Embodying Dom Energy (Patreon)

*Shared with permission of a friend with kinky benefits.*

I dommed a man for the first time.

Let me catch you up. My history is littered with people walking over my sexual boundaries and handling it poorly when I try to set them. This gave me a complex relationship with my own sexuality. I found safe places to enjoy my sexuality with doms, but realized that I’ve wanted to expand outside of that to grow. After a few experiences with doms, I found myself with a partner that wasn’t in the BDSM world. He was a sensual lover, and I tried to allow myself to explore that with him. I found tender brushes of lips against skin, silly puns that pulled us out of the moment, and a lot more agency. Rather than him taking the reins and me always giving them, he'd take turns. This was exciting to me, but as I grabbed hold of my own agency and desires in sex, I noticed myself seeking something more. I saw myself yearning to pin him down, wanting to make him beg for more. I wanted to take control. In a space my lover has continued trying to make for me, I’ve found not just the space to say no (which I’m still learning to take), but the space to start seeking out my “yes”es. I want to explore.

That’s how I found myself sitting on a bed, talking to one of my kink-focused friends. After those flairs of desire during intimate moments popped up, I decided I wanted to find a more experienced friend to test them with. Previously, I had submissive friends try to make advances and directly communicate that they’d like to do things, but I shied away, feeling out of my depth, even though I had interest. I dabbled in talking to them about what they liked, but never worked up the nerve to commit to a scene for one reason or another. For a while, I had felt like maybe I was kidding myself, maybe my interest was somehow a fleeting surface level curiosity. Maybe I just envied Dom energy outside of the bedroom. But here I was, in the bedroom, taking the responsibilities up of leading a scene where I was dominant. I peered at my phone, scrolling through a text he sent me detailing his kinks, and the absurd amount of attached screenshots. Upon my request, he had sent me one of those many kink lists you can find to fill out online. I really wanted to make him go wild and I felt so out of my element. I wanted more time to pour over it. I brought it to ask a few questions I had with my first read through of it. He likes mean female energy. What in the cisgender does that mean?

“What do you mean by “mean female energy?”

“Well, it just depends on the person, it has to be authentic.” That…didn’t help clarify. I mark it down in my brain as “allowed to be mean, if it comes naturally.” I consider how this will play in with his affinity to worship, which is an area of interest to me. Degradation is also on his list, and I try to inquire more. He doesn’t give me much more than his previous response to my previous question. His notes say he likes cock and ball torture under the acronym “CBT”. The only CBT I know personally is cognitive behavioral therapy, I’ve never tortured anyone’s genitals before, but I’ve been on the internet…I ask him if “NT” next to CBT was “nut torture.” Bless him for managing to keep a straight face and tell me it meant nipple torture. Apparently, I haven’t been deep enough on the kink side of the internet. Well, at least I got a clear answer there.

After my first “free the nipple” crusade, I found out some men really enjoy having their nipples touched. Some don’t seem to respond much. Just like some women, some men and nonbinary people get erotic sensation from nipple play. I already had this in my “experimenting with my partners” toolbox, and really enjoyed it. This was something I could do confidently. I figured I’d work some worship in and some cruelty to test the waters on that. I also studied psychology, so I could work in some CBT.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.” He started laying on his stomach, and I realized I was already learning the lesson a book I started reading on dominatrixes had pointed out: be specific. “Erm, on your back.” We both agreed to try a few things in a short session to see how it would go, of course acknowledging that sometimes, you try something new and it isn’t your thing. This felt like a brutal start to my first attempt at domming. I reached back into my memory, something I noted in his list and in our conversations was his desire to be inspected and lightly touched with nails. Caressing people with my nails has long been a means of affection for me, and the moment I want to caress and “inspect” his chest, I was greeted by a forest of hair thicker than any of my lovers. I’ve had male lovers that enjoyed shaving, including their chest, back, and legs. My top priority has always been the comfort and confidence of my companion, and I have no strong preference outside of that. I wanted to comment, talk to him about what I was inspecting. Something about a forest did come out of my lips, I only hope it was less silly sounding that my nut torture comment, but I was already lost in that forest, and realizing that I wanted him further undressed.

I took my time with him, undressing him slowly while I stayed clothed. I asked him beforehand if that was okay, and reveled in the idea of staying fully dressed in my witchy apparel: long black skirt, loose, shoulderless top that showed hints of the strappy domme-esque lingerie beneath. That morning, power coursed through me as I adjusted the black straps I’d cover with loose black fabric. My little secret that would be a hint, a glimpse on my shoulders. That power grew as I stripped him down.

Our session ended up focusing on a main kink of his I’ve only ever played with accidentally: edging and denial. He liked his orgasms to be ruined, and we agreed previously our dynamic would center around that for him. He established cumming as a hard limit for him, so I instructed him to communicate with me when he was close. Would I even be able to get him close, being such an inexperienced dom? He had been with pro dommes! How could I possibly match up? I shoved the thought aside and I commanded him to touch himself, as he’d mentioned enjoying previously. I spent my time exploring his body and teasing it as I pleased. As my anxieties eased and I got into a good flow, I asked him to show me how he liked his CBT. Curiosity kept my eyes on his hand as he clenched his balls. I tried to gauge how hard he squeezed. He writhed in pain as I loomed over, watching him with curiosity. Causing people pain stresses me out typically, but I kept my eyes trained on him. I know intimately the pleasure in pushing through and enjoying pain, and reminded myself he chose to experience this with and for me. I traced my long nails down his body, leaning back to take in the view.

“Does it hurt?” I asked. The look he gave me sent a strong wave of warmth through me. Was I reading a mixture of pain and need in him? That warmth calmed into a deep affection.

“Good job,” I murmured softly, “I’m proud of you.” The words didn’t feel like enough. As a reward, I told him to keep stroking himself as I returned to touching his nipples in ways I was getting accustomed to him gasping with pleasure at. Gasp, he did, but this time he gasped that he had been too close.

“Stop touching yourself.” I wonder if the abrupt departure of my fingers from his body felt as sharp as the slice of my own harsh tone cutting through the evening. The heat that ignited my body seared. I got him there, but I also didn’t want to push past his boundary. Too close. I needed to trust him on that, and I needed him to trust that I would hold that boundary for him, too.

I stood up and turned to grab the flogger that he had laid out while showing me some gear. Looming over his naked body in my all black attire, I looked him in the eye.

“On your stomach.” I had been waiting for this moment, but I also knew there was quite a bit of safety involved with impact play. You want to be careful where you hit people and how hard. I reconfirmed that he liked being flogged on his back, and I struck there, softly. I checked in with him. Seemingly breathless, he answered that he enjoyed it. His words paired beautifully with his tone, and I felt satisfied and in a place to explore. I gained confidence with each strike, and watched his reaction carefully. This became a mind game I got to lead. I toyed with striking him rhythmically in a pattern that he could anticipate. Then I’d stop. Tracing the ends along his skin, my eyes danced across with them to ensure I hadn’t left any marks, as he prefers. I did well.

Whack.

Oooh, how I loved catching him off guard…

…I got him to the edge just three times in our session, then we smoothly transitioned into a quiet, tender aftercare. At the end of it all, I felt quite invigorated. I got a space to practice being assertive in a way I’ve never learned or felt comfortable, where someone else loved it too, and we could openly communicate. This felt like both an active breaking of habits formed out of gender expectations and trauma, and powerful manifestation of my nonbinariness. This was beyond words. It felt like a good dance with someone. Much like with sex, people can lose themselves in the technicalities and aesthetics of dance. Those are important and necessary, but for me, it’s all about the connection. Once I knew what not to do and had some direction to go, we flowed together. I saw a tender part of him. He left with a big smile, and knowing I played my part well, I was giddy the whole way home. The power dynamics were chosen together, and consent was continuous. I trusted that. As I drove home, I called up a practiced dom I respect. After he listened to me rehash the night, from my struggles and anxiety at the beginning, through the spicy scene itself, and to the very last ruined orgasm into tender aftercare, he reminded me of the gift I was being given. I was being given clear communication of boundaries so that I could have free rein, and explore my own fantasies and how they intermingled with another person’s. While initially the freedom felt overwhelming and scary, I realized that even though historically I’ve taken a submissive role, even though some people read that on me then try to push me back into that, that’s not inherently who I am. I can explore and grow in my sexuality. I don’t just want Dom energy outside of the bedroom, I have Dom energy I want to be able to embody wherever I am.

When I parked my car at my apartment, a little message popped up.

“I had a lot of fun, wanna catch up after the holidays for more?”

For Christmas, I got a man that will let me flog him.

*Selfies from the day attached*