“How does he dominate you?”
I was a bit taken aback by the question, indeed by the entire situation. I was in Los Angeles, on an extremely raw, wet and chilly Friday night. I was making an appearance on an internet radio show with a panel of folks that consisted of myself, two other kinky woman and, inexplicably, a cranky middle-aged Muslim dude who had no problem calling a rival Muslim sect “savages” and comparing some of their practices, unfavorably, with BDSM.
Trust me, it was a strange night, and that was only the beginning.
The host of the show on which I was appearing had managed to throw me off stride with a rapid succession one-two punch of oddly impactful, thought-provoking questions. The first specifically addressed “The Dominant Guy“…who was he exactly? And what sort of relationship did we have? I honestly can’t recall what I answered. I was kinda surprised, as I often am when people research my shit, pay attention to my freaky little life, and then call me out. I’m sure I said something. The follow-up undercut was a very intensely delivered question which, coming from a slender, older blonde woman in a bra and thong wearing a hat worthy of a Sunday morning stroll to church, had that additional j’ne sais pas.
“So, The Dominant Guy. Tell me. How does he dominate you?”
I did start to answer the question but the mad juggernaut of the show rolled over my not-too-well-formed attempt at response. In retrospect? She probably wanted delicious tidbits about what happens, physically, when it comes to our relationship. It was that sort of chat. But of course I, the over-thinker, shot down in my brains to the basement of the Emotional Central Bank and started furiously categorizing the vagaries of one of the more ineffable aspects of M/S relationships: the HOW.
The “WHY?” I got that shit down pat. I’ve been talking about that shit for many, many years now. But the fact is, I can count on 4 fingers the people who have gotten me even close to or temporarily in the state of Reflexive Obedience. This seeming indescribable, delicate spell was not something I wanted to unravel: I’d previously had little to no desire to look behind the curtain. So, the “How” of their technique wasn’t something I’d analyzed.
Thing is? Of the four? Two weren’t even consciously making an effort to obtain my submission. I poured it out onto cold stones that drank it up unconsciously and, when it was absorbed, gave little in return. Initially I’d assumed this was just the way it was in these relationships. After all, we were to give all and, in return, be grateful for a place to serve and an owner who would graciously accept the service. In the long-term, that paradigm didn’t work well for me, and neither did the relationship where my submissiveness was unconsciously triggered by someone who had little interest in nurturing it.
With my first formal M/S-tracked relationship, I had the novelty of newness working me, as well as the starry-eyed smitten feelings of love for my Trainer. I was permitted to feel as much love, dedication, passion, adoration, etc as would cement my service ethos: however I was NOT to expect those emotions to be returned at all or in part, unless they served his needs. In that case, control was levied by way of the sensation of always having to earn one’s place. The constant striving added a complex degree of control, with the domination being fed directly by my desire to be recognized as worthy.
The Dominant Guy hadn’t the luxury of my falling madly in love with him as a result of a rather impactful first interaction. In fact, he had an uphill battle to grab the reins since his life situation, as it stands, looks nothing like what I was seeking in a dominant or owner. A LDR is one thing I do not seek. Poly is another. Married to a Primary? Three strikes you’re out: knock the clay off of your cleats and take that long walk back to the dugout, baby.
Conditions such as these typically render folks into human B2 bombers; low, slow and invisible to my heart’s radar. Sure, flirting’s fine. Play a bit? Why not? If I think you’re cool and I dig ya, and you check out when I send out my feelers to check you out. But you ain’t getting past the moat, motion-sensitive mine field, guard dogs and remote controlled laser-sighted machine guns ready to take out anyone stoopid enough to try to touch me deeply when they’re saddled with that many disqualifiers.
But somehow TDG deactivated all of that. I do not know all of the hows, but I know how I felt and I have some ideas of how it works to trigger my submission.
The first interactions we had were marked by my feeling inexplicably off-balance around him. If I pull that apart, I can attribute some of that to the degree of energy his focus carries. If we were in the same space, and he was observing me, it was unnervingly palpable. This had the effect of somewhat disabling my capacity to focus on the task at hand, or the conversation I was having. You wanna control someone? Jam their frequencies. Be there every time they turn around. Give them the impression that, if they relax their guard for even a trice (or even if they don’t) you’ll have them lightningflashquick, on the ground, teeth to the pulse in their throat…
Yeah, I know. Easier said than done and you’d have to ask TDG how he does that shit. Though I doubt you’ll receive the answer you think you want. But by the time you have me paying that much attention to you, my self-control’s started to slip into your reach. His focus pulled mine, and at that point the first command line was established: he had the capacity to draw my attention and focus to him with mere presence.
Establishing and voicing desire is, I would say, the next part of this dance for me. Once I know someone I find interesting also finds me interesting, my level of focus, observation, my openness to energy exchange shifts. I’ll be more likely to take flirtation seriously (usually I assume flirtation is merely friendly and fun, not all that serious unless smacked upside the head with it) once it is established that the attraction’s mutual. This goes hand-in-hand with the intention behind that desire. I’ve been in situations where someone to whom I was attracted seemed mutually attracted as well, but they had little interest beyond a flirt, maybe casual play. So it takes a fully realized and clear intention once the mutual interest has been established to coax me towards considering possibilities.
Possibly the most important and most elusive aspect of dominating me is intelligence, and this is multi-faceted. I’m pretty fucking smart. Tests and shit have backed this up, and I was raised to believe in the power and strength of my intellect. Which is awesome. However? For me to submit to someone? They will, in general, going to HAVE to be at least AS intelligent, bright and curious as I am.
Furthermore, they not only have to have some facet of intelligence that outstrips mine, they have to be able to flex that without pegging the needle into the red on the ArrogantFuck Douche-O-Meter©. That winnows the field even further. In TDGs case, there was an immediately evident similarity in our communication styles and humor, the size of our personalities. The kicker, and where he pulled ahead of me in a way that hinted at the capacity for a power exchange,was that his level of emotional and spiritual intelligence seemed quite beyond that I’d seen previously in a dominant male. His conversational challenges were fascinating to me, and pushed my trains of thought to jump track and take new paths along unexpected routes.
I knew I trusted him mentally when I received a phone call from him one day and he wanted to discuss something on which I’d written and published publicly. He brought up the point I’d made, and when I acknowledged my position, he countered that my assertion was…wrong. As my brain processed the impulses carried through my cell phone and through my ear-bones, part of me laughed. shocked. “Oh shit! Who the fuck does he…I…what the fu…wrong?! Oh no he di’int! Oh hellz naw, mafucka…its ON! ME?? WRONG?!? Prepare for the smackdown…”
However? Despite the fact that this rather brash and presumptuous statement would normally have resulted in a zesty verbal flameout, the Mo Internal Committee actually stood down and said “Whoah. Bold statement, dude. Why do you think so?”
As I observed my reaction, I thought “Well! That…never ever happens. Wonder what that means.” I can now say I do readily submit to the fact that he has knowledge on several levels to which I choose to submit because he has demonstrated himself to be astute, straightforward, consistent and trustworthy. And because my gut trusts him too. And remarkably? When he doesn’t know something? He shares that with me too. I find it a mark of a truly grounded individual to be able to tell about what you don’t know.
Seductive dominance, that quality of enticing the person you wish to be in your control by providing them just enough stimulation to hook their interest, then playing the line to reel them in, and watch the hook insinuate itself deeper…that’s the most difficult to work. It takes patience on everyone’s part. I am far, far more patient a person than I was when first I became involved in the BDSM and Leather communities. I’ve had some gentle and some rather brutal lessons on learning to become patient in the past 14+ years. I’ll be honest? Lots of that shit sucked ass.
Some are born patient, some achieve patience, and some have patience thrust upon ’em. (Sorry, Bill.)
The thing about the slow roll seduction is that the glacial seeming pace protracts each stage of the relationship and increases the likelihood that the sweetness of anticipation can sour into a stagnation of frustration and disappointment. Finding ways to keep the connection vibrant and relevant is a challenge, especially when the dominance is entirely mental and spiritual,due to vanishingly limited time to be in one-another’s physical presence. That TDG is, like me, a Storyteller, someone who can enrapture and challenge my imagination goes a long, long way towards nurturing my capacity to see that value in being patient, trusting that the seemingly impossible can, somehow, be not only alright, but special and highly desirable.
To be seduced by someone’s mind, by their words, by the ineffable nature of their desire and energy is remarkably seductive. Sealing the deal on the seduction thing is his voice. I know a whole lot about the techniques one uses to manipulate people by way of speech, delivery, and how what is not said packs sometimes even more of a wallop than what is said. That being said? I cannot overstate his capacity to break my concentration and pull me about with his voice alone. I have, at least once, been reduced (literally, mind you.) to a wide-eyed, nerveless drooling mess by the impact of a voicemail. It doesn’t take long for me to be within moments of a full-body orgasm when he chooses to pull me there with the call of words and the energy that they invoke. The subtlest shift in tone can invoke a sharpness in my focus, or a loosening of the roots of my resistance. Voice control is something one sees discussed quite a bit in various online fora, and I’ve had some previous experience in being controlled that way. The connection I have with TDG, even in this very nascent stage, is remarkable in its capacity to get me to a very deeply reflexively obedient state rather quickly, and surely.
How does he dominate me?
Any deeper “How” isn’t really my business and I’m done picking through it for now.
He does it because it is what satisfied his need to control, possess and consume, and he seems to have quite a few skills in his arsenal with a lethal efficacy in that department. I am more pleased about being the object of that brand of attention than I have been about many things in my life.
Pulling apart the “How.” is interesting…but simply slipping into the stream If that inexorable dominant energy doesn’t require me to pull anything apart, or to analyze one motherfucking thing.
It just requires me to be, To accept. And by being open, in the moment, and accepting his dominance, I may transcend the “How” and embrace the “Yes.”
And thank you.