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People who aren't in the BDSM world think that Doms and subs are broken people.
Subs supposedly have no backbone, have daddy issues. I have two full-time employees and am a bossy boss. We are just expressing darker sides of ourselves the way everyone else probably has some fetish they're afraid to share.
He'd joke about making me scream, and I'd say, confidently, "Bring it." Or he'd forward articles or videos of BDSM research he'd done. In a D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationship, you have to trust each other—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. We settled on opposite sofas, and I was a fidgety, nervous mess.
While a Dominant, or "Dom," may have the "power," he can only go as far as his submissive, or "sub," will let him. What if I didn't like the pain as much as the idea of it? And just like that, our long-distance, extramarital D/s relationship began.
They couldn't believe that I liked being bossed around, that I allowed a man to hit me.
I explained that in his normal life, Doug would never hurt a woman. One day at lunch I showed my best friend some texts from Doug.
Curious about my new feelings, I did some research online. Another showed a girl on the floor with a man standing over her asking who she belonged to. He'd finished an Ironman triathlon, and I'd started working on a business plan to venture out on my own.
Our shared interest in BDSM came up slowly, in e-mails and on the phone. " Almost a year after our first date, Doug came to my house to try BDSM.
I began having fantasies about him like I'd never had about anyone. I'd heard about BDSM—bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism—but didn't know much about it. Wasn't it weird that I, a proud feminist, could enjoy something so degrading? Wink, wink." At first, we casually texted, catching up on each other's lives.
We'd been friends for 18 years and she had been my maid of honor, but we haven't talked in nearly a year.
Sometimes I feel like I'm someone's dirty little secret. He lives in a huge house in a fancy Boston suburb; he plays golf, flies planes, runs marathons.
For now, I am comforted by the scenes I play over and over in my head.
The way he walked into the room the last night and pinched me so hard that I inhaled deeply and tried not to cry out.