Fetish Foibles, Part 3 – Social Submission

Welcome to Fetish Foibles, the series where I recount my mistakes as a Dominant for our mutual edification. In the wise words of Queen Clarisse of Genovia, “Don’t make the same mistakes I did; make your own mistakes!” 

This one’s a twofer. Both of these situations relate to the tricky issues that can come up with ‘public’ acts of submission (in kink-oriented settings). The first one is someone else’s foible, but it made me remember one of mine. 

Tl;dr – When experimenting with D/s in a social setting, clarify expectations with your partner and the people with whom you’re socializing. 

I had a strange and mildly unpleasant social experience at the local fetish club recently, which I’ll pick apart now. A Dom and sub asked to sit next to me on the sofa, which was fine. Then, the Dom sat on the sofa, and the sub knelt on a cushion in front of him and began to massage his feet. Neither party spoke to me after settling in. Now, normally, that sort of thing is my jam. Power exchange with service and protocol is often more interesting to me than play without power exchange. And not talking to people? Great! But in this situation, I felt like I had been roped into a scene as an unwilling spectator. 

We were sitting close enough together that I could have made eye contact with the sub while looking straight ahead. I felt like I was sitting too close to something so intimate. I’ll freely admit that I’ve gotten a bit desensitized to sex. I can watch a sex scene and think “Huh. That’s nice; they’re using protection. Good technique…” without getting hot under the collar. D/s protocol scenes are a different matter. It’s the vulnerability! *bangs fist on table* And the intimacy! Ahem. Anyway. This couple could have chosen any other location in the dungeon, including various chairs. I got the sense that they wanted others to be close and to watch. That’s not a bad thing in itself, but I had two issues, which I didn’t fully understand in the moment:

  1. They didn’t tell me they wanted to do this dynamic interaction when they asked to sit down, so I didn’t get to consent to being so close to the scene (generally speaking, it is etiquette here to stay at least a few feet away from a scene in progress). 
  2. They didn’t talk to me or even introduce themselves before starting their scene. I then didn’t feel like I could talk to them or ask for clarification, as they were cultivating an interaction with each other. I just happened to be mere inches away. 

Combined, these issues made me feel like a prop. A very awkward prop. 

Here’s what would have helped:

  1. They could have scened elsewhere in the dungeon. Granted, this couple may not have thought of what they were doing as a scene, but the sofas are generally social spaces, and these two were cultivating something very specific and personal. It felt different from the kind of socializing that D/s couples sometimes do, where the s-type sits on the floor in front of the D-type while they watch others play. 
  2. They could have introduced themselves and clarified what they wanted to do. The Dom could have said “Hi, I’m So-and-so, and this is Such-and-such. I’m speaking for her right now because she’s under protocol this evening and is only talking to me. We’d like to do a little foot massage scene here because it’s right in the middle of the dungeon, but we don’t want to invade your space…” And then, I probably would’ve thought “Cool!,” introduced myself, asked a couple of clarifying questions (like whether the Dom was open to socializing or wanted to focus on his sub), and had a lovely time watching. 

If they’d taken one of those steps, I would not have felt used (fortunately, I was able to make a fairly quick exit, as my sub prepared a space elsewhere to give me a massage). 

Now, that situation reminded me of a mistake I made many months ago, when my sub and I were experimenting with ways to show our D/s dynamic in kink spaces. The first time I brought him to the dungeon, I had him sit on a cushion on the floor in front of me. What we didn’t realize was that when people see that configuration, they sometimes assume that the floor-sitter is under some sort of speaking restriction protocol. My poor sub, social butterfly that he is, found himself largely left out of conversations because people did not know how to interact with him. 

On top of being in a new space and trying to meet new people, he was trying to be a good sub in a public setting for the first time, and my expectations of him weren’t clear. I simply hadn’t considered the practical, social implications of our physical positioning. It left him feeling unstable–and even unwanted. As the D-type in that situation, I should have clarified my expectations for his behavior and checked in with him about how the new protocol felt throughout the evening. If I had realized that people thought they weren’t supposed to talk to him, I would have clarified with them too, or I would have had him sit beside me so that he could converse more easily with others. 

Moral of the story: when using a public protocol, don’t assume that everyone’s on the same page. Clarify expectations with your partners and others in the immediate area. And if you’re the D-type in a situation that renders your s-type more vulnerable than usual, remember that your duty of protection extends into the social arena. 

Fetish Foibles, Part 2 – Cleaning Communication

Welcome to Fetish Foibles, the series where I talk about my kinky mistakes! Read Part 1 here

One thing I’ve discovered in my time as a Dominant is that I enjoy receiving practical, concrete acts of service. My sub enjoys serving. I present this scenario for your edified entertainment: my apartment needed cleaning. My sub and I decided to try a scenario during which he cleaned my apartment in the nude, that classic staple of D/s fantasy. I made him a list of things to do. He stripped naked and got to cleaning. 

I, meanwhile, caught up on homework. When he finished tidying and scrubbing, I ‘inspected’ his work, feeling like Mary Poppins in her white gloves. My sub confessed a few minutes later that he felt bad about my assessment. I realized that I had been overly harsh for the situation; I had fallen back on corny erotica tropes about cold, critical Mistresses who demanded perfection instead of treating the cleaning like the loving service that it was. While we cuddled, I apologized and thanked him for letting me know how he felt. Through that process, we discovered a few issues that made the task less satisfying for both of us than it could have been.

First, we came at the service from different standpoints. I wanted practical, time-saving service that would free me up to do other things. My sub wanted to clean as an extension of our erotic play, imagining me watching him, teasing him at various points throughout the service task. A more thorough discussion of our wants and expectations would have helped us both. 

Second, we threw nudity in without considering our task environment. If you’re gonna clean in the nude, remember the factors of chemical exposure and room temperature–my sub got cold! 

Third, I used a more critical approach to assess the work than I normally would–one that was not true to my needs or our D/s dynamic. In my sub’s case, it was reminiscent of a difficult dynamic from another part of his life that he didn’t enjoy. It is perfectly fine to negotiate a service task in which the Dominant acts very stern and critical, but that emotional dynamic should not be taken for granted or forced upon a situation where it has not been negotiated. 

Nowadays, I still assign practical service tasks that aren’t the slightest bit sexy for my sub (they’re still sexy for me; being served and obeyed is immensely satisfying in many ways), but I’m more mindful of the importance of clear communication about our expectations and desires from service.

Fetish Foibles, Part 1 – Play Partner Selection Error

Greetings, Beloved! I’m starting a little post series about mistakes that I’ve made over time as a kinkster in hopes that others will be edified and comforted. As Queen Clarisse Renaldi would say, “Don’t make the same mistakes I did…make your own mistakes!”

Today’s foible: play partner selection error. TL;DR – I suffered many fools for no good reason. #QuelleSurprise

Finding a trustworthy play partner can be a harrowing process, especially for women. So far, I haven’t had any traumatic experiences with people I’ve chosen to play and/or have sex with. I’m grateful for that. Early on, I wasted far too much time entertaining people (men) who were pushy, flaky, or just not evolved enough to engage with kink safely. 

For example, I once gave my phone number out to a guy who then revealed that he self-identified as a sociopath (a “socio”). He appeared to have no understanding of why that was a problem, and I actually tried to explain it to him

At the time, I had this strange idea that because I was a new Dominant, I had to “pay my dues” by putting up with mediocre experiences and attitudes. Please note, especially when you’re just starting to explore, mediocre experiences are part of life, even when the stars seem aligned for maximum pleasure. But there’s no need to waste time on people who don’t care about your needs. 

My first mediocre kink experience occurred on a kinky Discord server with an anonymous switch guy. I dommed him in a lengthy text-based roleplay scene (we must have texted about six hours in all!). While I enjoyed the scene, he kept wanting to interact with me as “Mistress” afterward and messaged regularly looking for dominant attention from me. I got overwhelmed and soon just stopped replying to his messages. We both made mistakes in that situation. He assumed that I would always interact with him as a Dominant without asking me what I wanted. I just went along with it and replied to his messages in the way that he wanted, feeling like it would be rude not to (until it was just too much and I had to jump ship). At the time, it didn’t occur to me that I could have said, “I enjoyed our play but I don’t have the energy to dominate you all the time” or even “Thanks for playing, but I don’t want to talk to you right now/anymore.” I was the flaky one (the flaker?) in that situation, though I don’t blame myself; he really should have known better. 

In other situations, I was the flakee. I would talk to guys who would disappear, only to pop up again weeks or even months later as though no time had passed. One guy was a combination of flaky, pushy, and unevolved. When he messaged me, I put a great deal of emotional labor into teaching him how to navigate FetLife respectfully. He ‘didn’t have time’ to go to munches. Nowadays, that would be an instant “Nope” from me. If you can make time to get fucked up the ass, you can make time to eat pancakes. Back then, I tried to be understanding. We met up briefly and scheduled a play session (we were both really interested in pegging). I bought lube, gloves, and a bulb enema for him. He cancelled at the last minute. We scheduled again. He cancelled. He tried to coax me into sending pictures of my strapon. At one point, I replied, “Too much trouble.” He didn’t message again for six weeks.

When he finally did, I was just laying the foundations of my dynamic with my current sub and told him that play was unlikely. He responded by pouting (“Oh I’m :/ well let me know if things change”). In his last message, he said he didn’t want to be “that annoying guy” but wanted to see one more time if I was interested. The sad part is, I don’t think he realizes that he became “that guy” a long time back. He was the stereotypical horny FetLife jerk, and I almost played with him. 

How do I avoid the jerks? Nowadays, I rarely consider anyone who doesn’t go to munches. And I pull back from any stranger who leaps to ‘submit’ to or ‘serve’ me for no good reason; that’s domism, and I’m not indulging it. Kink is a collaborative process. Most guys I met in my early exploration didn’t get that memo. 

I’ve also learned over time to weed out anyone who self-identifies as an “alpha male.” It leaks defensive, patriarchal shame, and I’m not taking the time to unpack that with random dudes anymore (for the record, I nope right past the “alpha females” too). My emotional labor is valuable. If a guy I’m talking to says something that rubs me the wrong way, I say so and (sometimes) give him a chance to correct himself. Seeing how someone reacts to being told “No” early on can be a great early indicator of how they’ll act later. Generally, I feel that I’m in a safe enough position to give second chances. Not everyone has that privilege, and I wouldn’t judge anyone who has more stringent boundaries. It feels good (though I roll my eyes at myself) to see how much I’ve grown in being able to set the boundaries that work for me. Do you have any “fetish foibles” to share? Had any play partner fiascos? Let me know in the comments! 

PS–Great video on how NOT to approach people in kinky contexts here

Featured image:  Caïn venant de tuer son frère Abel, by Henri Vidal in Tuileries Garden in Paris, France

File URL: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3b/Paris_Tuileries_Garden_Facepalm_statue.jpg

Attribution: Alex E. Proimos [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)] No changes were made to the image.