The night I first dommed, I was running late. My phone was dead, it was dark and terribly cold, so I decided to charge it in a bubble tea shop before calling up my client and getting directions to his place. It was further south than I usually travelled, in a residential area, although it was still Brooklyn. People lived in houses, not apartments, which seemed strange to me. Eventually I got there. Understandably, I was nervous, but the man was quite sweet. He took my coat, made small talk and gave me a glass of water before leading me into his living room through the kitchen. It felt strange to me that I had come here to hurt this man.
The first thing that struck me was the man’s size. He was quite large. Not just tall, but wide and strong looking, like a construction worker or something. He was in his forties, with greying hair, a definite paunch and thick muscular arms. This was not the sort of person I had in mind when I thought submissive. Nevertheless, here he was, paying me to harm him and trusting me not to cross any lines. It was a heady feeling, to look at him and know this.
In the living room, I put on the stockings that he had provided. They were black fishnets, which felt appropriate in a strange sort of way. I undressed, taking off my clothing quickly if a bit clumsily. He told me I didn’t have to, but I took them off anyways. I felt that I would be more confident, more sensual naked. I proceeded to knee him in the groin, step on his body, and kick him for what felt like an hour, but was probably twenty minutes. After a while, his groin started to sting, not just hurt, and we decided to call things off before it got any worse.
He apologized for cutting it short, and paid me the full two hundred dollars, even as the agreement had been for thirty minutes of kicking. I was floored, but tired not to show it. As I got dressed he asked if I wanted him to call a cab or something, seeing as it was so late and I was getting home. He expressed to me that he was a bit of a shut in and worried about going out to a great degree, the worries stemming from his anxiety disorder. I commiserated with him on that count, as I too have an anxiety disorder. When we finished chatting I walked to the subway station, never to see him again. I talked to him online over a website called Fetlife, which is where I initially came into contact with him, but I never met him again after that.
Reflecting on it during the subway ride back to Pratt, I realized that I had a lot of fun that night. It wasn’t some sexual thrill, but the satisfaction of giving someone what they needed on my own terms. I got to be bossy and physically dominating in a way I simply wasn’t in my day-to-day life. I would go on to dominate other clients, bt it was a wonderful first time foray into being not just assertive, but in control. I suppose I still have a taste for control, and even harming people, as long as they enjoy it. I wouldn’t have understood that about myself if not for the work I took.
Image by Toni Chadwell