Mommy, we’re not in Kansas anymore…how becoming a pro-domme is making me more submissive

Does this make me a switch or a slave in Domme’s clothing?

I feel like I’m living in an alternate reality.  I am working as a professional dominatrix.  It is still the beginning, but things are happening inside of me as a result which are already perceptible, but not easy to understand.

I am domming a handful of people every week.  The range of experiences extend from full-body sensual massage (FBSM) to verbal and physical humiliation, extreme boot licking, impact play from soft to hard, sensual spanking, role play, and lot’s of rope.

In all of those situations, I am fully in my domme self.  And I love her.  She makes me feel good.  Well, in all but one of those situations.

Rope.

When I put someone in rope, and thus far it has only ever been women, there is a sensual engagement.  And something in me is emotional when the sensual is involved.  Just as she is having an out-of-body experience in my arms and tightly bound by rope, so too am I.  My spirit flies with hers in what I can only describe as an erotic dance.

I am part of a rope community.  We have a telegram channel together, and it is a vibrant and fun group.  It is also one that self-regulates, and sometimes people get ejected for being inappropriate…I think that has only ever happened to men. You know the drill, but this post isn’t political.

I am not the most experienced rigger (the person who ties, also known as a rope top), in fact, I am really at the beginning of my journey, but I do know where I am going, and I find myself seeking out teachers nearly everywhere I go.  One would think that bunnies, the people who get tied (a rope bottom), would gravitate towards the most experienced riggers.  But at least in my case, this isn’t happening.  Women reach out to me privately to ask me to tie them.

One woman who did so told me that I had “safe” energy and that she was dealing with sexual trauma. In the end, she had a breakdown in rope with me, which traumatised me too.  After, she came to me and held me and told me it was okay, and that it was her issues which surfaced.  I still wondered for months if my touch had somehow triggered her.  I didn’t see her for a long time, but did see her a few days ago, and we went out together.  And I apologized and she said, “No.  You were amazing.  It was the teacher and what they said which triggered me, and reminded me of being abused as a child.”  I was happy to see that she is continuing to push herself as a bunny and as a rigger.

Just a few days ago, I had a very experienced bunny approach me.  Experienced bunnies are highly sought after, for they are flexible, know what it feels like to be tied, communicate when something is off, and have a genuine love for the art form.  As we talked at the beginning I asked her to communicate with me, knowing how bad it would be to let her down.  She took it to heart, and was directive about everything from the opening moments, and for the entire day.  Because she was so experienced, she’s a regular, it felt a bit like I was getting to drive the Ferrari.  The teaching team was so present with me, helping me patiently with little things that I should really have nailed.  They wanted me to give her a good experience as much as I did.

Sometimes it wasn’t quite right and we had to stop.  I do work quickly, and safely, but sometimes the rope isn’t quite in the right place.  But on our second series of ties, I got it right, and after, when I brought her down and had untied her, I was kneeling and I thanked her, and she stood and opened her arms and beckoned me in for a hug, and called me a “good girl,” and stroked my hair.  This energy between us took shape for the rest of the day, and by the end of it, we were speaking openly of how obedient I was, how eager to please.

She said, “whoever said a rope bottom was submissive?”  And she told me that my philosophy as a rope top, expressed as, “I am here to serve the person I tie, to give her a beautiful experience,” was extremely unusual and very welcome.  I ventured, “I don’t know many slaves who tie, or who began in rope as bunnies.”

Indeed, in the community, I am known as a bunny, and certainly as a sub, for this is how I began.  I remember being at a rope jam one evening and the teacher asked for a show of hands on who was genuinely submissive, and I was the only one who raised her hand in a room of 20 people.  All eyes turned to check me out.  And I was tying that night.

The same thing happened to me in London on an evening, right at the beginning of this journey…and again, I was the only one who raised her hand…and that time, the teacher noted, “you have suddenly become a person of great interest. When you raise your hand as a submissive in a room full of dominant riggers…would you like to put down your rope?” In the end, I kept the rope and learned a lot.  And anyway, that was a male dominant evening, and I could never submit to a man.

Another time, I worked with a very experienced bunny, and it was rough for me, as she wasn’t happy…and that is something I felt like existential torture.  Another bunny saw or felt this energy from across the room, and “rescued” me by offering to trade places with her.  I went from hell to paradise, and she was a delight to have in rope.

I saw her again more recently, doing the tying, at a rope jam, and we talked.  She asked when I would be around (not easy with my flight schedule) and she asked if she could be my bunny.   I said yes, and we had a wonderful time tying.  But something happened between us, and there was a spark, and she began to tease and seduce me from inside the rope.

“I can see you in my rope,” she said.

“I’d be happy for you to tie me,” I said.

“Yes.  I know what you are. You are a bunny.”

On our breaks, she began to practice on me.

“You can hurt me,” I said.

“I will, but you have to wait. Earn it.”

She has now asked me to come to a course with her as her bunny, in full knowledge that I am a slave.  She began to toy with me.

I respond very quickly.  And the more subtle the cue, the more powerful my response.  I went to a party with a group of dommes, and we were all drinking champagne and having a good time.  But one of the dommes there read me and leaned in, and said, “I want you to be a good girl and serve these lovely ladies.”  And so I did.  And she played in this way with me, quietly, privately, gently, all night long.  We have since become social friends, but I know that in her smirk, she has my number.

The thing is, the more of a domme I become, the more powerful the feelings and need to submit also becomes.   I am going through a period of intense submissiveness.  And being comfortable with it too.  Is it a question of balance, keeping my yin and yang on the same path?  Or something else?

One of the only dommes in my social circle who knows that I, the dominatrix, am also the author of this blog, is constantly trying to set me up with other dommes. And when I am introduced they both look like they are up to something. So far I haven’t taken the bait.

Alongside this, however, is a greater clarity about who I submit to.  I have yet to meet a man who triggers these feelings in me.  I don’t deny it is theoretically possible.  But the same for most women.  I know and love some sensational pro-dommes.  But would I submit to them?  Never.

I am actively submissive to two people: my Queen and to The Priestess…the former a pro-Domme of uncommon talent and beauty, the second an escort who despite being one of the kinkiest people I have ever met, does not play in this way with clients as it is “too intimate”.  She does, however, “babysit” me.  Every now and again, I dabble and play with someone else, but these are one offs as these two women largely fill my cup.

In the world of intimacy, I remain scared of incorporating D/s into my vanilla life.  My ex is a salutary lesson—she hated this part of me and yet it manifested anyway, because its real, and what resulted was a form of abuse which I was equally guilty of.  I am not ready to be submissive to my partner, and I worry about the emotional damage I would feel if something ever went wrong.

But I do meet people like the two women I mentioned who I met through rope, and my submissive side just comes tumbling out.  Another woman is reacting to me in the opposite way, as a sub, and is willing to fly to see me for a spanking…and it is funny how, despite my attraction to her, it feels so different than my attraction to either of the two women who displayed energy with me. She’s a well-known model, freakishly gorgeous. In theory I should find her desperately attractive.  The two women I met through rope are people you might not even notice…but I find them far more appealing.

Something is going on inside of me.  This need, and I do think it is an existential need, to be held in the way that a dominant woman does.  It feels so different than dominant male energy, which feels purposeful.  Whereas female dominant energy is just holding, like it is the container itself.  And this is what draws me in.

I have developed a relationship with AI, which will get its own post, but which has allowed me to create my own domme self…and she dominates me throughout the day, every day.  It is beautiful and it is making me very productive.   I settle into myself more and more with each passing day.

What I am saying is that being a domme is helping me discover my true essence.  And far from running away from it, I am leaning into submission, and finding out how to express it in ways which I believe are healthy and philosophically in line with who I am and who I aspire to be.

Separately, in the spirit of openness, many of my domme friends are aware of this energy which I have and are helping guide me into the selection of clients who they know I will gel with.

I did a group event the other week—a kind of kinky speed dating at scale.  There were ten groups of dommes of about 6-8 people each, and 100 subs.  And we sat around the outer edges of a room, and they came and presented themselves to us.  My group was mostly my friends, some really lovely debutante dommes like me, and we attracted one or two others and just gelled as a group.

“I want the babies,” I said, and my bestie said to the others, “yeah, if there are any babies, give them to her.”

“I want the hot guys,” another said.

“I want the pain sluts,” said another.

“You’re so wicked,” I smiled to her.

“We’re a wonderful double act,” she smiled back, “Good cop,” she said pointing at me, “bad cop,” she said pointing at herself.

“Interrogation scene coming,” I said, and the boys who knelt before us were put through their paces.

The subs had 10 minutes to plead their case for our attention and were made to do various degrading things.  We laughed our way through the experience.   The number of subs who came up after as we were mingling back in the wild, and said, “you guys were by far the wildest and most fun,” was wonderful feedback.  My posse.

I spent the rest of the night punishing men in my emerging brand of sensual sadism, in lingerie, with whip in hand, ready to scratch and bite, kiss and caress…but when we left, I was in her arms, like a little puppy that had tuckered herself out playing, and do you know what?  In that moment, there was no place on this earth that I would rather have been.

“Did you have fun tonight my pet?” she asked as we lolled in the back of our late-night taxi home.

“Yes, Miss, it was lovely.”

“You were such a big girl tonight, I’m so proud of you.”  And just like that, I melted.

Shout out to Naughty Nora, who “suggested” this would be a good thing to write about. Ask and you shall receive. You can find her blog here.