Her Bath

He hears the splash of water from their en-suite bathroom and turns to see her standing in the low-lit doorway. Her nude body, slender and slightly tanned is lit by the very candles she lit for her own bath – the bath he ordered her to run and soak in.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hand marking the page of the book he’s reading to her while she bathes. Only now that book drops to the floor. He doesn’t do it to punctuate the moment with a gag, it’s just something that happens upon seeing her.

“Seeing her.”

He feels like he is seeing her now for the very first time. It’s in the way the candles light the edges of her nude body, the way her wet hair lay in curls across her shoulders, the way he can just make out beads of water across her neatly-trimmed pussy.

And it’s in the way she stands – confident, still, her eyes not flicking back and forth between his as they do at times but watching him closely. Intently.

He gets the feeling something has suddenly started between them. A battle of wills, a clash of their minds. It is true this occurs between them, this is what has drawn him to her as a friend and lover and Dominant.

And yet…something feels different. Super-charged. Riding the wave high on caffeine.

He feels the rhythm of his heart in his chest and he feels his cock harden.

There it is! The slightest twitch in her eyebrow. The slightest smirk flickers on her face and is gone. She’s playing with him as he would with her.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Her voice is soft but it comes with an edge that he recognises.

He won’t bite though.

“Get on the bed.”

He’s thankful his arousal doesn’t cause his voice to stammer.

She moves past him and he sees that thing she does – the shrug without lifting her shoulders but it’s all there on her face. One might call him crazy for thinking that but he knows and she knows what she’s doing.

She slinks on to the bed, her slightly sun-kissed ass facing me in the darkness. Were it not for the purple night light resting on her bedside drawers, He could see the little things – the freckle on her left ass cheek. Or her trimmed pussy between her legs.

She lowers herself down so that she rests on her stomach and buries her head in her pillow.

As He grabs his own towel, hanging from the door of their cupboard to his left, He gets the strangest sense that she’s grinning to herself as her face is buried. He almost wants to ask but stops himself before the words form on his tongue. He knows she would like that.

Slipping out of his pants and freeing his aching cock, he gently crawls onto the bed behind her, careful of where her legs rest naturally.

He comes to kneel behind her, her ass directly below the throbbing head of his cock.

“We need to towel you off properly.” He says as he runs the cream coloured floral-printed towel over her right ass cheek, carefully dabbing at her still-wet skin.

“You didn’t answer me when I asked you if something was on my face.”

Her voice is muffled as she speaks into the pillow but he can hear the accompanying smile behind her words all the same.

“I don’t answer to you.” He says, moving the towel to her left ass cheek.

Carefully he runs the towel down her left leg, taking his time to work down to her feet, drawing out the moment.

When he reaches her ankles, he moves into her right leg, sliding the towel back up, carefully drying off the sides of her leg, to her ass.

She does not stir.

He raises the towel to the base of her spine and lowers himself to her, his hard cock skimming the curves of her ass. The feeling of her beneath him, his shaft pressing into her fresh, cool skin, makes him want to take her from behind, makes him want to hear her moan those soft cries and whimpers.

But he has her body to dry off.

“Arms up.” He says gently as he slides the towel to the base of her neck, content that he has dried her back.

She stretches her hands out either side of her neck and her body seems to lift and waken a moment as the stretch takes over her. He see her back raise, feels her ass nestle back into him. He wants to guide his cock into her right there – wants to fuck her till she’s winded — but he’s not done playing with her yet.

With his right hand, he presses down on her back, pressing her away from him, her ass away from his cock. He grinds into her on his own terms.

Which is exactly what he does as he runs the towel gently under her armpits, wrapping her arm in the towel and sliding it along upwards to her hands so that he dries every inch.

He repeats this with her right arm.

Then tells her to roll over.

She does – and the two of them come face to face for the first time in what feels like an age.

He throws the towel to the empty side of the bed and rests his hands on either side of her. His eyes travel down to her small tits – dotted with freckles. Her little pink nipples are hard and stiff. He wants to lower his mouth to them and suck them. He feels that hunger more so as he feels the heat from their bodies.

God how he wants her more then anything.

Instead, he looks her in the eye, not being able to help the smirk that spreads across his lips.

She looks back at him, her face unreadable and her eyes ever still.

“What now?” She asks him.

The Dominant Stereotype

When I was first learning about kink, I had this IDEA about WHAT and WHO was a dominant – this strong, buff alpha male with an attitude.

As I began my journey, I learned the difference between what media has projected to us and who we really are. Looking back, it seems such a simple and obvious concept but at the time, I remember easing into this idea of being different. Or being myself.

The traits of a dominant…that’s something that comes up to this day with a reader here or there. They seem surprised by my regular self or are shocked when I mentioned how I’m a big fan of Disney – parks, songs, singing – you name it. And it’s a strange thing to wrap your head around because — while I am dominant and while I like taking, even seizing control or flogging a sweet pale ass or torturing the mind and body psychologically and physically, that’s not who I am outside of kink. Even IN a 24/7 D/s relationship, I’m not switched on – ever-aggressive or forward or controlling.

It’s different to what I thought it was, and sometimes it’s different to what people thought it would be either. Maybe it’s also the image I conjure through stories or dream thoughts I put up. I’m not sure.

Beyond dominance, I’m shy. Soft-spoken. Definitely socially awkward. Anybody, especially on my insta and Twitter, can no doubt confirm this through my random thoughts. Goofy is something people are surprised by too – my silliness in my sense of humour. Maybe that’s my Australian background? A fondness to find humour somewhere.

And to add to this, I think it’s important for any growing dominant or submissive to own who they are regardless of image or label or definition – because they can be restrictive or even damaging to some people. Especially when you’re new and are still forming your own opinion.

That’s my thought for the weekend! Happy Saturday.

On Inexperience, Writing & Self-Exploration

I’ve been pondering about a question that came my way…gosh, a few months ago now I think? Time has been weird lately – but it was about whether someone who is new to BDSM could write about it, fictional or otherwise, successfully? Or have it be correct in any way?

I’ve been thinking about experience a lot – when it comes to BDSM. I’ve been in a bit of a teacher / mentor mood, I guess, because someone new to the lifestyle wrote in to me and expressed frustrations about being ghosted by a potential Dom due to a lack of experience.

I can’t say I agree with that reasoning but I certainly understand how one could come to think like that. But I digress.

I think that when it comes to writing about BDSM, it’s important to trust in where your mind wants to go, do you understand? Because when you put pen to paper, you ignite your mind. You form a sentence. Then another one. Then you create a paragraph.

Or you don’t. Instead, your heart’s a mess and so is your writing. But it’s down, it’s on the screen or the page and you’ve trapped it. Whatever is in your head is there, frozen in time. A symbol of YOU.

What I’m saying is – writing is cathartic. And through exploring it, you’ll find pieces of your self, through which you night learn some truths about your tastes.

And if you want to write about a specific moral scenario – a rape fantasy, say – do what feels right to you. It’s only a fantasy. But if that’s not enough, write your thoughts on it in a seperate file or page. Explore how you feel about whatever it is you are confronting. Hell, ask the community. Ask me, my door is open.

Regardless of inexperience. Or shyness.

Writing…whether you want to and you’re either a dominant or a submissive or both, it’s about discipline. It’s about sitting down and confronting structure. Not just of words but of your mind. So find a time in the day to write 300 words. Do it again the next day. Leave each break on a moment you are excited to come back to. In a week, you’ll have a decent chunk of the story or your thoughts out.

As for that pesky experience thing, that’s another realm of variables. What if you are knowledgable enough about BDSM but aren’t in a circumstance to explore physically to gain more of an understanding of your wants and needs?

The best answer I have for that is one that might not be to your interests. When I was alone – a lonely dominant, I guess you could say, I peered into the depths of my sexuality. I explored and became comfortable with nudity. I explored my pain threshold, my comfort with verbal degradation. I found new ways to heighten masturbation. Little things that excited and stimulated my mind.

Everybody is different though and to that, one must find what works for them. But still, I think there are things you can do to gain experience.

Please don’t let shyness deter you. Or your writing. Or your self-exploration. Or from reaching out to a friend, the community, a Dom or sub or even me. There’s no easy way to say this but you’re going to have to jump into that pool if you want to write or to reach out. And just like coming up for air after that plunge, it all feels a little bit better after you jump.

Seriously though. You’ve got this.

BDSM Social Media and Our Own Anxieties

I was scrolling along Fetlife the other day and a thought occurred to me of how awkward it can be for newcomers to make friends or meet someone or even work up the courage.

I mean, that shit is hard enough without the BDSM interests and desire to converse with others in the lifestyle, not to mention the interests in wanting to put yourself out there but finding yourself frozen.

Fetlife can be a great way to get to know others and to get involved in the community but it certainly can be awkward at first, especially if you’re like me and can be incredibly anxious in social situations and so forth. Or just straight up shy.

A good thing to remember is to go at your own pace. You can push yourself in tiny increments but only if you feel comfortable talking in the group settings or going to munches or other such events.

If you feel overwhelmed with it all, do not feel bad or silly or like you can’t ever be kinky. Some have those thoughts – I know I did – but it’s important to recall that we all grow in our own ways at different times.

If you’re ever unsure about what you want or what is proper etiquette when it comes to being spoken to or speaking to someone – there are communities out there that can be helpful. Reddit has a good community for this, with its own BDSM sub-reddit for advice. There are still some small communities across Instagram, Twitter and Tumblr – even post-infinity snap.

Working on or identifying what is making you feel anxious or inferior or weird can help you feel a bit more confident. Tell yourself that what you are thinking and feeling is okay and has certainly been thought of before, by those around you and long before you too. Make a habit of it.

Me? I did it with nude selfies. I felt unattractive (still do at times) and I fought it – and my guilt at liking kink – by putting up nude selfies and experimenting with risky photos of myself. It helped boost my confidence.

Take it from a guy that grew up in a severe, sexually repressed and conservative catholic household and now has the time of his life with rape fantasies. You’re going to feel guilty, weird and insane but don’t let those feelings own you. They will fluctuate and pass. See it as you’re exploring a fantasy within safe parameters.

Keeping a journal can be a productive way of keeping track of your thoughts – or of trapping them to the page where you can digest them and reflect upon them. Writing your thoughts down can lead to truth and clarity. Sometimes it’s good to just write a fantasy, even if you can’t write well, just give it a go and see where you end up. All of this made me feel a bit more peaceful and a bit less chaotic and maybe it’ll help you too.

Maybe Fetlife or other social aspects of the BDSM community isn’t for you and that’s fine. I don’t go to munches or events because it’s not really my thing. People are wired differently.

But if social anxiety or doubt or insecurity is gnawing at you and you want to drop into these things, just remember you can take baby steps to challenge yourself and no one will judge you for it. You are the captain of your own soul.

BDSM In The Time Of Coronavirus

Hello there, ladies and gents! How are you in your part of the world? How are you feeling personally? If you’re in a D/s relationship, how are the two of you? Or more?

For some people, self isolation and quarantine is not much of a challenge at all. My twitter can attest to the kinky fuckery that continues in some of your households.

I, myself, am an introvert and worked from home anyway so it’s not much of a difference, except for the fact of what’s going on the outside running through my head.

But now that my lady is working from home, our dynamic, while there, has shifted in little ways. Little ways but different all the same. For starters, there’s the fact that she’s extroverted and enjoys being sociable and working from home is weird for her on so many levels.

For me, as a dominant, it’s challenging because I’m suddenly apply thinking in ways I normally wouldn’t. I’m not talking setting scenes in different parts of the house – that’s always been in my depraved mind – but in ways to help soothe her soul, her restlessness.

It helps to be cheeky. It helps to take some of that wild spirit within you and sprinkle it throughout the week, you know? A cheeky caress here, a sly reminder there. Remind each other of what exists between you but don’t overwhelm, especially if your work from home becomes overwhelming itself.

But what then? Let’s see. Could you shake up the established rule even more? Try something you’ve never tried sexually, if such a thing exists? What sort of tasks can you create? If you’re a dominant and you want to set a writing task, what topic of choice could you make it? Where can you dance and explore when things are limited to your own home.

It becomes a Theater of the mind – and not just for couples but for those who are single or not yet where they want to be as either a dominant or submissive.

In any case, writing can help centre the mind – be it fantasies, aspirations or musings. Writing can help shed light, can help fill your moments with colour. It can help soothe the soul.

If writing is not your jam, there are other things to consider. What are some things you want to explore? Or work on within yourself? Even setting daily goals – be it a mantra to recite or to finally get around to that thing you keep putting off can make yourself feel good.

It’s going to be hard and it will require some discipline for either yourself or your partner to think of ways to satisfy these sides of yourself but it can be done, even in the comfort of your home – pleasure room or no.

Read To Me

Out in this clearing beyond the trees, out in this hidden place of theirs, she stands straight as she’s been taught, she prepares herself to read aloud using her big, projected voice as she’s been taught.

The book in her hand, the book in question is a classic – Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. Fitting, for this hidden place. It’s a rabbit hole in a whole different way.

Every Saturday they come here to read a chapter or two. She dresses for him – a comfortable dress, slinky panties. His choice. Then, once they arrive in the clearing, once he pulls out a chair from their small cottage in the woods – the tiniest structure with no power or plumbing, just a place to be with nature. A home away from their home. Once he pulls out this chair and sits down in it, sometimes crossing his legs, sometimes not, always burning a hole through her chest with those searing dark eyes of his – once he sits, he would always say those few words. Read to me.

The first time they tried this, she had asked him, “Why get dressed if I’m only getting undressed?”. She sat and listened when he explained to her why. That he wanted to see her in a ritual just for them, to shed her clothes and bare herself just for him. She had noted the glazed look in his eye as he spoke of being bare just for him. She kept that look with her through the winters, through the fifteen minute hike to the clearing. She kept it in the back of her mind when she read.

At first she was nervous to read. She never liked the sound of her own voice and though she was enjoying Alice and her odyssey into wonderland, the language and the rhythm of the language wasn’t always that easy to wrap her tongue around. When she’d mistake a word or made an error though, he did not chastise her, not once. He always watched her, that look in his eye, a smile spreading out across his face. He’d comfort her and tell her how well she’s doing, that it was okay.

When she was done, he’d rise from his chair, keep his gaze upon her as he slowly undressed down to nothing. She’d note his erection and find herself salivating as he led her to the comfortable, reliable double bed in that little shack where he’d take her.

Sometimes he took her where she stood, sometimes he’d take her roughly. One time he took her by the ass. She had only let him take her anally. It felt horrible to admit but deep down, she never trusted the ones that came before with that level of intimacy.

Now she feels his eyes on her as she stands there, holding the book in her hands, her heart kicking into overdrive as she feels the gentle breeze around him brush across her breasts.

He crosses his legs, loosens his tie – all the while holding her gaze.

“Read to me.” He says.

So This Blog Has Been Running For Five Years Today.

^ I never used to be comfortable with choking until my current partner, my kitten, egged me on like the low-key shit stirrer she knows she can be. That’s why I used this picture. Once upon a time, I used to squirm at choking. I used to feel nothing but distraught and guilt. I still do but now, at least, it comes with a level of horniness, precise control and sadistic glee.

But hello! Happy Thursday! According to WordPress, today marks the five year anniversary of this here blog. Since I’m sentimental about time measurement, I thought I’d indulge in a little note here.

I can’t start a sentence with a ‘I just want to thank…’ without thinking I’m accepting an award BUT I do genuinely want to thank each and every reader out there – the lurkers, the ones who found the courage to ask questions for themselves, the ones who trusted me enough to take me on as a mentor – or life coach, I suppose. Or is that lifestyle coach? Either way, I thank you for your endless support, your constructive criticisms, your challenging and friendly debates and your presence alone.

This blog has been an invaluable source of inspiration and growth for me, as has the people who comment in because concepts have arisen that have helped me reflect upon myself – such as that time I co-wrote a piece with a fellow writer about sadism and why I’m that way. But I feel like I’m still growing and finding things out about myself.

If I learned one thing about this experience, as both a human and a dominant, it’s that writing out my thoughts and reflecting has helped. So don’t let time slip by you. Challenge your thoughts, be who you want to be. Write for yourself. And don’t forget, as long as I’m running this weird blog, you’re never out of an anxiety buddy or someone to unload to!

One last thing. I’m always open to suggestions or things you’d like to see a focus on for this blog. If there’s something you’d like to hear about, let me know! Because chances are, it’s a window open for me.

Kneel For Me

How do I feel about kneeling?

I think it is a beautiful, soulful exchange. There’s something tender and touching about it, something exhilarating and erotic. About guiding her posture and looking into her eyes. About helping her to recite her mantra when she feels down or flat, so that she may be feel some semblance of how I see her.

O! If only I could create a gateway from my mind to hers, so she could see once and for all how I feel about her, as my friend and my pet and my whore and my submissive. How I’ve been wanting to write about her eyes but no world has never felt good enough to sketch in.

But it goes beyond just wanting that for her, it goes beyond wanting to lift her up. There’s a slight possessiveness, laced with a stab of guilt, at wanting to see her like no one else has. Of having – stealing – this moment in time to share together. Of feeling an insatiable, incredible desire that yearns for control and protocol and rules in a way I still don’t understand. This is a part that wrestles with other parts of me. Most times I want to earn her trust, that right to have her kneel. Most times I want to be worthy.

Sometimes I want to be greedy. I want to take. To force. To humiliate and degrade.

“Oh look at you, you poor tormented thing. Look how eager you are, how hard your nipples are. You’ve got it bad”. She’s got it bad, I think? No. I’ve got it bad. Sometimes my mind runs to sadistic tangents and fantasies. Sometimes it doesn’t care because it just wants the view of her bare ass, reflecting back at me from the full length mirror, ready to be marked red.

But there’s beauty in that sadism, beauty in the squeaks and gasps and cries and quiet “Yes, Sir.” or “Sorry, Sir. I couldn’t help myself.”

There’s beauty in these exchanges, on this day or the next.

Wouldn’t you agree?

I’m Gathering Questions for a later Q/A so Ask Me Anything!

Hullo ladies and gentlemen!

We’re at the end of February, seasons will be shifting soon and moods will be changing. I thought that now would be a good time to put it out there that I’d love to do another Q/A with my readers – new or regular.

Anything goes, really. There’s no boundaries to anything you want to ask. It can be about your own journey, it can be about me or something I’ve written, it could be about something you want me to write about, it could be questions about dating or D/s or — anything. For me, as long as you’re comfortable, the sky is the limit!

Please feel free to ask via commenting below or you are always welcome, submissive male or female, dominant female or male, slave, pet, newbie – whoever! – to write to me personally. You can reach me at my Twitter or at my email – darkanddominant@hotmail.com

I’ll be hoarding questions and answering them sometime in this last week of Feb so don’t worry about having too many. The only silly question is the one not asked!

Have a beautiful weekend!

Don’t Let Others Affect Your Kinky Mind

When I was starting to learn about BDSM and kink and dominance, one of the things that was terrible to shake was the idea of what other people thought. What would they think of me or my fantasies? Would they shun me or turn their nose up at me? Did I really think I was kinky when I was just mad?

It took a loooooong time to feel comfortable about myself and my fantasies – which happened to lead to this blog. I’ve been blessed to have people follow and enjoy what I write. It’s given me confidence and in many ways, a safe haven.

Even now, I will get some unsavoury responses to some of my stories or fantasies that I’ve put out there. That’s fine, because people are different and enjoy different things and have different approaches – but sometimes it can still sting a little.

My story – In The Flesh – a particularly dark (dark for me because I let myself go to dark places mentally) erotic story – I’ve been asked if I would actually DO something like that. I welcome questions that engage in whatever I write, because that’s fruitful and stimulating for me. Anyone can write in to me. But it made me think. Is it bad if I say, yes, in a controlled environment, I WOULD do something like that. Yes indeed. And it would make me hard and giddy and switch on this sadistic, Master-like aspect in me.

I guess what I’m trying to write is that I feel something so strongly as that and every once in a while I’ll take a step back and think “Woah, IS there something wrong with me?”. A fleeting thought, but a thought nonetheless.

I think, for those just looking to explore BDSM and kink, that you should by all means have your dark fantasies. And the best thing you can do is think freely without wondering what others think of you, so long as you understand the boundary between reality and play – OR, at least, the boundaries of consensual non-consent.

It may still sting from time to time, if you’re anything like me, but in time you will come to see that everyone operates in a different world and see through their own reality. So should you. And don’t you forget that!