CN: kink, d/s, daddy-dom, impact play, bruises, orders

Like many other femmes and womxn, I’ve almost always experienced consensual aggression with men in bed: hair pulling, playful butt slaps, or even light choking started slowly inched their way into my sex life over the years. But those actions were rarely for the benefit of domination, mentally or physically. They were merely aesthetic additions to the pleasure of my cis male partners. While I enjoyed every minute of the aggression, it was never enough to satisfy my need for dominate arousal.

I don’t particularly remember the first time someone choked me in bed. Looking back with my bad memory, I could honestly just assume everyone I slept with had choked me at some point. It started with a cock in my throat, and that lead to hands squeezing my neck. I liked the sensation that someone was controlling my breath, choosing when I got to breath and when I had to shut the fuck up. If I was making out with someone and their hand started to lead from my tits to my throat, my moans would get louder, muffled only by the other person’s mouth as they tested my boundaries of how far they could go.

My first serious friends with benefits was a dominant guy and was my first glance into the potentials of on going kink relationships. He (consensually) threw me around in bed, but never to the point of pain. We had rough sex; sex that made me feel good, submissive and pleasured to my soul. He coaxed me into trying butt stuff, and did so in a way that made me feel seductively coerced (now a big kink of mine) and like such a good girl for trying progressively bigger things in my butt. I eventually bought the nJoy Pure Plug, which remained a big part of our dynamic through sexting and in person sex sessions. He’d make me put it in for him, to take pics or to wear around the house and I would bask in the knowledge that I did a good job. During that time I felt submissive enough to invest in marquee light letters for my wall that spelt out “Sub.” That relationship later ended without the chance to further explore d/s, but it was my first stepping stone for the acceptance of my submissive feelings.

With my interest in kink piqued by various partners, I started exploring online mediums to further educate myself. I started an account of FetLife and became immediately overwhelmed with the amount of Serious Kinkster Shit that was on the site. I felt like I had jumped from one kink extreme to the other: lifestylers, extreme fetishists and hardcore kinks flooded the site, making me feel lost at sea. Without even uploading any pictures, I had gross messages pouring into my inbox from random men. It was intimidating and by relation, kink and d/s seemed intimidating to me. I was brought back to images of BDSM I had seen as a teen: everything was super serious, viciously painful and so not me. I retreated to my borderline kinky IRL sex and reconsidered my kinkster ambitions. Maybe I wasn’t kinky enough to be apart of the lifestyle or to claim the title of submissive.

My imposter syndrome really got the best of me back then and is something I’ve struggled with since, even until recently. Even as I began sex blogging, and participating in platonic spankings with my friends, I kept comparing myself to more intense kinksters. My toybox didn’t contain whips, crops and rope, but (and not to say they’re not amazing) dildos, We-Vibe Tangos and butt plugs. Sure, to my vanilla friends I probably seemed like the kinkiest person, but in reality, I was feeling between worlds. I definitely wasn’t vanilla, but I definitely wasn’t as kinky as friends like Kate, Bex and Taylor. I felt unfulfilled and I started to feel ashamed, removing the “kinky” title from my Twitter bio, taking my sub lights down off my walls and using the word “sub” less in my online dating profiles.

Within the past year though, my urges to be more submissive were starting to ramp up. With spankings, deepthroating, any and all aggressive sex acts, I would be waiting for partners to push me over the edge, to make me really feel it. “Feel free to leave bruises I’d say,” but after a few swacks with the crop, partners would put down my implements to pursue other pleasures. The light kink would stop when the sex stopped: just actions, not a dynamic. My partners would reveal themselves as vanilla with kinky additions, not the full-on kinksters I needed them to be. Not that the sex wasn’t stellar in other ways, or that they weren’t eager to learn. Short relationships are just hard to explore the breadth of my kink desires.

Luckily I met a wonderful daddy dom at Woodhull during a chance elevator ride that has been slowly bringing back my submissive confidence. We didn’t get to connect that weekend, but have been having phone sex a lot since then and have developed a lovely daddy dom/baby girl relationship. He’s a very experienced kinkster himself, but his approach to d/s, at least with me, isn’t intimidating or scary. He’s a kind and gentle Daddy who instructs me to come for him. He makes me feel blissfully kinky, and I can’t wait to extend our relationship into in-person sex when I see him at the next Woodhull.

Online kink relationships have their downsides though, and while my dom stimulates me mentally, there’s no way I can feel his power physically through the phone. I can’t feel him spanking me, a hand at my throat or his cock inside me. Sometimes a girl yearns for more! Even with my confidence with our d/s dynamic via the phone, I still had worries that I wouldn’t really enjoy being beaten up in person.

It wasn’t until last month that all my feelings and thoughts about submission manifested in real time. A gentleman I had hooked up with on my final LA night was visiting Toronto on a business trip and asked if I was available for drinks. Our previous sex was good, with some thrown in spanking and dirty talk, so knowing he had a slight dom side to him, I decided to ask what toys of mine I should bring. When I was in LA I only had three with me and based on his spanking technique I had a feeling he may get a kick out of a new crop that needed to be broken in. I guessed correctly and soon was packing up my Doxy Die Cast, two dildos and my Tango along with my crop. Bearing my new collar on my neck, I headed to Toronto with expectations of a lavish and pant-warming evening.

My LA Dom treated me like the adorable submissive I am from beginning to end of the evening (and then some). We met at an old timey bar in Toronto where I felt uncomfortably exposed in my slutty attire. He walked me back to his room, where he told me to wait for him to grab his things from the hotel he stayed at the night before. He started undressing me before he left, and ordered me to be waiting naked on the bed for him when he arrived back in 10 minutes. After spending that time to take nudes and pictures of the swanky hotel room, I settled onto the bed and waited to hear the door unlock. When he got back we fell into the filtiest, sexiest puddle long together that lasted long into the morning. He pulled on my collar (HARD) and ordered me to “bend over for Daddy,” teasing my butt, leading into spanking me hard with my crop. I was a submissive mess; completely moldable putty in his strong and controlling hands as they gripped around my neck. I was deep into subspace, a feeling I had only experienced in minimal amounts before. I felt free by being completely controlled. During our evening, and after we were finished, I was provided aftercare only the best Daddy could give me, and I fell asleep blissfully in his arms.

My experience with submission has been complicated. From shame, to exploration, to imposter syndrom, to learning acceptance, I think I’m finally able to admit, without worry of claiming anything false, that I’m kinky and a huge fan of the d/s dynamic. My SUB sign had returned to my wall, and finally ready to admit it:

Hi! I’m Suz and I’m submissive.

This post was sponsored, but as always, all writing and opinions are my own!