It took months of debating and self-assessment to decide whether I should act on the desire to explore total submission that is coupled with strict discipline. Locally it meant that I had to explore the fringes of the BDSM world, and although I am very comfortable in the spanking environment, it took a lot of courage to finally take a very tentative step into the unknown. However, anyone that reads Uncle Nick’s blog will know by now that it turned out to be a disastrous first experience.
I do not hide the fact that I have a dominant personality, but yet, that I am submissive. My self-awareness and understanding of my psyche in relation to the desire to submit, is also at a level where I acknowledge that certain actions, conscious or sub- conscious, are purely based on assessing whether the person commanding submission, is truly a dominant, and a strong dominant at that. I have a tendency to push against set boundaries, simultaneously testing that the boundary posts are not moved to make an allowance for my actions, and that where I have overstepped, real consequences whatever they may be, will follow.
However, where consequences are concerned, it is based on mutual and informed consent. I should also be able to fully trust the person in all aspects, to experience care and nurture at the same time as it is not a weakness, but a further strength in the person responsible for the submissive. With all of that in mind, an initial get together with a “Dom” lasted nearly three hours in a local restaurant. Some more conversation followed the following day, in which I agreed to a second meeting to further discuss whether he would be right person in terms of what I need. Due to circumstances this meeting took place at his house, which, yes, in hindsight, I should have never agreed to.
It turned out that he had a serious drinking problem, and within an hour or so was totally drunk. As the drinking escalated during the hour, so did his aggression. His ideas and theories around what a true dominant male should be and act as, were nothing more than a wall to conveniently hide sadistic and abusive tendencies behind. Apart from thrashing the local BDSM scene as pretentious, fake and only for show, he built in his need for alcohol by mocking an important safety rule, apparently within the local BDSM group: “No play when alcohol has been consumed”.
A total illogical and surreal speech was made where BDSM where likened to Afrikaner culture, and it was during this speech that the danger signs appeared. I was informed that he wanted to slap me (and my assumption was in the face) at the previous meeting, because I had the audacity to reply to a waitress without asking him first as he was the “host”. Upon correcting him that I arrived first, it was a meeting between two adults with no prior arranged consent to do anything but talk, that I was responsible for my own bill, a list was set out of what will be allowed and what will not be allowed.
Between the glasses of brandy with some very limited Coke and ice, I was informed that he will decide when and what I will say to Uncle Nick. I will not mingle with the local BDSM scene, yet in another breath, he wanted me to go to a local upcoming BDSM function. His desires will always come first, and as far as what he was concerned, the needs of a submissive are of no importance. Somehow, in his mind, I have somewhere along the line agreed to be “trained”.
I was locked in a house with him, and I had no idea where the keys were, and no words can describe the cold feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach. Fortunately as he became drunker, he also became more uncoordinated and off balance, and towards the end of the ordeal, it appeared that he was ready to pass out. I did finally manage to leave relatively unharmed, partially due to some well placed text messages and calls from Uncle Nick, however, it took several days to make peace with the fact that I had to ‘submit’ to certain demands in order to do so.
My initial reactions of total rage, coupled with a sore body and feeling totally violated although no sexual acts were required, left a very bitter taste in my mouth towards the BDSM scene. However, common sense did prevail, and although so easy to do, the actions of one man cannot be transferred onto a group, nor can they be held accountable.
The sad thing though, like a true alcoholic, his response to my text message that I will not be seeing him again under any circumstances, reflected that he most likely did not remember half of what he did or said. A harsh and scary experience, I do admit, but at the same time, my desire to continue exploring has not diminished, and after receiving some moral and emotional support from individuals within the BDSM community (local and internationally), I do know that I will be okay.
