Last year I went on a few dates with a man who identified as a Submissive in the BDSM world. As I thought about our possible dating adventures, I recoiled at the idea of a future with him. In discussing my "issues" with a friend, I was given a new lens by which to view submissive men. You should know that I'm constantly open to realizing my judgment and understanding needs critique, refinement, and growth. Sometimes my perspective needs a complete 180 or a deeper dive. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised to shift my thoughts when it came to submissive men in the bedroom.
When I speak of a “submissive man,” in this context I’m referencing “submissive men” within the BDSM and/or Kinky and/or Fetish world. I’m talking your erotic escapades or sexual acts. I’m talking about when he consistently wants you to take charge in bed. I’m not talking about his personality as a man. He could be a...
A recounting from an evening I experienced with my former Mister.
This is that one time when pulling out the skin tight, skin toned dress that rides up your ass and doesn’t work with panties or a bra will work. You’re going directly from your home and straight to Mister.
And you must wear the heels.
And you must wear your makeup....
.....which must include red lips.
Because when he sees you, he will experience the first of many…
You arrive and he can’t help but touch you. Because that is what that dress demands.
So he turns you and touches you. Then he turns you again and touches you. He positions your barely covered ass perfectly in front of his cock, fully clothed and he pulls you closer. This is what the dress demands.
Mister says, “You did good.”
Next Mister says, “What do you want to do?”
You smile. “You said you were going to restrain me.”
There was a fetish party to attend and he would only allow me to wear a latex dress and 7 inch heels. The heels I had but I’d never owned latex before. We were to meet so that he could pick the dress I was to wear and then we would attend the party.
I knew even before I left my apartment that I would be late. I texted him.
Sheena: The trains run crazy on Sunday. I’m going to be 15 minutes late.
[silence. I knew something else was coming. I knew disappointing him was not allowed.]
Mister: You will get a swat with MY riding crop for every minute that you keep me waiting after 5:15pm.
[his riding crop is more fierce than mine]
Sheena: Yes sir.
[I could have arrived at 5:14pm with the timing of the trains. Instead, I intentionally arrived at 5:32pm.]
He told me the movie “Secretary” was important to his life.
I promptly agreed to date him.
The conversations, the laughter, the meals are all of no consequence. Perhaps the only purpose to highlight it, would be that there was a connection.
He was quirky, eccentric, honest, straight forward with a very dirty minded streak. He kept inching closer to find my boundaries. He was giving and never turned down a chance to look me directly in the eye.
When given the option, “Do you want another drink, or….," ... I opted for the "or.”
Hours later, my hands and feet were in restraints, a rope pinned me down, a speculum was in my vagina and there was a bar between my legs.
There was also the multiple spankings throughout my entire body with the riding crop.
There was the choking. The slapping. The biting.
There were nipple clamps and another clamp on my clit.