to the possibility of even discussing a dom/sub relationship where I was in the position of power, I felt that nervous, excited/scared feeling I get when I know I need to do something. So .. that was it. I decided to give it a shot.
The man who would be my sub (let’s call him Aaron) walked me through what he was looking for and we began to discuss our terms. I wasn’t interested in it being sexual, but I wasn’t for sure if that would be enough for him. Aaron assured me it would, that dom/sub relationships don’t always have to be sexual. For him, it was about giving over power to another human completely. Oof. This seemed … like a lot for me take on so we agreed to go slow.
It took weeks of discussion. He didn’t want to share his identity right away because he was a deeply private man and we needed to build mutual trust. This became our first rule, I couldn’t tell anyone who he was and he wouldn’t tell anyone about me either. He sent me additional terms and I had to look them over and decide what all I wanted to partake in, what rules and punishments I would comfortable with enforcing. What duties he would be commanded to provide. He also sent me articles to read to become more comfortable with my role.
And we also discussed what he would call me. We landed on Princess.
All of this was before we even met face to face.
The first night we met in person, Aaron came to my apartment, but I didn’t at all feel unsafe with this. He was a shorter, very timid man with a kind face. He was soft-spoken and gentle and had a high stress job in IT. He was incredibly smart and gifted in his job, but it was a lot of pressure. His role as a submissive gave him a stress release nothing else could match. I asked him questions about all of this, what he would get out of it and he asked me the same. For me, I was exploring what strength and power meant. I was trying out a version of myself … maybe there was something here for me? I didn’t know. But I wanted to find out.
After the first meeting, we agreed to meet at least once a week, perhaps two times if our schedules allowed. His initial duties would involve buying my groceries and folding my laundry/doing housework. It seemed like a very weird, imbalanced deal to me, but he was interested in it.
The first night he came over as my official sub, it was on a night where I had a date later in the evening. I had sent him a list of groceries earlier in the day and he brought those with him. He put my groceries away and then I tasked him with folding my laundry (which I’ve mentioned before is my LEAST favorite chore of all). I was getting ready for my date while this was happening.
When his tasks were done, it was time for the punishment portion. It was a little awkward at first. Technically he was supposed to have done something ‘wrong’ to merit the punishment, which I didn’t clue into right away. He had forgotten one item on the list of groceries and kept apologizing to me saying how terrible it was, which I of course said ‘Oh no worries, it’s no big deal.’ Because of COURSE I wasn’t going to get angry at the sweet stranger who’d been kind enough to even bring me my groceries. It took a few times of him reiterating his mistake and how shameful he was for me to go ooooohhh he wants me to spank him.
Ok. I could do this. I wasn’t comfortable just spanking him with my hand, so I brought out a couple of belts. He had asked politely if he could remove his pants to make the punishment more severe but I was not at all ready for that. So instead I had him bend over my couch, with his pants on. And then … the spanking commenced.
I went light at first. It was a weird feeling to be intentionally causing pain to someone … who also received that pain as pleasure. He requested I go harder, so I did. It was surreal and strange and slightly uncomfortable but then .. once I relaxed … it became a little more … stimulating. I didn’t feel aroused. I didn’t feel anything sexual at all. I did feel … powerful. In control.
After the punishment, Aaron offered to drop me off at my date. This would happen many times during the course of our time together. He would come over, do chores, get punished and then he would drive me to my next engagement. Definitely the most unique uber I’ve ever had.
After our first meeting, I decided if I was really going to at least try for the full dom experience, I needed to invest in some quality BDSM equipment. So I went to Leather Masters in Deep Ellum with a friend to see what I could find. Let’s just say there was a LOT to choose from – tools of all kinds, ball gags, ropes, whips, chains, the whole bit. And it wasn’t cheap. The gentleman working at the store was so helpful. I told him my situation, that I was brand new and exploring a dom/sub relationship and I was looking for something that would be good for my sub but easy for my beginner dom self to wield. He helped me find what I was looking for and in the end, I decided on a short riding crop and a thick plastic paddle with metal embellishments.
The next time Aaron came over I was ready for the punishment portion. Instead of having him bend over the couch, he got on his hands and knees on the ground. This way I could have better access to the back of his thighs and his feet, which he had requested I include when I was spanking him. I started with the belt this time, then changed to the crop which I preferred. I could do light hits, then swift, hard hits with ease. I would change up the pace to keep him unsure of when the next hit might come. I saved the paddle for last and I went easy with it at first. And then slowly increased how hard I was hitting him. We had a safe word but he never used it. However I could sense that I might’ve started to go too hard so I stopped. I found out later he was quite sore and couldn’t sit down without it hurting. I felt so guilty and apologized profusely, but he assured me that it was ok, he simply had to wait a few more days before being punished again.
One of the most interesting times I had to punish him resulted after he had confessed that he had ‘pleasured’ himself without asking my permission. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about that at all, however my role as a dom was to have complete power, even over his sexuality. This was one of the rules we had agreed on, that he had to ask my permission for anything sexual on his own or with someone else. After he arrived at my apartment, with my groceries in hand, I had him put the groceries away and then write out ‘I will always remember to ask Princess for permission’ 25 times on a notepad. And then had him clean out my car. After all that, I also spanked him with every belt I owned.
That night before he left he said he had something he wanted to loan me. He had brought with him a tool of his own. It was the long, leather whip. It had to have been at least 6 ft in length and when he gave it to me he said this one would take a lot of time and practice before I could use it because it could really hurt him. I was terrified of it. But also … intrigued. After he left I tried to ‘crack that whip’ and nearly had it whip back and hit me. I decided that it was wiser of my uncoordinated and accident prone self to keep it safely hidden in my closet till I had more experience with it.
Things progressed ever so slightly. I’ve talked about this before, but growing up I was very very sheltered and insecure. And I didn’t much like how I looked. I was really just starting to come into my own as a woman when this opportunity presented itself with the submissive. It surprised me at what I was actually beginning to get out of our arrangement. Beyond having someone bring me groceries and doing housework, I started to relish the feeling of power I had when he would come over. I was not at all into him sexually and that never changed. However, knowing there was a person wanting you, who could never touch you, would never touch, who actually thrived on seeing you in all your glory as a queen … I must say it was exhilarating.
I would often open the door in just my underwear and a tank top, and I found myself letting him watch me as I got ready for my night out while he was folding my laundry and putting away my groceries. I was not aroused by him but rather … by the power I held over him. Quite frankly I think I was aroused by me and my own ballsiness. He was not allowed to get aroused and I threatened to punish him if ever did get visibly turned on. Which I think heightened the experience for both of us. One time he asked if he could give me a foot massage and he was very into kissing my feet after he had been punished. It wasn’t sexual, at least not for me … but it also seemed to be more demeaning than sexual for him. He would crawl over on his hands and knees after I was finished punishing him and kiss my feet while saying ‘I’m so sorry princess’ over and over again.
Knowing there was a person wanting you, who could never touch you, would never touch, who actually thrived on seeing you in all your glory as a queen … I must say it was exhilarating.
The wildest thing I ever did was … orgasm in front of him while using a toy, while he was on his hands and knees cleaning my apartment. My clothes were on and I used a vibrator over my underwear. I’m not sure why I did it. Well … for one I think I hadn’t been laid or had an orgasm in a while. And I also think …. I just wanted to see what it was like to have a voyeur there who couldn’t say anything or be apart of it in any way. It was … interesting to say the least. In a lot of ways, it was as if he wasn’t even there and that’s how he wanted to be treated. As an invisible servant to his queen.
To me, this power he allowed me to wield over him was fascinating. Now I will say this, I was a half-assed dom. I’m sure I didn’t quite ‘punish’ as painfully as some would have or as regularly and I certainly didn’t get off on it. There was a power in it, yes, but it was an inner, quiet power. I was interested in exploring my boundaries, exploring what total power meant to me. Did I like it? In the end, I’m not sure. But there were aspects of it that were very empowering, very liberating.
It was a very strange dance between dark and light, power and submissiveness. It was a role I found enlightening if only in showing me my own limits and boundaries with pain and pleasure and power. But after a few months, I realized it really wasn’t meeting my needs and while it was interesting to explore, it really was more like a role I played versus a part of who I was. It was fascinating yes and maybe I could even understand the appeal of being a dominant woman (or even a submissive woman). But I wanted to devote more time to dating and potential romantic relationships. Ones that involved a balance of equal power … and an ebb and flow of mutual dominance and submissiveness. I thanked him for the time we spent together and then Aaron and I went our separate ways.
I had almost forgotten about this little time in my history until I came across that whip in the back of my car. It had been hiding under a few other items and I suppose it had been in my trunk since I moved back in April. This hidden reminder of a time in my life when I wanted to try out a different version of myself for a bit. It made me smile to remember. And strangely enough .. I have to say it might have been one of the more emotionally healthy relationships I’ve ever had. No, we weren’t deeply connected. And we certainly weren’t traditional. We didn’t even really know much about each other. But we had a deep respect for what the other person was receiving in our little arrangement.
All in all I would say the experience made it clearer the type of relationship I do want. But for a minute I got to explore how it might feel if I had complete control over another individual. In the end, I didn’t really like having all that power but I will always be grateful to Aaron for allowing me to experience it.
Funny thing is I never did end up using that whip on Aaron. And he never asked for it back.
So maybe I’ll just keep it. As a fun, weird little reminder of one of my many lives.