With the first sting of the whip, I’d vow to kill the motherfucker. I’m sure I would. A Dom would have to use a muzzle or gag on me, as I’d threaten his very existence as he tortured me. And when he set me free, which he’d have to do eventually, well, he’d be the one running scared. Of that, I am certain.
Perhaps I’d be better suited as the dominator. But then again, I could never bring myself to hit a person. Hurting someone’s feelings is a thing I hate. Actually hurting someone physically isn’t a thing I could do or condone.
So how am I supposed to talk to a person who actively does these things without judging them?
If I ask a question such as, “How does it make you feel to hit a woman?” and get a truthful answer, then what will I do?
If a man were to tell me that he gets joy out of hitting a woman, then I’d detest him. A man who bound a woman, then hit her and took her sexually, well, he’d be a person I couldn’t stand.
So what the hell am I doing? Why am I thinking about trying to talk to someone who I think is evil? What the hell is wrong with me? And what would my family think of me for even contemplating this?
Sitting back, I try to rationalize my thoughts. Like a reporter, I don’t have to agree with anything when I’m trying to get information. I can ask questions, get my answers, and move on from the monster.
It’s not as if I’m going to ask some Dom to take me on and show me what happens in their dark world. I’d never do that!
My hand moves to the laptop and pulls it open. It’s like my will has taken over as I type ‘BDSM Clubs’ into the search engine. My fingers hesitate as I see the first link to a club with an actual website. It’s called “The Dungeon of Decorum”, and I click it.
Looking over the page that opens, I find a message board and type in Is there anyone in this club who’d like to help me learn more about the real world of BDSM?
Now to see if anyone wants to respond …
Pierce
Birds chirp, waking me from a deep sleep. Blinking my eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight that’s pouring through my pale green, sheer- curtained window, I stretch and yawn with the onset of the weekend. With no plans made, I think I’ll make myself a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and wheat toast, then head to the gym. Maybe I’ll just let the day take me wherever it wants to.
Moving to the bathroom, I turn on the shower, letting the steamy water heat the cold tiles. Multiple jets shoot the water out, hitting almost the entire surface of the tiled walls. Padding over to the sink, I brush my teeth, floss, then rinse with mouthwash.
Into the shower I go, pouring an expensive shampoo I found online last week into my palm. It smells like leather and sandalwood, making me feel exceptionally masculine. In no time at all, I’m bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and dry off, then dress in casual clothing. Jeans, a T-shirt, and running shoes will suffice.
Heading downstairs to the kitchen, I find the fridge well-stocked. Edith, my house manager, has made sure I’m ready to cook for myself through the weekend, like I always do. I give the staff every weekend off. I prefer to be alone in my home when I’m off. They come in after I leave for work each weekday and are gone before I come home.
During the week, I take my meals in town. Most of the time, I get home around eight and usually hit the hay pretty early. I’m a faithful subscriber to the idea that early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. So far, it’s worked wonders for me!
After making my breakfast, I take it to the table and open up my laptop to see what’s going on around Portland this weekend. As always, I check the club’s website first to see if any of the subs have posted anything I might be interested in.
The name Jade Thomas is the first thing I see as I scan the message board. I’ve never seen that name on here before. And she’s asked a question.
Is there anyone in this club who’d like to help me learn more about the real world of BDSM?’
“Jade Thomas,” I say out loud. “And what does this young lady want to know, I wonder?”
Without hesitation, I ask my own question, What do you want to know more about our world for?
I begin to eat my oatmeal as I wait to see if she’ll answer me. It takes no time before I see her response. Just curious. And is your real name Dr. Power?
Laughing, I type back, No, we don’t use our real names on this site. But I bet you did, Jade Thomas.
Eating my toast, I watch the screen, eager to see her reply.
That is my real name. What’s your real name? You see, I’m looking for a person who will be honest with me about the goings on in the BDSM scene. If you can’t be honest enough to tell me your name, then I shouldn’t waste any more of your time.
Thinking about the fact that she might be wasting my time, I ask, Where are you from, Jade?
She’s quick to answer, The United Kingdom. If you’re worried about me outing you to society or something like that, you needn’t worry.
“A Brit,” I say to myself. She’s far enough away, I doubt her knowing my real name would hurt a thing. I type in, Pierce Langford.
Thank you, Pierce Langford. First, I’d like to tell you that I’m majoring in creative writing at a university in North Wales. My goal is to become a romance author. I’d like to specialize in the erotic genre. But I need some information about certain topics. Topics like the BDSM scene. I don’t fully understand it. Oh, who am I kidding, I don’t understand it all. Are you by chance a Dom?
I am. Why, you looking for one? I type in.
Purely to ask questions to, nothing more than that. Are you up to answering some questions for me, sir?
Her use of the term sir lets me know she’s a respectful woman. But I should find out how old she is before I give her such information. Before I divulge information that might warp a young mind, I need to know your age and your sexual experience, Jade.
Thoughtful of you, sir. My age is 23, and my sexual experience is limited to masturbation. I am a virgin.
“Holy fuck!”
My mouth’s watering with the thought that she’s a virgin. I wonder what she looks like!
Cool. Not a problem. As long as you’re of age and have an inkling about what kinds of answers you’ll be getting from me, I’m good with answering your questions. So, shoot me one.
An entire minute goes by before anything appears. Is there a private area we can do this, sir?
I think about it for a moment, then decide to give her my personal touch. Do you have a Skype account?
I do. I prefer not to video conference though, if you don’t mine.’
“Hmm, must be an ugly duckling. That’s most likely why she’s still a virgin.”
I type in, Not to worry, I won’t try to video chat with you. My number is 999-987-0099. I’ll be waiting for your message, Jade.
In no time at all, she’s messaged me, and a little ding comes from my phone. I pull it up on my computer to make typing easier and find even her profile picture on the site is nothing but a red rose. I find it funny, as my picture is a black rose with thorns on it.
Hi, Pierce. Do you mind if I call you that? I don’t want to establish a submissive relationship with you and just realized that by calling you sir, I am doing just that.
I chuckle as I write back, You may call me that. So, what’s your first question?
Much too quickly she sends back, Do you like to hit women?
Not happy with the question, I fire back, If this is some hater who wishes to berate me for what I am and enjoy doing, then you can go to hell!
Another quick response comes from her, No! Sorry. Please don’t take any of my questions in an offensive manner. None of them are meant to offend you. All are meant merely to learn about this lifestyle. Nothing more than that. I simply want to know if you took up this practice because you had a fetish about hitting people or women in general.
Letting my anger subside, I give it a minute to settle. She’s just curious. I have to remember she’s young and naïve
.
This is not a thing I started because of a need to hit anyone. I was having difficulty at work. I needed an outlet. I was introduced to this world. I joined this club and found that submissives wanted certain things done to them. I took classes and learned how to give them what they asked for. And I became good at it. You see, some people like pain, Jade. Some people crave it. I administer the thing they feel they need. I do it with them in mind. Not for myself.
Three minutes tick by before she sends me another question. Do you have an exclusive relationship with your sub?
I don’t. I never have.
Do you have a commitment phobia? Or anything in your past that caused you to enjoy this lifestyle?
Weighing the question so I can answer truthfully, I finally type, Perhaps I do have a commitment issue. I wouldn’t call it a phobia. And nothing is in my past that’s messed up my mind, contrary to what a lot of people think about us.
How old are you? she asks.
35.
Again, some time goes by before she writes anything else. Then the words appear on the screen. I’d like to be clear on what type of Dom I’m talking to. Are you a heterosexual, Pierce?
I am. Are you?
Yes. I only ask as I want to write M/F romances and spending time talking to a man who likes men would do me no good. Do Doms only dole out punishments? And if not, have you received any?
One can play both ends of the spectrum if they want to. There are no rules stating that once a sub always a sub or once a Dom always a Dom. When I was in training, I was hit by my trainer. That way I would know what it felt like to be hit with the items I was taught to use. But no sub has ever hit me. Nor do I plan on that ever happening. I rule.
The pause she takes is so long, I begin to wonder if she’s decided to stop our interview. Then I see her next question.
Are you the type who wants to rule everything? And if so, why do you not have an exclusive sub?
Her question has me pondering it. Do I want to rule everything? I have no idea. I’ve never done that. The two live-in girlfriends I had certainly needed a firmer hand than I had back then. If I found a woman that I wanted to keep around, I think I’d like to make the rules.
With my answer, I type, Your question is a first for me. I looked deep inside myself and found I would like to rule if I ever found a sub I wanted to keep with me for any length of time. I prefer things certain ways and would train a sub to do things the way I like them done.
Do you feel women are inferior?
Her question nearly knocks the wind out of my sails.
Quickly, I reply, Not at all. You see, most of us in the BDSM world don’t think on those terms. Women and men have their roles to play in life. With the rise of women’s liberation, women have lost more than they’ve gained. Once upon a time, women were the esteemed nurturers of the family, the keepers of the children, the homes, and their husbands. They made sure all things on the home front were taken care of well and were proud of their job. Men went to work and provided money and security, not only in the financial form but also in the protection department. They made and upheld the rules and used different forms of discipline to enforce them.
I give pause to allow my words to sink into her head. With the way things have changed in the last fifty or so years, most women balk at this way of thinking, calling it ancient and useless. I wait to see how Jade will respond.
I’ve never thought about it like that.
A smile moves over my lips. “Good girl.”
Jade
Only a few questions in, and already he has me thinking differently. What he says is true. Women had it much easier before we decided we wanted to be equals in all ways. Not so long ago, women stayed home with the kids. They didn’t have to worry about work or paying bills. That was the man’s job.
Nowadays, mothers and wives go off to work and some have to actually leave their homes for days at a time. That’s left a generation of children who’ve been raised by strangers. People who work at the many daycare facilities that have sprung up all over the industrialized world now are responsible for the caring and nurturing of most babies and children that mothers once took care of all on their own.
Women now depend on their husbands to step up and take care of the children too. All chores are shared, and while that seems fair, I’ve seen a good number of frazzled parents in my time. Both are sleep deprived. Both have the weight of making sure the bills are paid on their backs. And both have the responsibility of finding great jobs and keeping them, no matter how much pressure comes with that.
Men’s minds have also been changed. Most men, back in the day, wouldn’t have their wives working. They’d have been considered deadbeats or losers if they sent their wives to work outside the home. Nowadays, it’s expected. And in a few words, Pierce has brought this home to me. How odd that I never thought of it before.
I can see Pierce’s side. Then again, as a woman with a brain that begs for knowledge and gentle pressure to expand and learn more all the time, I can see why women fought to be let out of the house. I have also seen stay-at-home mothers who resemble zombies and have difficulty putting a sentence together, much less being able to have conversations with other adults.
There are pros and cons either way you decide to live. That’s just a simple fact of life.
My next question is a bit hairy, and I hope I don’t offend the man again as I type, I now understand how you think about the sexes. What I don’t understand is where the domination comes into play. Nor the physical punishments that come along with BDSM. Can you explain this to me?
The physical punishments are accepted or rejected by each submissive. It is she who helps shape the agreements that are made between a Dom and his sub. Another thing you must not be aware of is that submissives hold all the cards. One simple word is all it takes to stop anything. It’s not quite the torturous world people make it out to be. And nothing happens to a sub that they’re against. That would be illegal, wouldn’t it?
I suppose it would. So these agreements are the contracts that bind the sub to the Dom? I ask.
They are, he answers me quickly. But you must keep in mind that even a signed contract that’s been painstakingly worked out between the two parties still doesn’t give the Dom the right to proceed with any punishment or action if the sub doesn’t want it. No matter if she agreed to it in the first place or not. And a good Dom doesn’t want to inflict any pain, or pleasure, for that matter, that his submissive doesn’t want.
I find it hard to believe the man. I mean, he could tell me whatever he wants to. Because what woman wants to be ruled over and beaten? So, I ask, Pierce, what types of women want to be treated this way?
There are women from various walks of life who seek this lifestyle, maybe not all the time, but some of the time. You see, when you get into this world, you find that anything is okay. If you want to live this way all the time, then you can. If you want to dabble, you can do that too. There are no set rules, except those that govern our society. SSC—safe, sane, consensual—was put into use to make sure all who are involved in this type of lifestyle have a level of protection. Clubs keep the members in line too. That’s why it’s always a good idea to join one and only get involved with people who are part of one. There are enforcers who make sure no one is hurt beyond the point they’ve asked to be. If you’re interested in being an onlooker, you can join a local club in your area and let them know what you want. We have voyeurs too. But I must warn you, it’s not easy to watch if you have no idea about what the people truly feel. It looks brutal, after all.
That it does, Pierce. And about that. You said you were hit when you were training to be a Dom. Can you explain why anyone would want that?
While I never got to the state of euphoria, I’ve heard it described as flying. It’s a high that one gets when endorphins swarm the brain. At that point, when you add in sexual stimulation, it’s mind blowing. Some have described it as an out-of-body experience that took them to n
ew levels in their minds and souls. You can see how one would enjoy that and seek it over and over again.
Yet you’ve never done that? I ask, as I have no idea why he’d want to only inflict pain and get nothing out of it.
I’m more of a giver than a taker. Always have been.
You make it sound noble, what you do, I type.
In a way, it is. Can you imagine if you had this itch in the middle of your back and you tried everything to scratch it yourself—rubbing your back on the door frame, trying to find a stick long enough to get to the exact spot you needed it to, but you couldn’t reach it, no matter what you did? Then along came some person who could easily scratch that itch for you, but he didn’t want to inflict any type of pain on you. If you think about it, running one’s sharp fingernails across another person’s flesh sounds painful. Yet it eases the itch, relieving the person of their problem.
“Wow!” I say to myself. “This guy’s kind of deep. I didn’t expect this.”
He goes on, adding, A doctor also causes his patient pain on many occasions in order to treat an ailment. Does anyone consider him immoral?
My mind is swarming with more questions, yet I feel as if he’s winning me over to his way of thinking. So, I ask, When you’re hitting your subs, do you get sexually stimulated? I ask this because a doctor doesn’t get turned on by giving his patient pain. Nor does anyone get turned on by helping someone scratch an itch they can’t reach.
Time goes by, and I think he might be trying to figure out how to word his answer. Finally, the screen lights up.
Jade, you ask exemplary questions. The fact is that I do get turned on by what I do. Feminine screams and moans make my cock hard. But if you’d like to know the truth, your questions have stirred an erection too. You see, the libido is an odd thing. When you’re young, the slightest breeze across your dick can make it go hard. As we get older, other things cause sexual excitement. A soft whisper uttered into an ear, a touch from a beautiful woman, a stimulating conversation between strangers. I bet you’re a remarkable young woman.
Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 58