Memoires of a Dominant Ch. 01

Big Tits

I would say that I spend a good seventy five percent of my effort, minimum, when talking about BDSM, actively contradicting common wisdom on the topic. And it must really seem, at times, like I’m simply contrarian on the matter. Given how I go out of my way to challenge almost every perception and preconception about it, sometimes, I must seem like one of those guys that just has got to be different. And since I am a professed dominant, I suppose I can’t really assure you that there’s no truth to that.

But the funny thing is that if I were going to write a character in some kinky story based on myself, nobody would buy it. Not because he’d be too outlandish, but just the opposite. He’d seem wholly unoriginal, like I took the most clichéd perceptions about dominants and rolled them up into a completely trite, two dimensional character. Nobody would believe it.

Of course, I’m talking about the actual traits that real people with profoundly dominant natures tend to demonstrate. I mean ones that people who have spent time around lifestyle circles know and alternate between loving and hating. Not the ones that people prefer to suppose or depict in fiction.

First off, let’s get the rough one out of the way. Yes, I came from an abusive childhood environment, including a couple fairly traumatic events. I strongly recommend that you don’t bring this one up in lifestyle circles, though. It tends to piss people off when you suggest that one of the cornerstones of their identity is actually a dysfunction caused by childhood trauma. But, I have no problem admitting that it helped shape me in profound if not always positive ways, some that still haunt me now into my forties. And I won’t say that everyone with that background comes to this lifestyle or that everyone in this lifestyle comes from that sort of background. But I will say, from personal experience, that out of scores of people I’ve talked about to in these circles, that I have a hard time remembering more exceptions than I can count on my fingers. And I’ll also suggest, again, that you don’t bring it up often.

From the time I started dating at about sixteen, and especially when I found my first serious girlfriend at seventeen, I displayed all the red flag warning signs of a dominant nature. Of course, that was Sahabet long before I knew what any of them meant.

I was territorial and controlling, probably to a degree that looking back now I’d consider unhealthy, though I wouldn’t say I crossed the line into abusiveness. Especially during sex, I was a very physical guy, very big into weight lifting and testosterone. I very quickly discovered I really dug holding a girl down or gripping her wrists during sex. Fortunately, most of my first few partners liked that, as well. A little bit of spanking or hair pulling, too, in the act, some biting happened in exploratory fashion.

Now, to some I’m probably starting to sound like I was some sort of little misogynist. And I really want to assure you that this was totally not the case. On the contrary, growing up and seeing my mother in an abusive relationship gave me a deep and abiding empathy for women. In fact, if anything, I can be accused of a overly protective sort of chauvinism in regards to women, based on that sympathy. I would love to say I’ve outgrown that idea, and intellectually, of course, I have. But the ideals you develop in childhood aren’t intellectual things. It’s more of an aesthetic, a way your emotions respond to the world.

That was compounded by the fact that I grew up in a very socially backwards area. When and where I was growing up, gender roles were still a societal expectation. Men worked, and if a wife had to get a job outside the household, it generally was a blow to a man’s pride as bread-winner for the family. A good wife was there to kiss her husband’s cheek when he came home from work and to bring him his beer or coffee. I remember when I was very young, my mother telling me how important it was to find a wife that cooked. That was where I came from.

Again, just to be clear, I’m not assigning any particular objective validity to any of this, not asserting or endorsing anything. But, the people I was brought up by said exactly that; mom, dad, aunts, uncles, neighbors, all firmly felt that was how it should be. And that all helped to shape my preferences and comfort zones. I’m not saying this is how it should be, or even that there is any ‘should-be’ in life at all. In fact, personally, I find professional women quite sexy. But, Sahabet Giriş nevertheless, deep in my mind, in places I can’t reach to change, it shaped how I felt comfortable acting, no matter how intellectually I can argue against it.

Of course, that’s not to say that my attitudes were prevalently conservative. I was that too cool for the party guy. I was the loner with the big assed chip on his shoulder that only he couldn’t see. I didn’t belong to any cliques because the notion of trying to placate anyone’s expectations, parents included, just made me bristle. I didn’t get into trouble at school, not because I was particularly obedient, but simply because their expectation of calm, quiet, reserved behavior was precisely what I tended to display, anyway. So I was left alone with my C+ average that required no effort on my part.

I tried football and wrestling but the imposed structure predictably made those short lived endeavors. So I got into boxing and kick-boxing, then first tae-won-do, then later kempo, aikido, and jujutsu at a local dojo.

I was that guy who was sneering with contempt when guys would be acting all cute and pathetic with big puppy-dog eyes to get girls. My idea of courtship was giving girls a reasonable chance to chase me, not the other way around. What, learn to dance to impress girls? I think not. Go find some dignity. Of course, I did later develop an interest in ballroom and Latin dancing. But that’s different. That whole truism about dominants being arrogant jerks? Yes. I had that one down.

Then right out of high school I joined the army. And, boy, that was a mistake. If the structure of football and wrestling turned me off, the army felt like being owned, and to this day, I’ve never been that miserable. A friend of mine that knew me then once observed that I didn’t so much rebel against authority, because I couldn’t be bothered with it. I just went off and preferred doing my own thing. But, when any authority was exerted on me, my reaction tended to be of a kneejerk, visceral, violent sort. And the sick thing was, I was kind of flattered by that assessment. That was also how I got my nickname, ‘Badger’. Not the sexiest nickname, but it, too, was flattering in a way.

But one good thing came of that. A friend explained Sahabet Güncel Giriş what in retrospect was quite obvious; that I did not have a submissive bone in my body. And he went on to tell me about domination and submission, and told me I was a classic dominant personality.

And how cool was that? Like the Blue Oyster Cult song! It was one of those moments of ecstatic vindication and self knowledge. From my first inkling that this topic was, in fact, a topic, it was my topic.

Have you ever played one of those video games where you wander around finding clues? And you know the things that are important because they stand out, maybe highlighted all shiny, so there’s no missing that this is something significant? That’s how I felt about this. There was no question in my mind that this was here for me, almost like everything I found out was a clue left for me to find.

Of course that was back in ninety one or ninety two. Today, the problem is finding good information. Back then the problem was finding any information at all. There was no internet, and most shops simply didn’t have books on that sort of thing. And the shops that did have material on it? Yeah, you didn’t want to be seen going into those.

And the friends I made in the army were not exactly the fonts of insight that one might hope for from mentors. Of course, if I needed it, my first experiences with sharing submissives with friends would have cemented my interest pretty damn thoroughly.

It wasn’t until I got out of the army, which, believe me, was just about as fast as I could manage, that I found a source for better information, though.

That source came in the form of a rather large community of Goreans. Tuchuks, to be exact. For those of you who don’t know, Gor is a pretty hard core male-dominated master-slave style BDSM protocol that is based on a collection of fantasy novels. And if that sounds weird.. well.. yeah, that’s because it’s kind of weird.

And yes, in lifestyle circles this group has fallen into some disfavor, most of which I feel is largely unfair. As for whether it’s deserved, I’d say, if it is, many, many other practices deserve the reputation at least as much. I split ways with them before that popular image of them emerged, though I will say it was for a personal philosophical reason rather than the ones that earned their reputation.

But that’s a topic for next time. It’s with these people that I got what I consider my education as a dominant, which I’ll describe in my next section. So, stay tuned!

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