Want to become a better Dom? Discover 100 lessons on Dominance, BDSM, leadership, consent, relationships, sex, self-mastery, and becoming someone worth following.

Today marks my 100th published article on FetLife. (I’ve actually written more on my website, but not all of them have been published here.)
For returning readers, thank you for continuing to read, question, challenge, and engage with my work. I deeply appreciate you.
For new readers, welcome, friends. I hope something here serves you well.
When I started writing about Dominance, I thought becoming a better Dom would mostly mean learning how to do things: how to lead a submissive, negotiate a scene, tie someone up, talk dirty, give commands, inflict pain, create pleasure, and wield control.
Those things matter.
But after 100 articles, I've come to believe that becoming a Dom has far more to do with the person wielding the power than the things they do with it.
You have to learn how to lead yourself before you can responsibly lead someone else. You have to develop confidence without arrogance, power without tyranny, emotional strength without emotional suppression, and enough self-awareness to recognize when you are the problem. You have to learn how to communicate, love, fuck, fail, repair, grow, and sometimes let go.
The whips and chains might be the sexy part.
But the person holding them is what matters.
So, in celebration of 100 articles, I’ve pulled together 100 of the most important lessons I’ve learned and taught about becoming a Dom.
Some are philosophical. Some are psychological. Some are about relationships. Some are about sex. Some are practical techniques you can put to use tonight. And a few may have very little to do with BDSM on the surface—until you realize that becoming better at Dominance often requires becoming better at life.
Each lesson can stand on its own, but I’ve sequenced them to create a journey: from learning to lead yourself, to understanding power and submission, to building relationships, to developing the skills necessary to actually do Dominance well.
Consider this a massive download of mindsets, principles, techniques, and practical skills—like when Neo learns kung fu in The Matrix.
Unfortunately, I couldn't find a giant cable to plug into the back of your skull.
So you'll have to do this the old-fashioned way.
Let’s begin.
In my experience, being a Dom is fundamentally about leadership. That leadership requires understanding the goals and desires of everyone involved and creating a clear vision for how to achieve them. Those goals may be as simple as reaching the heights of ecstasy together or as complex as guiding both of your lives toward deeper alignment and fulfillment.
A Dom is in service to the dynamic itself, in a way that honors both partners’ desires and needs—the mutual vision for the relationship. If the Dom is just serving their desires, they are using the submissive like a tyrant. If the Dom is only serving the submissive’s desires, they are what a mentor of mine likes to call a “coin operated top”, robbing the sub of the gift and joy of serving the Dom. It’s a relationship.
The Dom serves by giving their time, energy, and attention in pursuit of these shared goals. They create structure, provide safety, build trust, allow space for play and pleasure, and take responsibility for the well-being of the submissive.
And here’s the truth: the quality of your leadership—and how well you care for your submissive—will directly determine how deeply they want to serve you. Your service yields devotion.
Power is what we tend to believe lies at the core of Dominance, right?
After all, the entire Dom/sub dynamic is based on power exchange—the submissive transferring power over them to you.
But what is power, really?
At its core, power is the ability to act freely—when you want, how you want—without external forces dictating your choices. It’s the capacity to take a vision in your mind and turn it into reality without restriction or interference.
Most people, when asked what lies at the heart of power, immediately think of control. But control only comes after power is attained. How do you actually gain that power? And why would people continue to willingly give it to you?
People generally yield power to you in exchange for what they want and need.
Think about it: to some degree, all of us hand over control of our lives to others every single day. We make this exchange because we believe the other party—whether it’s an employer, a corporation, or a government—will benefit us in some way.
The most prominent benefit is that we don’t have to worry about the logistical challenges of meeting our basic needs. Hell, people will accept tyranny if it provides safety and food on the table.
What lies at the heart of power is not control, but responsibility.
If you take responsibility for providing people with what they want and need, they will hand over their resources—and sometimes even some degree of control. These exchanges occur because you possess more power (remember: the ability to take action and make things happen) than the other person.
This means that those who wish to wield power must be able to understand, read, and feel what others want—and then deliver it in exchange for control. The most important skill for gaining more power in your life is understanding what the people in front of you secretly crave, and taking responsibility for delivering it.
If you truly want to amass power in your life, you must start viewing every moment as an opportunity to assume responsibility. Every day presents chances to step up and lead in places where others are avoiding responsibility altogether.
In D/s relationships, the more you’re able to say, “I’m going to take responsibility for you and our dynamic,” the more power a submissive will want to relinquish.
In BDSM, there’s a dynamic known as Total Power Exchange, where the submissive gives 100% of their power to their Dom (often called her Master). That means the Dom has 100% control over them. But you know what else that means?
The Dom also has 100% responsibility for the submissive, in every area of their life.
Of course, learning to take on that level of responsibility requires building capacity first. That’s why we start with you taking responsibility for yourself. That is where personal power is born.
As you take responsibility for your own life, you develop the skills to solve problems, create order, and acquire the resources needed to make shit happen. Your capacity for responsibility expands.
Only then are you able to extend that outward—to take responsibility for others.
Think of power as concentric circles:
You don’t have to be completely put together before taking on a little responsibility in other areas. Just remain conscious of your capacity. Only take on what you can genuinely tend to—no one wants half-ass work.
Start with yourself and the people immediately around you. Build your capacity for leadership. Then expand outward.
When discovering the types of Doms you could be, you may have come across the term “Fake Dom” because one of the biggest concerns of submissives is submitting to the right Dom and avoiding falling prey to a "Fake Dom."
Typically, Doms who are labeled as Fake Doms fall into one of two categories:
The first category isn’t necessarily "fake." They simply need to level up in their role as a Dom. No big deal—that's why you’re reading this article, and kudos to you for doing so.
The second category is far more insidious because these individuals seek to use a submissive’s desire to submit to fulfill their own needs, with no regard for the submissive’s needs or whether consent has been given. In this case, they are not truly acting as a Dom.
It’s not uncommon for me to hear from women who’ve had bad experiences with Fake Doms—individuals who, in one way or another, were solely focused on fulfilling their own pleasure, entirely neglecting the submissive partner, who should be their responsibility.
Submissives will only submit to someone they respect.
Submissives will only respect you if you respect yourself.
You can only respect yourself if you take responsibility for your life.
Being a Dom starts long before entering the bedroom, long before learning technical skills, and long before courting a submissive.
If you can’t even take responsibility for your own life, how will you ever take responsibility for someone submitting to you? How can you lead someone if you can’t lead yourself?
Taking 100% responsibility for your life means that, no matter the circumstances, you actively examine and address your shortcomings, move your life forward, and solve the problems that arise. I emphasize no matter the circumstances.
You can’t be a victim. Being a victim means you have no power and no control—two essential prerequisites for being a Dom.
Look, I get it. Everyone is dealt a shitty hand in life. Some people have it harder than others. Some systems are built to put you at a disadvantage. Life is unfair and unpredictable. Sometimes, terrible, ungodly things happen to good people.
So here’s the only question that matters: What are you going to do about it?
You can either let your circumstances control you, or you can rise above them. Your road to becoming the person you want to be might be longer, harder, and more painful than someone else’s. That doesn’t matter. You still have to walk it.
Here’s what you’ll discover:
If you can recognize even the smallest places where you have power and take action within them, your sphere of influence will start to grow. You’ll begin to identify and seek out the levers that give you greater control over your life.
I put this lesson first because if you continue to see yourself as a victim, you’ll always try to change other people or your circumstances. But you can’t—not really. The problems will persist. There is only one person you have the power to change: yourself.
No matter what happens to you, you still have to stand back up, plant your feet beneath you, and walk the path.
At its core, power is the ability to act freely—to do what you want, when you want, and how you want, without external forces dictating your choices. It is the capacity to transform an idea in your mind into reality with minimal restriction or interference.
When I was younger, I was poor. Like standing in line at the food bank for Thanksgiving dinner poor. One thing you realize when you don't have money to solve the inevitable problems life throws at you is that you're going to have to learn how to solve those problems yourself. And if you don't know how to do that, you have to go learn.
When you start doing that, though, you gain a small spark of inspiration. You begin to recognize a pattern:
Problem arises → I learn the skills to solve it → The problem gets solved.
Your learning, when applied, has a direct and immediate benefit.
It creates a lot of self-confidence and a sense of power, even in a world where you don't have much power. Even the things we typically associate with power—resources, money, status, or what have you—can be acquired by learning the skills to obtain them. Those resources aren't the real power. The ability to learn how to acquire them is.
Learning is the greatest source of power I have ever found. At any given time, I'm probably reading a couple of books, taking a few courses, participating in some sort of coaching program, watching videos, or digging through websites on niche topics. While I'm consuming those resources, I'm repeatedly asking myself, How do I apply this? How does this solve a problem?
Of course, I recognize that I'm in a more privileged position to have access to these kinds of resources. That's why, in every endeavor I've pursued, I've tried to make education as accessible as possible, with as few barriers as I can and the highest possible return on investment for improving another person's life.
If you're a Dominant, having the ability to learn how to solve virtually any problem—or create a life that fulfills your desires or your submissive's—creates authentic power rooted in reality, not fantasy. It says, If you submit to me, real things will happen in your life.
Consider your own goals or challenges in kink for a moment.
I promise that whatever your answers are, there's a set of skills that can be learned to make them possible. Maybe it's learning sexual techniques, understanding your own psychology, developing better communication, or mastering one of the dozens of other skills I teach.
As a Dominant—a leader—you don’t follow rules simply because they are rules. You lead your own life, and others follow you. It’s more than an “I do whatever the f*ck I want” attitude. It’s learning to approve of yourself irrespective of others’ approval. It’s believing that you have value and worth and living your life in accordance with your own values.
When you finally quiet the noise of everyone else telling you what you should want in life, you create space for one of the perennial questions to emerge with clarity:
What do you want?
Simple to ask. Hard to answer.
Why? Because:
There have been several moments in my life when I’ve intentionally cut myself off from outside influences to silence the noise and start listening for the faint but persistent answer to that question. Some of these moments included quitting my job, cutting ties with disruptive family members, deleting social media, moving across the country, getting divorced, and selling all my belongings to travel in a van.
Starting in 2019, I created a document outlining everything I wanted in life across its various domains. As time went on and I learned more about my true desires, I returned to that document again and again to update it. Anytime I felt destabilized, lost, or hopeless, I’d open it and use it to reorient myself.
After a few iterations, I realized that defining what I wanted wasn’t enough—I also needed to define who I wanted to become in the process of pursuing those desires. That’s when I started clarifying my values.
Values are the fundamental beliefs that guide your behavior and choices. They are the principles you hold as important—your internal compass—and they shape your decisions and actions.
What’s fascinating about defining your values is that, once you’ve done it, you stop caring what most people think about you. Their measuring sticks no longer apply because you’re not playing the same game. You’re not chasing the same goals. You’ve opted out of the constant comparison trap.
Instead, you realize that the only person you’re ever truly competing with is the idealized version of yourself you’ve created in your own mind.
What I learned was that to bring more purpose into my life, I needed to choose actions that were meaningful to me and that created positive outcomes for others.
That “and” is everything.
A common trap is believing that motivations must be completely selfless to be pure—and that doing something for yourself is selfish or invalid. But doing things only for others can feel empty, just as doing things only for yourself can feel hollow.
You need both.
But to accept that, you must confront your Shadow. You must understand that no one has entirely pure motivations—and that’s okay. Most of our actions come from a mix of personal and collective concerns.
Take this article as an example. One of my deepest motivations is for you to benefit from these tools—because they’ve helped me, and I hope they help you. At the same time, this article improves my SEO, brings more readers to my work, and may lead to sales of my products and services. Some might label that greedy or “selling out,” but I know both motivations are valid. In fact, this article wouldn’t even exist or reach as many people without that additional motivation.
Almost everything I do now has multiple drivers—some personal, some collective—and that blend makes my life far more meaningful and fulfilling.
I invite you to reflect on your own life.
Ask yourself:
If you need more meaning, start with your interests, curiosities, and micro-motives—the things you do naturally when no one is watching. Follow that internal pull. Learn about it. Practice it. Share it. Everything I teach began as a personal curiosity I chose to pursue.
If you need to be more consequential, take responsibility where others avoid it. Use your internal passions to solve other people’s problems. Start with your closest relationships—your partners, your family, your friends. Then expand outward: work, community, culture, government. Step by step, grow your capacity to care for others without overreaching. Don’t take on what you can’t truly tend to. Half-hearted responsibility helps no one.
You can create a life full of meaning and impact. But it’s not waiting out there somewhere—it’s waiting in you, to be acted on.
A perfectly secure person would either have all their needs met or have no needs at all. No human being is that way.
The closest we can get is developing more strategies to fulfill our own needs or recruiting the help of others to fulfill them. But we’ll never fully get there. So it’s better to acknowledge our insecurities and express our needs openly because, ultimately, we can’t hide them.
A child thinks they are perfect. An adult recognizes their shortcomings, actively works to overcome them, and still asks others for help when needed.
However, we can get pretty close.
First, you need to develop a positive relationship with yourself and regard yourself as worthy of love and of having your needs fulfilled. This means acknowledging your needs and actively seeking ways to fulfill them, either on your own or by asking others for help. Your relationship with yourself will be the longest and most intimate relationship you’ll ever have, so learn to make it your most fruitful.
Next, you need to develop positive relationships with others and regard them as worthy of love and of having their needs fulfilled, too. This means communicating openly, sharing yourself with them, and honoring them when they share themselves with you. You give and receive love freely, trust others to support you in fulfilling your needs, and help them fulfill theirs as well.
A fallacy we often make is believing that we are entirely good, while others, particularly when they do something to us that causes harm, must be evil. What we fail to recognize is the entirety of both ourselves and of the other person, realizing that all of us contain “good” and “evil”.
The danger in pretending otherwise is twofold: either we become naive and weak, vulnerable to these forces being used on us, or we remain unaware when we use them on others—and we will. The Self wants to be fully expressed. And if we don’t consciously integrate the parts of ourselves we’d rather ignore, they will emerge anyway—often in unconscious, distorted, and harmful ways.
A powerful exercise I did years ago was reading The Gulag Archipelago and The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich—and imagining myself not as the victims in the camps, but as the guards. I tried to understand the motivations, the emotional justifications, the parts of myself I’d have to activate to commit such atrocities—and the parts I’d have to suppress to carry them out.
It was deeply uncomfortable. It forced me to ask whether, in subtle ways, I might be causing harm to others even now.
But it also gave me unexpected compassion—for myself and for those who had caused me harm.
I could see that both of us were only ever completely human.
BDSM offers a space to explore these shadow elements in a controlled environment. It gives us a safe container to confront and embody aspects of ourselves we fear or repress. With the right boundaries and consent, we can expose ourselves to just enough of our own "darkness" to begin integrating it—without fear of losing control or facing public ridicule. It’s a bit like how vaccines introduce a small dose of a virus to build immunity. Except here, we’re not trying to fight something off—we’re trying to welcome it in and make peace with it.
BDSM also allows us to temporarily suspend our everyday persona and try on other roles: Dominant, submissive, and many others. The beauty of role play is that when the scene ends, you take off the mask—and you’re still you. Only now, you’re you with greater self-acceptance, deeper empathy for others’ motivations, and a wider range of tools for navigating life’s social and emotional terrain.
That’s the aggressive shadow of the Dominant—the one we all fear. The person who makes others do what they don’t truly want to do.
Worse is when someone imposes their wants—desires, fantasies, or preferences that add pleasure or novelty but aren’t essential to safety or well-being—at the expense of another person’s needs.
And this isn’t always done through overt force. More often, it’s subtle: systems of control and extraction that make compliance feel like the only option.
Those are easier to spot.
What’s harder to see is the passive-aggressive shadow we all participate in. This shows up when we guilt or shame someone into doing something they don’t want to do.
Consider this: When someone makes a statement about the “rightness” or “wrongness” of another person’s behavior, it’s often a distorted expression of their own values, feelings, or unmet needs. “Shoulds” are frequently disguised forms of “I want…” or “I value…”—assuming they aren’t simply repeated conditioning.
Instead, own what you want. Speak about what matters to you. Then grant others the freedom to be exactly who they are. Release the idea that your loved ones—or anyone else—should share your values. If your values are fundamentally incompatible, move on.
At the same time, you can’t ignore your own needs. Assertiveness is about expressing how you want to be treated and ensuring that your needs are acknowledged. Because assertiveness brings differences into the open, people often fear that it will create conflict or distance.
More often, it does the opposite. It strengthens the relationship because both people can be honest and fulfilled without quietly building resentment.
If you don’t assert yourself, someone else may unknowingly neglect your needs, cross your boundaries, or override your limits. Not necessarily out of malice, but because they’re focused on meeting their own needs and are unaware of yours.
To me, the ideal submissive is not passive, nor are they without needs or limits. They know their needs and assert them. Because when they say yes to mine, I can trust that their yes is genuine. I can feel fully accepted. I don’t have to pretend to be someone else to receive love.
Not in the sense that you’re better than anyone else.
But you are rare and unique—your particular combination of personality, biology, and life experiences will never be replicated.
And yet, those differences are minuscule compared to everything that makes you the same as everyone else.
The single belief that helped me feel secure, no matter what, was this: All humans share the same essence.
We may look, act, or speak differently, but we all carry the same core needs, fears, joys, longings, and capacity for suffering. Realizing this helps you separate your worth from your performance. From your appearance. From the stories you tell yourself.
You have intrinsic value simply because you exist—just like everyone else.
That doesn’t mean what you do doesn’t matter. It does, within the context of social dynamics and the collective stories we create. But those stories are like costumes you wear. They’re not who you are.
Your skills, your accomplishments, your body—they can all change. You can learn new things, forget old ones, fail, succeed, and reinvent yourself entirely. But you remain.
And that brings us to another realization:
Life has no inherent meaning.
It simply is.
We, as humans, are the ones who assign meaning to things.
That’s incredibly freeing. It means there are no objectively “wrong” meanings. You get to choose the story you tell yourself—or choose none at all and simply experience life directly.
It also means that no one is objectively more “successful” than anyone else. There are only the games we choose to play and the stories we choose to believe.
When you sit with that awareness long enough, you realize something profound:
Everything is okay.
It has always been okay.
It will continue to be okay—even in the face of your greatest fear.
Even in death.
Discipline isn’t just about shaping the behavior of others—it’s primarily about controlling your own.
As a Dom, demonstrating discipline in your own life proves you have the competency to set meaningful goals, create actionable plans, and follow through with willpower and consistency. You don’t fold when things get difficult, and you hold yourself accountable. That kind of structure is exactly what many submissives crave for themselves.
If you fail to model discipline, your submissive will struggle to respect you and follow the code of conduct you establish.
Life will give you challenges—some universal, others unique to you. No one escapes this. When those challenges come, you have two choices: be debilitated by them or overcome them and become more confident in yourself.
I’m absolutely an advocate for mental health care and doing what you need for self-care. But I’m not an advocate for coddling yourself or avoiding life’s difficulties. In fact, I believe in measured and deliberate exposure to hard situations to build strength, resilience, and courage. In other words: do hard shit.
That said, this isn’t about punishing yourself or proving you're not weak. You’re not degrading yourself. Think of this as training like an athlete: Athletes push themselves hard in practice to grow their capacity—then they recover. You can’t go 100% all the time. So, as you expose yourself to discomfort, take the necessary downtime to recover and integrate. It’s the balance of stress and rest that builds true strength.
When you ask for control, you’re also pledging to take on the responsibility that comes with it. So start by taking ownership only of the responsibilities you can actually handle. Don’t overburden yourself. It’s far better to commit to one responsibility and execute it flawlessly than to promise the world and underdeliver.
If you say you’re going to do something—big or small—and you follow through, others will naturally give you more control over time. They’ll see that you’re someone with the competence to turn potential futures into reality.
But if you say you’re going to do something and then fail to deliver—whether through dishonesty or negligence—people won’t align with you. You’ll become all talk and no action. They won’t trust your word, and they certainly won’t hand you control over any part of themselves.
Which kind of person do you think someone would trust with the responsibility of their submission?
There’s more to this, though.
Doing what you say you’re going to do requires following through even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. This means asserting yourself in the face of obstacles—whether people or circumstances—to bring your vision to life.
As you take action in the world, you must also act in accordance with your values. Otherwise, you’re out of integrity and risk pursuing your vision at all costs—including at the expense of the very people you’re trying to lead.
When you act in accordance with your values, you become predictable. Others can observe your actions, understand the principles guiding them, and assess whether you’re the kind of person they want to submit to and follow.
When you act outside your values, you become unpredictable. They don’t know which version of you they’re going to get or what principles will guide your decisions. That uncertainty creates anxiety, undermines trust, and makes it difficult for them to feel safe giving you control.
Failing to own your mistakes will make them feel unsafe. If you don’t take responsibility for the harm you cause, how can they trust that you won’t abuse your power whenever it suits you?
When a Dom makes a mistake, it’s often a sign that leadership faltered somewhere—lack of oversight, unclear expectations, crossed boundaries, or neglected needs.
Even when a mistake is made by your submissive, it’s worth evaluating your own role before moving to discipline. While the submissive is responsible for following the rules, the structure of the dynamic itself may need adjustment—and that responsibility lies with you.
It’s okay to make mistakes as a Dom. You’re not perfect—and believing you should be is often what leads to mistakes in the first place. Instead, acknowledge your shortcomings, be honest with your submissive about them, and develop the skills needed to compensate for them.
What’s less obvious—and requires far more self-awareness—is when control is desired as a way to avoid the anxiety of an ultimately uncontrollable reality. Control becomes protection: a shield against the trauma of loss, abandonment, chaos, instability, or despair. Controlling the other person becomes a mechanism to avoid vulnerability.
There will always be things outside your control. No matter how hard you try, you will never be able to fully manage your external environment.
And we cannot know the future, no matter how much we “think and plan ahead.” Things will go wrong, and bad things will happen. When they do, you’ll need to decide what to do based on the information available at that moment—details you cannot know in advance. Generally, the things we plan for aren’t the things that go wrong, and the things that go wrong aren’t the things we planned for.
More importantly, relying on control externalizes the conditions under which you can be okay. It bases your well-being on factors outside of you—the one place where you have no actual control.
In other words, for all your efforts to gain control, you’re not gaining control at all. You’re only gaining stress and anxiety.
You believe that by acquiring more control, you’ll be able to guarantee the outcomes you want, prevent “bad things” from happening, and become the ultimate arbiter of your domain. But the truth is this: we can only control ourselves to a certain extent, and we have limited influence on those around us—even those who submit to us. There is a limit to how much control can realistically exist in a Dom/sub relationship.
In a Dom/sub dynamic, you can only take control of:
This means that even in a Dom/sub relationship, there will always be dozens of factors outside your control. And at the end of the day, you don’t truly own or control the other person unless they consent.
Too often, people think being a Dom is about being a stone-cold killer. No emotions. Rigid and unmoved by anything.
Except that’s not actually what your submissive wants. Turning off your emotions does not mean you have control over them. It means you’ve learned to suppress or avoid them.
What they want is for you to be able to feel your emotions fully without losing your shit when you do. You’re able to let any and all emotions flow through you, feel them fully to your core, and not become triggered, grasp onto them, or overreact.
When they see that you trust yourself enough to feel your own emotions, they’ll trust you enough to share theirs with you to the fullest extent possible. They know you can handle their deepest expressions of joy, bliss, and pleasure just as much as their anger, sadness, and despair. If you want her positive emotions, you have to be able to handle the negative ones as well. You don’t get to pick and choose.
First, you need to learn how to be present with your emotions—specifically, the sensations they create in your body—without becoming attached to the stories assigned to them. This requires cultivating awareness (what is happening) and presence (what is happening right now), practices that must be exercised again and again. Every emotion must be felt fully, especially the ones you’d rather not feel. Meditation, somatic therapy, talk therapy, men’s groups, and many other modalities can help you practice this.
When you combine this practice with strong self-esteem, you begin to see that these emotions don’t change who you are at your core. The pain doesn’t actually destroy you. You’re okay, even when everything in the world around you is in chaos.
You also realize that if you’re a human being with emotions, just like everyone else, then everyone else experiences these emotions too—including the painful ones. This is where empathy is born. You begin to attune to the emotional states of others, not because you’re afraid of their emotions or anxiously trying to avoid upsetting them, but because you know and accept that it’s okay for them to feel what they feel. You don’t need to change, manage, or control their emotions.
You become more vulnerable in the sense that you increase your sensitivity to the emotions of others—the same emotions that might have previously triggered you before you learned to regulate your own.
Instead, you can now approach your submissive with an open heart—one that allows them to fully express their emotions without you trying to change, manage, or control what they feel. They know that regardless of whether they’re happy, angry, sad, or experiencing whatever emotion is moving through them in that moment, you’re not going to shut down or blow up.
You’ll accept them, remain present, and still lead. You’ll take care of what needs to be done with their best interests in mind.
They feel seen, known, and safe—all prerequisites for them to submit.
Who holds the power in a Dom/sub relationship?
At first glance, it may look like the Dominant holds all the power: deciding what the submissive does, when, how, and for whose pleasure. But the truth is more complex.
The submissive has voluntarily given up control and retains the right to revoke it at any moment—by using a safeword or simply withdrawing consent. The Dom’s authority exists only because the sub allows it. Consent can be revoked—in the present, not retroactively—but it isn’t revocable without consequences. (The relationship may dissolve, trust may be broken, etc.) That ability to stop at any time is what makes BDSM different from abuse.
So, does that mean the submissive holds all the power? Many in the BDSM community say yes—but I believe that view undervalues the Dominant’s role. A Dom takes on responsibility not just for their own needs, but for the shared vision of the relationship. And just as a sub can withdraw consent, a Dom can also choose to end the relationship and withdraw their leadership.
That point matters. Too many Doms underestimate the value of their Dominance—the structure, guidance, and experiences they create. Yet these are often exactly what submissives crave most deeply.
The foundation of power in D/s is mutual consent — both partners must continuously choose the dynamic. But within the relationship, power is deliberately asymmetrical: the Dom leads, the sub follows. That is the beginning of the exchange.
Let’s address why on earth someone would willingly give control of themselves over to a Dom—sometimes even as far as becoming a slave to them.
Simple: the Dom cares.
Let’s take a step back for a moment. Think about when you were a child. Unless your childhood was entirely traumatic, you were often willing to let your parents have a say over your life because they had your best interests at heart. You trusted that they cared about you.
Submission is about trust. You want to find someone who will put your best interests first—someone who will care for you when you are at your most vulnerable, when you have an utter lack of control. It’s the feeling of being so loved and so desired that someone is willing to protect you and keep you safe no matter what.
To some degree, all of us hand over control of our lives to various people every day. We make the exchange because we believe the other party—whether an employer, a corporation, or a government—will benefit us in some way. Most commonly, we do it so we don’t have to worry about the logistical challenges involved in meeting our basic needs.
So is it really so far-fetched that you’d willingly give over control in order to have your mental and emotional needs met, too—especially if you know that person genuinely cares about you?
They get to feel:
The dream for a sub is that as long as they do what the Dom says, everything will be great. They won’t have to make decisions. They won’t have to accept responsibility for what happens. They won’t have to worry about anything, period. It’s liberation and freedom from worry, anxiety, uncertainty, and the stressful realities of life—while still being cared for and taken care of.
Submission allows the sub to enter a state of tranquility and sink fully into the pleasure of a fantasy realm—a special bubble without stress or pressure—recharging their mental, emotional, and spiritual batteries to face another week of life.
They only have one responsibility: pleasing their Dom. The Dom will take care of the rest.
For a submissive, it’s as close to utopia, to heaven on earth, to pure bliss as you’re ever going to get.
A Top is someone with the skills to perform specific acts on another person, not necessarily within a power exchange. A good Top has a solid understanding of BDSM principles, techniques, and safety practices. They continually seek to educate themselves to ensure safe and enjoyable experiences for both partners.
A Service Top is also skilled in performing specific acts, but takes direction from the bottom—the person receiving the act. The Service Top performs actions that the bottom wants and has requested, being of service to the bottom’s desires.
A Dominant, on the other hand, assumes the role of authority, control, and power over the submissive. They set not only the direction and intention for the acts being performed but also the tone for the entire relationship. Of course, it’s necessary for a Dominant to be a skilled Top if they plan to engage in BDSM. In some cases, a Dominant may have acts performed on them while maintaining control—in which case, they retain their Dominant status but are acting as a bottom (the person having acts done to them).
Some people enjoy engaging in kinky play but don’t want a power exchange—or the level of responsibility that comes with it—to be part of that play. However, they still want to be the one performing the action rather than the one having it done to them. This is quite common in kinks such as rope bondage, where participants often derive joy and satisfaction from the kink itself, even without a power exchange occurring.
A subset of these individuals may also find that they enjoy facilitating the bottom’s desires far more than pursuing their own agenda. These are often service-oriented people who, in return for their service, feel skillful, useful, needed, appreciated, and praised for a job well done.
In some circles, a Top is not considered part of the “Dominant” archetype. As we’ve discussed, a Top may perform kinky actions similar to those of a Dominant during a scene, but they are not necessarily fulfilling the broader role of a Dominant—which involves ongoing power exchange and control beyond the act itself.
If performing kinks without ultimate control resonates with you, don’t worry—there’s no shame in being a good Top. In fact, I’ve met some incredible Tops who are far more skilled in particular kinks than I am. And if becoming a Dom is something you aspire to, being a Top is an excellent place to start: it allows you to hone your skills, learn to manage energy and intention, and build the foundation for control, power, and leadership within a D/s dynamic.
One of the greatest strengths of a Dom/sub relationship is the constant awareness and communication of each person’s needs, desires, boundaries, and limits.
In fact, the very process of establishing a D/s dynamic forces you to answer the perennial relationship question: What do you want? And then—crucially—you have to tell your partner, often in greater detail than in any other kind of relationship.
Needs are core emotional, physical, or psychological requirements that must be met for a person to feel safe, fulfilled, and secure within a relationship. These are not arbitrary preferences; they are non-negotiable requirements for regulating the nervous system. When needs go unmet, the relationship cannot remain healthy.
Desires, by contrast, are wants, fantasies, or preferences that add excitement, pleasure, and novelty to a relationship. They enrich the connection, making it more playful, passionate, and alive—but they are optional compared to needs.
Boundaries protect your physical, emotional, and psychological well-being. They signal what you will do to protect yourself when a line is crossed. Boundaries prevent others from imposing their will on you or pushing you outside your values. It is your responsibility to set, maintain, and consistently uphold your boundaries.
Limits, by contrast, define the edges of what you are willing to do—and how far you will go—to meet another person’s needs. They communicate what you do and do not consent to. Limits protect your time, energy, and resources from depletion, allowing you to give and receive enthusiastically rather than overextending and burning out. It’s your responsibility to set your limits, and the other person’s responsibility to listen to and respect them.
Many relationship conflicts stem from one of these four areas being neglected. Too often, people stay silent, expecting their partner to “just know” what they need or want.
Even worse, some sacrifice their own boundaries and limits to meet their partner’s needs—without receiving reciprocity.
This is where the toxic pattern of a covert contract emerges: “I’ll do X for you, and in return you’ll do Y for me…but I won’t tell you what Y is, or that I even expect it.”
Covert contracts are a recipe for resentment. They lead to bitterness, disconnection, and—eventually—contempt. As the saying goes: hurt people hurt people.
By contrast, healthy Dom/sub dynamics eliminate covert contracts. They require overt, explicit communication about needs, desires, boundaries, and limits. A D/s relationship cannot exist without negotiation and mutual agreement. Many couples even put these agreements into a semi-formal Dom/sub contract.
At first glance, such formality might seem excessive. But the truth is: every relationship has an agreement. The question is: do you know what you’re agreeing to?
Dom/sub relationships make that agreement explicit. No confusion. No guesswork. Just clarity. And with clarity comes the best chance of having your needs truly met.
Much of the toxicity in relationships comes from expectations that were never explicitly agreed to because one partner never directly spoke up.
You know the expectations I’m talking about—the ones where you wish your partner were different from who they actually are.
Rather than relying on unspoken expectations, make direct, clear agreements about how you want to function together.
It does not matter who occupies which role. What matters is that the arrangement works for the two of you.
During negotiations, the Dominant pledges responsibility for specific areas, and the submissive consents to rules, tasks, or areas of surrender. Each person knows exactly what they are responsible for—no confusion.
The difference in a D/s dynamic is that some areas considered taboo in mainstream society—like decisions about one’s body, sexual availability, or appearance—can also be negotiated. Even in these intimate domains, both partners know and consent to their roles and expectations.
For both you and your partner to feel safe divulging your inner worlds, you first need to create a container based on openness and non-judgment.
Openness means that both of you are willing to hear and consider the other person’s desires. If you both share a desire, then you can move forward with it. If only one person has the desire, but it isn’t a hard no for the other, then you can remain open to exploring whether—and how—that desire might be fulfilled.
Non-judgment means that if only one person has the desire and the other does not, for whatever reason, neither person is shamed or judged for what they want. You may even explore whether there are ways for that desire to be fulfilled outside the relationship.
Most importantly, whatever desires are shared, you agree to receive them without condemnation. You’re not going to look down on your partner, call them disgusting, or get up and walk out simply because they revealed something vulnerable about themselves.
Openness doesn’t require you to say yes. Non-judgment doesn’t require you to participate. Both simply create enough safety for each person to tell the truth about what they want.
When it comes to boundaries, many people attempt to set them by trying to control someone else’s behavior—saying things like, “You’re not allowed to do X, Y, or Z.” These boundaries often fail because they rely on another person changing, which is always outside your control.
They can also breed resentment. When someone feels constrained or told who they can or cannot be, their sense of autonomy may be threatened. Unless they genuinely want the same change for their own reasons, resentment tends to accumulate over time.
Instead of attempting to dictate another person’s behavior, ask yourself: How can I set a boundary that relies on my behavior instead of theirs?
You may have noticed that I often frame boundaries as:
If (their action) happens, then I will do (my action), to protect (my need).
Not every boundary fits this structure, but when it does, I find it deeply empowering. I may be biased—being a Dom—but the more responsibility I can take without trying to control someone else, the better I feel.
Limits and boundaries aren’t just important—they’re what make BDSM possible in the first place.
In fantasy, anything can happen. There are no rules, no risks, no consequences. But in reality—where real bodies, real emotions, and real relationships exist—limits and boundaries create the container that makes the fantasy safe, sustainable, and meaningful. They are not barriers to desire; they are the structure that allows desire to be explored fully, freely, and without harm.
Many submissives want the feeling of being ravished—experiencing pleasure from being taken by someone acting on their uncontrollable desires, sometimes so intensely that it feels like force.
In short, your submissive wants you to know what you want and to take it (consensually) without them having to think about it. You have to learn how to take for your own pleasure.
Now, you may be wondering, “Why would I ask for my desires if I’m supposed to just take what I want?”
This is the crux of BDSM: consent.
Even if your submissive is telling you they want to be ravished, you may still feel hesitant—too much in your head, too timid, overthinking what you should be doing. That mental block keeps you from fully stepping into the Dominant headspace.
But something powerful happens when you ask for what you want and hear an enthusiastic yes.
See, consent isn’t just about giving the other person a chance to say yes or no. It’s not just for them—it’s for you. It gives you the freedom to act on your desires with abandon. There’s no need for hesitation or second-guessing because your partner has explicitly stated that you are allowed to act on those desires within the boundaries you’ve agreed upon.
Think of everything you and your submissive could possibly do together as a sandbox. When you discuss their boundaries and limits, you build the walls of that sandbox. Within those boundaries, you have freedom to play. You’re allowed to do anything inside the sandbox—just don’t cross its walls without further consent.
Now that you know their boundaries, they want you to own your desires fully. They crave you not holding back or hesitating. They want you to take what’s yours, completely.
Asking is what allows you to take.
Where many beginner Doms struggle is with the seeming paradox of leading while also feeling like they’re constantly asking permission. The solution? Ask before the interaction starts. This is the purpose of negotiation.
Let’s take the example of biting.
I know I’m a biter. I know I’m going to want to do it during sex without stopping to ask if it’s okay. When the urge comes, I want to latch on. So, before having sex with a new partner, I ask:
Now that I know the walls of the sandbox—our agreed-upon boundaries—I can bite to my heart’s content within those limits.
The flip side of speaking up for your needs, desires, boundaries, and limits is that your partner now has the opportunity to exercise agency by saying yes or no.
That’s the vulnerable step most people try to avoid.
It sounds like this: “I have this need or desire. I would like you to fulfill it. Would you be willing?”
When you ask—rather than coerce, manipulate, or posture—you give the other person the ability to say no. And the only “yes” that is meaningful, authentic, and truly nourishing is a yes that could have been a no.
It is in your best interest to grant others that freedom. As an act of love, we offer invitations to our partners—opportunities for them to contribute to our well-being. When someone freely chooses to meet your needs, out of genuine desire to contribute, those needs are fulfilled more fully, more effectively, and with far greater consistency.
However, expressing a need does not obligate anyone else to meet it. Other people are autonomous beings with the absolute right to decline. This is often where we reach for control or manipulation—when we fear our needs won’t be met.
What you receive out of genuine desire hits differently—it lands deeper, feels richer, and creates far more intimacy. It feels like being accepted without performance—like you didn’t have to change who you are to be loved. You ask for what you want—no matter how likely you think a “no” might be—and when the answer is “yes,” you feel accepted for being yourself.
Why on earth would you want to gab to death about any of this?
First, we're not mind readers. We can guess or assume what someone might want, but at best we're setting ourselves up for disappointment, and at worst we're putting ourselves in serious physical or psychological danger.
By having a discussion, there is clarity about what each person wants and doesn't want. You're essentially giving the other person an operating manual that says, "Here's how to not only turn me on but drive me wild, while also avoiding all the things that would turn me off or harm me." Most people would love to read that manual—even if only for the egotistical reason of becoming the best damn lover you've ever had.
Second, BDSM is inherently risky. No activity is entirely free from the potential for harm. Some risks are minor, while others could be life-altering. Without having a conversation about those risks and how you'll both mitigate them, you're essentially handing someone a pair of scissors and telling them to run.
Most importantly, negotiation allows each person to consent to the situation with as much relevant information as possible so they can make an informed decision.
There's another benefit to that consent—one that often isn't fully appreciated until you're actually in the middle of a scene: the removal of worry, anxiety, and uncertainty. This benefits both the Dominant and the submissive.
For the submissive, negotiation creates the trust needed for deeper surrender because they know their concerns about limits and safety have already been addressed. That's when the mind can quiet down and fully engage with the sensations of the moment.
For the Dominant, negotiation clearly defines the edges of the sandbox they get to play in—what's welcome, what's off-limits, and where they have complete freedom to explore. In the moment, as long as a desire falls within those agreed-upon boundaries, they can act on it fully and without hesitation. That's when their actions become confident, direct, and ravishing.
Without negotiation, both people end up second-guessing themselves. They stay in their heads instead of the moment, and the experience falls flat.
I chuckle a little every time someone balks at communicating about sex. Let’s set aside the fact that we’re not mind readers and that making assumptions can be risky.
What communication does is create safety.
For the vast majority of people, reaching orgasm requires a state of physical, emotional, and psychological safety. Without it, the body struggles to fully let go. When they feel unsafe, stressed, or rushed, their sympathetic nervous system releases cortisol and adrenaline, making arousal and orgasm nearly impossible.
If you start doing things that are intense—things that look and feel violent—without talking about them beforehand, what do you think they’re going to feel?
Unsafe.
Communication allows you to discuss things like risks, desires and limits, pain tolerances, health status, whether marks or bruises are acceptable, their current mental and emotional state, and the emotional intention behind the encounter.
But communication does more than create safety.
It also helps you uncover why these experiences are so arousing and exciting—specifically for them.
With that information, you can tailor how you apply your techniques to evoke the particular feelings they desire. Hearing their fantasies can also give you more personalized and impactful material for dirty talk, stimulating the mind as much as the body—and often leading to greater arousal.
For some people, knowing what's coming not only relieves the anxiety of uncertainty but also kick-starts the foreplay by building anticipation. You get to savor the excitement of something you've been fantasizing about finally becoming reality.
But maybe you love not knowing what's going to happen. Maybe that's part of the thrill. If so, this is a good time to discuss inclusive versus exclusive negotiation.
Inclusive negotiation starts with a blank slate and discusses what activities you'd be open to including. Anything not discussed is off-limits. It says, "Here's what we're doing and how we're doing it. That's it."
Exclusive negotiation focuses on defining the boundaries—what's off-limits before play begins. Everything that isn't excluded is fair game. It says, "Here's the sandbox we can play in. Anything inside the sandbox is fair game. Just don't step outside of it."
Of course, this isn't to say that inclusive negotiation shouldn't also discuss boundaries and limits, or that exclusive negotiation shouldn't include activities you explicitly do want. Both approaches still require clear communication.
If you're playing with someone inexperienced, engaging in a higher-risk activity, working with someone who is anxious or uncertain, or you know exactly what you want to do, you might lean toward a more inclusive negotiation.
If you value spontaneity but still want to stay within clearly defined boundaries, then exclusive negotiation may be the better fit. It gives you room for surprise while ensuring everyone knows where the limits are.
The final consideration is when the negotiation takes place. You don't have to negotiate immediately before the activity. You could have the conversation the day before, the week before, or even a month before. If you're set on preserving spontaneity, simply leave enough time between the negotiation and the scene that the details aren't fresh in your mind.
That said, the longer the gap between the negotiation and the scene, the more important it becomes to do a brief check-in beforehand to make sure everyone is still interested and nothing has changed. If you don't want a pre-scene check-in because you want the experience to remain completely spontaneous, then make that expectation part of the negotiation itself.
Most people have never taken the time to really express what turns them on or what they want from sex. Instead, they leave it up to chance. In my experience, consistently great sex comes from communication. In fact, communication is the keystone of any healthy relationship, whether it’s a marriage, a Dom/sub dynamic, or a polyamorous relationship.
However, many people struggle to talk about sex for a variety of reasons—from their own shame and guilt to not feeling heard to simply not having the words to describe what they desire. Depending on how strong the container of openness and non-judgment is between you and your partner, you may know exactly what you desire but still find it difficult to express those desires in person.
Sometimes, it’s easier to communicate your desires and boundaries by writing them down. Writing allows you to create some distance from the act and observe it from an outside perspective, making it easier to say, “Yes! I enjoy this!” without becoming overwhelmed by shame or guilt.
Writing also gives you time to find the right words. You don’t have to formulate your thoughts in the heat of the moment or worry about immediately managing another person’s reaction. You can reflect on what you actually want, articulate it clearly, and then use what you’ve written as a starting point for deeper communication with your partner.
Many of us carry an idealized picture of a perfect partner—someone who shares all our values, meets all our needs, and checks every box. But if we cling too tightly to that fantasy, we may never step into a real relationship.
This doesn’t mean lowering your standards or settling. Instead, it means prioritizing what truly matters to you and being willing to compromise—but only within your personal boundaries and limits.
If you remain too rigid, you’ll end up searching for unicorns that don’t exist; no one can live up to the perfect image in your head. If you’re too loose with your ideals, you risk resentment because you’ve compromised too much of yourself.
The real foundation of a relationship is negotiation—two people working together to build something that meets as many needs as possible without overstepping boundaries. Compromise here doesn’t happen because you’re forced to, but because you believe that making certain sacrifices will create a relationship more fulfilling than either of you could create alone. You give up a little to gain a lot.
Your goal is not to win, get your way, or one up your partner. Your goal is understanding, and making the relationship better for both of you.
In a relationship there are always 3 ever-evolving parts: you, your partner, and the relationship. It’s almost as if the “relationship” is another being present that must be tended to.
When you have a difficult conversation, you’re tending to that being’s health. If the difficult conversation is successful, your relationship will be more healthy and serve both of you. So while your views about how to tend to the relationship’s health may be different, your goal is ultimately the same. Unity, not division.
A relationship check in is a monthly (or otherwise regular) meeting you and your partner set aside—ideally for a couple of hours—where both people speak up for their feelings and needs. Each person gets to be seen and heard, making sure their concerns are addressed.
I credit regular check-ins as one of the reasons I had such a great marriage, such a respectful divorce, and such a close friendship afterward with my ex-wife. At the time, I only had a rough sense of how to do them. These days, I use a structure called RADAR, developed by Multiamory.
Here’s the structure:
R – Review: Go over what’s happened in the past month—important events, emotional moments, or even things left unsaid. Think of it as a timeline review.
A – Agree on the Agenda: Together, decide what topics you want to cover. This could include:
For those in a D/s dynamic, this is a great time to review contracts, renegotiate boundaries, or update agreements if needed.
D – Discuss: Dive into each topic. This is the heart of the container—have the conversations that need to be had.
A – Action Points: Talk is great, but if nothing changes afterward, frustration builds. Agree on specific action points so that both of you are actively investing in moving forward and addressing issues.
R – Reconnect: End on a warm note. Whether it's cuddling, sharing appreciations, or doing something fun, make sure you close the container with connection—not just conclusion.
Relationship check-ins ensure that difficult conversations don’t get buried. You both know there’s a time set aside—no matter how busy life gets. That alone can bring relief and trust. It also gives both of you the chance to prepare emotionally and mentally, which is especially important depending on how you process information.
When you want something in life, it’s often not the thing itself you want, but rather the emotion you believe it will elicit in you. The same is often true of needs. When a need goes unfulfilled, there is usually an emotional state you’re longing to experience—whether that’s love, security, excitement, belonging, or something else.
Emotions also give meaning to your decisions. While making decisions logically can be helpful in some situations, leaving emotions out of interpersonal relationships doesn’t create connection. Some decisions—particularly those in which the possible outcomes carry similar weight—also become increasingly difficult to make without considering how you feel. And chances are, emotions are what triggered the conversation in the first place.
So, it makes sense to encourage emotional expression during the conversation. When you express your emotions to your partner, they better understand why something is important to you, and they feel like they “know” you more deeply. Likewise, encouraging your partner to share their emotions allows them to feel seen, heard, felt, and known. It also signals that you care about their experience and perspective, not just about solving the problem.
What’s important is allowing both yourself and your partner to feel whatever emotions need to be felt and express them without judgment. Let your partner express whatever is true for them in the moment without telling them they shouldn’t feel that way or trying to change, extinguish, or “solve” the emotion.
If you attempt to change their emotions simply because they make you uncomfortable, you’re making your emotional state dependent on theirs. Your sense of stability shouldn’t require them to feel differently. Their emotions don’t dictate your internal state.
When you can remain present and grounded while your partner fully expresses what they feel, you create space for both emotional honesty and genuine connection.
Learn to listen fully and facilitate dialogue so the other person feels seen, heard, and understood. The Imago Dialogue process is an excellent tool for understanding how you can react and actively listen to what they are saying. The process, used in therapeutic contexts, can seem robotic if followed to the letter, but as you integrate these skills into your everyday language, it will sound more natural. What's most helpful is learning the skills and phrases associated with mirroring, being curious, checking for accuracy, summarizing, validating, and empathizing.
Some key phrases to learn:
This process benefits you because it helps you dig deeper than her surface-level words, giving you more insight. What they say initially is often not the full picture, and you shouldn't take their words at face value.
Once you’ve understood their perspective and needs, it’s time to express yours. When you do, I recommend using nonviolent communication.
The benefits are:
Basics of Nonviolent Communication:
The true power of nonviolent communication lies in requesting your needs be fulfilled. When you make the request for your needs to be met, there must be no expectation of them to say yes and you must be ok no matter the outcome.
Even if you’re a Dom who may be in control of their life doesn’t mean you control their free will. They retain agency, and any attempt to manipulate them to meet your needs reflects insecurity. If your partner says no, take responsibility for your own needs and find another way to meet them. They owe you nothing.
Beneath every criticism is a need that is going unmet or unrecognized. When that happens, your mind and body alert you through an uncomfortable feeling. Naturally, you look for an explanation for that discomfort. You scan your environment and—what do you find? Your partner’s mistakes or perceived transgressions, which may or may not be the true source of your annoyance or disappointment.
We often criticize as a form of self-protection. It’s much easier to see our partner as the cause of the problem than to drop our shield and say, “My needs are not being met. Help me.”
Criticism lets us avoid vulnerability and instead hold a position of superiority, righteousness, or perfection. It feels like the problem is “out there,” when the emotional charge actually originates within you.
The issue with this mindset is twofold:
So how do you get your needs met? In the only way that actually works: by asking.
Occasionally, I get asked what keeps the Dominant accountable. The truth is, if the Dom fails to uphold their end of the bargain, the entire structure of the dynamic begins to collapse. The consequence is simple: the dynamic stops working, and the submissive loses respect for the Dominant.
The submissive’s voice within the dynamic is of utmost importance. The clearest microcosm of this principle is the safeword. The Dominant may have planned the scene and initiated the action, but with a single word, the submissive can stop everything.
Their voice is also the pulse of the entire dynamic. Once a mutual vision and goals have been established and the Dom provides direction, it becomes the submissive’s responsibility to provide feedback—on how those intentions are being received, whether expectations are realistic, and whether the dynamic is truly serving both partners.
I always encourage my submissives to develop a deep relationship with their feelings because those feelings act like the check-engine light on a car. The light tells you something is wrong, but not necessarily what. In the same way, feelings signal that something within the dynamic needs attention. They’re a cue for the Dominant to look under the hood, identify the problem, and make adjustments so everything can run smoothly again.
Another reason the submissive’s voice matters is that they are the only person who can fully advocate for their needs. The Dom sets the direction of the dynamic, so the Dom’s needs are often already built into that direction. If the submissive never speaks up, their needs may go unfulfilled. While the Dom should actively check in and create opportunities for honest communication, it is ultimately the submissive’s responsibility to express their needs and make sure they are heard.
That’s why the submissive should consistently provide feedback. Let the Dominant know when they’re making mistakes, but also express gratitude and appreciation when they’re doing well. Feedback isn’t a threat to the Dominant’s leadership—it’s one of the tools that allows them to lead well.
Why do submissives “top from the bottom”? If you understand the underlying causes of the behavior, you can address those causes instead of assuming you’re dealing with a “bad” submissive.
First: why does anyone do anything?
To get their needs met.
It sounds simple, but this mindset is crucial. If you hold onto this lens, you’ll focus on identifying which needs are trying to be fulfilled instead of reacting to the surface behavior. As the Dom, you take responsibility for leading the dynamic—and that includes creating conditions where needs can be safely expressed and met. If the submissive believes you cannot fulfill their needs, they will not trust you.
In my experience, topping from the bottom usually happens for one of two reasons:
Because we’re wired to protect our ego first, most Dominants immediately assume it’s the first: disrespect.
From the Dominant’s perspective, being topped from the bottom feels frustrating and demoralizing. Planning and executing BDSM scenes—or managing an ongoing dynamic—is mentally and physically taxing. When a submissive interrupts, critiques, or attempts to redirect things, it can feel like they don’t appreciate the effort involved. It can land as a criticism of competence or even an attack on character. It may seem like you’ve upheld your role as the Dominant, but they’ve failed to uphold theirs.
Personally, it took time and reflection for me to recognize that when a submissive pushed back, it usually wasn’t about respect. The vast majority of the time, it was about trust.
This can feel confusing. After all, your submissive agreed to the dynamic. Intellectually, they trust you on some level.
But trust is complex.
We can verbally say we trust someone, yet it’s our nervous system that truly determines whether surrender feels safe. If they do not trust you at an embodied, nervous system level, they will resist surrendering to you. In many cases, they’ll resist surrendering to themselves.
That’s the part that confuses submissives. They say they want this dynamic—but their body won’t let them fully lean in.
Topping from the bottom is often a defense mechanism. It’s a way to regain control in situations where the nervous system perceives risk. It’s an attempt to stay safe. It’s an attempt to ensure needs are met—especially the fundamental need for safety.
So why might trust be lacking?
So now you have a situation where the submissive has a need—and they don’t fully trust that you can meet it. Sometimes that lack of trust is about you. Sometimes it’s about them. Often, it’s about both of you.
What happens next?
They use whatever communication tools they learned were safe or acceptable in the past.
If they were taught healthy communication, they will assert themselves, clearly express their needs, and make requests.
If they were taught unhealthy communication, they will resort to passive-aggressive behavior, manipulation, or indirect control.
The hard truth is that most of us were never taught that it was safe to ask directly for our needs. As children, when we spoke up, we were often told to be quiet, dismissed, or ignored. In more extreme cases, we were shamed or rejected simply for having needs at all.
So we adapt.
We learn to ask covertly. We learn to manipulate subtly. We learn to control indirectly—because direct expression didn’t feel safe.
The submissive is not actively trying to disrespect you.
They are trying to protect themselves. They are trying to get their needs met. They are trying to communicate—but may not yet know how to do so effectively.
So your focus should be on:
Not on the surface-level disobedience.
When someone submits to you, they are putting themselves in an incredibly vulnerable position. Whether you have control over their body or parts of their life, you could cause significant mental, emotional, or physical harm if you wanted to. That possibility can be terrifying for a submissive.
To put yourself in their shoes for a moment, consider how vulnerable and anxious you might feel when an entity like the government holds significant power over your life and could use that power against you.
When someone says they don’t trust you yet, what they need is for you to demonstrate the four ingredients of trustworthiness. They need evidence that they can feel safe placing their trust in you.
Rachel Botsman describes four key ingredients we use to decide whether someone is worthy of our trust, all of which are incredibly applicable to D/s dynamics.
The four ingredients of trustworthiness are:
Everyone has a different threshold for how much trust-building behavior they need to see before they feel comfortable trusting someone. If a person has had their trust abused in the past, they may be a “slow burn,” as people often describe themselves—someone who requires repeated demonstrations of trustworthiness before they can fully let go.
It’s easy to believe that you can’t take a risk on someone without first trusting them. However, it’s the very act of taking a risk—of making yourself vulnerable to potential harm—that allows trust to develop.
When we take a risk by trusting someone and they don’t abuse or take advantage of that vulnerability, trust compounds. We become more willing to take larger and more meaningful risks with that person in the future.
The key is the size of the risk.
If you struggle with trusting partners, start small. Take a micro-risk, see how they respond, and then decide whether to give them a little more. You’re gradually increasing your comfort with trust by exposing yourself to manageable risks and adjusting based on how your partner handles them.
An example of this process is sharing your turn-ons during pillow talk. After sex can be a wonderful time to open up about your desires because you may both feel relaxed, connected, and more receptive to each other. This can make conversations about sexual desires feel easier and more playful.
As you’re lying there cuddling, you could simply ask, “What are some things you’ve always wanted to try? If I tell you one, will you tell me one?” I always advocate for being vulnerable first because it makes it easier for your partner to follow your lead. Start with something low-stakes, such as, “I’ve always wanted to try using a blindfold.”
When your partner shares one of their desires, the critical moment is how you respond. Do not judge them, call it weird or gross, or react in a way that shames them for sharing. Instead, receive the disclosure with openness. If it’s not something you’re into, you could say, “That’s cool that you’re into that. I don’t think I’d want to try it, but I’m glad you know what you like. Maybe there’s something else we could explore together.” That kind of response maintains the container of safety and trust.
After going back and forth on a few milder desires or fantasies, you can gradually share more intimate or edgy ones. It should become easier because you’ve already practiced taking smaller risks and experienced your partner responding with openness and encouragement.
When building trust in any domain of a D/s dynamic, you can increase the size of the risks you’re willing to take as you become more confident in your ability to protect your own safety—and as your partner repeatedly demonstrates that they are worthy of greater trust.
If you’re in control of the relationship, you need to know that your decisions and directions will be respected, and they are going to obey.
Instead of overwhelming your submissive with hundreds of rules, an impossible structure to follow, or expecting them to live out some wild edge play fantasy, start small. Give them something manageable. Set only a few easy-to-follow rules. Do something that’s just mildly more dominant than they are used to.
Being a submissive is a skill to be learned. The best way to learn any skill is by occupying the zone of proximal development—the space between what they are capable of doing on their own, without reminder or support, and what they cannot do even with your help. By trusting them with just a few small duties, they can demonstrate their dedication.
They are bound to make mistakes. Don’t belittle them for it. Support them, encourage them, and remind them of the correct way to engage in the structure you’ve set or what your desires are. This applies to following rules just as much as it does to understanding how you like to be pleased sexually.
Especially in play, if you start small, you’ll have the opportunity to observe how they react. For example, starting lightly with impact play allows you to see if they can gauge their own pain tolerance and whether they can be trusted to call a safeword if needed.
As they continue to be successful, you can start adding more structure or intensity. If they’re struggling, then help them overcome her challenges or restructure things to better facilitate the opportunity to demonstrate her trustworthiness.
There are two fundamental ways couples relate: resonance and polarity.
Resonance is when you and your partner are on the same team. You work well together. You agree easily. You like the same things. You share similar perspectives. You’re each other’s best friends.
Resonance feels safe, warm, and comfortable. Over time, couples naturally drift into this space because it is easy, familiar, and tends to reduce conflict.
But resonance does not generate desire.
You cannot want what already feels fully known. You cannot feel drawn toward someone who feels identical to you.
Polarity is the dynamic tension between two different people.
You feel it when your partner surprises you, challenges you, or reveals a part of themselves you have not fully explored. Polarity can be uncomfortable because the other person feels profoundly different from you. They have different traits, different perspectives, and ways of seeing the world that may conflict with your own.
Most couples experience strong polarity in the beginning—when everything is new, when uncertainty creates natural tension, when mystery amplifies difference.
But as relationships mature and partners become familiar, polarity tends to collapse. They meet in the middle. They become alike.
Resonance feels comfortable. It is wonderful for friendship, partnership, and co-parenting.
But resonance does not create sexual fire.
Resonance does not make you want to tear each other’s clothes off.
For that, you need polarity.
Couples who maintain desire for decades are not the couples who agree on everything. They are the couples who have learned to hold both: the familiarity and safety of resonance alongside the dynamic tension of polarity.
They know when to soften into resonance and when to activate polarity.
They move between the two deliberately, not accidentally.
We discussed earlier how, over the course of a relationship, couples tend to create resonance—the gradual minimizing of differences until they practically become the same person. While that can feel warm, safe, and comforting, it does not fuel mystery, curiosity, or desire. Over time, even the qualities we once found fascinating in our partner can start to irritate us—precisely because they are different from us.
Instead, you must actively cultivate and celebrate those differences. Not to the point that you become entirely different people who see each other as enemies. But enough that attraction has room to breathe and build naturally.
The parts of your lover that differ from your own personality?
Cherish them.
Emphasize them.
Love them.
Encourage them.
Enjoy them.
Find the ways those qualities make your life richer.
Imagine how meaningful it would feel if, instead of constantly criticizing a trait your partner expresses, you showed gratitude for it.
Offer them that same gift.
Do you know why the Dom/sub model can be so effective at creating polarity?
Because it intentionally exaggerates and celebrates the differences between the two roles.
In a previous life, I was an architectural designer. Ask any designer, and they’ll tell you that what actually shapes a building isn’t fantastical ideas of extravagant structures with curved walls blending seamlessly into floors (I love curves and made plenty of designs like this). It’s the real-world constraints—resources, logistics, physics, budgets, zoning laws, and so on.
Constraints are not simply limitations to an architect; they are opportunities. They give form to what would otherwise remain abstract. Without them, an idea remains in the fantasy realm of potential and possibility but never sees the light of day because it can’t be built in the real world.
Sex and relationships work in much the same way. We can have elaborate fantasies in our minds, but if we want to experience them in any meaningful way, we have to accept the constraints of reality—emotions, partners’ limits and boundaries, skill levels, laws and social norms, differences in desire, attachment styles, context, and more. Yet we often avoid discussing these things because they feel “unsexy.”
The problem is that when these realities are left unspoken, people end up hurt, frustrated, disappointed, regretful, or resentful. Without integrating the constraints of reality into the process of bringing our fantasies to life, people can feel used and interchangeable. Boundaries and limits get crossed. Scenes fall short and feel flat or empty. Eventually, people burn out under the weight of unrealistic expectations.
Fantasies that were once rich sources of energy begin to drain us so much that we’d rather shut them off and forget about them.
Of course, we can’t.
So they become a source of torment—for ourselves or our partners.
Instead, we have to learn to work with reality, not against it. The goal isn’t to abandon the fantasy. It’s to understand the real-world constraints well enough that we can actually build it.
Getting started with BDSM can be dizzying. What I often tell clients is to start with one thing you both desire—something small, manageable, and easy to focus on—and master that first. You do sex exactly as you’re already doing it, but incorporate one new element.
I call this vanilla plus.
So, if you’ve decided you want to try rough sex, pick one skill and learn that first. For example, you might choose hair pulling. As you’ll see in my hair pulling guide, there are several techniques, positions, and intentions you can explore with hair pulling alone.
When you first begin, you’ll be timid. You’ll stumble. You’ll pull their hair wrong. It won’t create the feeling they’re looking for.
But over time, you’ll gain experience, competence, and proficiency—all of which translate into confidence. Along the way, you both gain opportunities to discuss what the experience is like for you and work through any shame that arises.
If you start with too many skills at once, you’ll likely half-ass all of them, become overwhelmed, and miss the integration experiences that help break down your mental complexes.
The first mental challenge is one deeply ingrained through cultural conditioning.
The Madonna–Whore Complex (MWC) is when someone mentally categorizes women into two separate buckets: pure, saintly “Madonnas” who are respected but cannot be sexually desired, and debased, promiscuous “whores” who are sexually desired but cannot be truly loved. Operating from these beliefs, they then treat those two categories of women differently.
There is a long list of problems that come with holding this complex, but let’s focus specifically on how it shows up in the bedroom with your partner.
If you view your partner only as the Madonna, you’ll assume they would never want to engage in rough sex because that’s not what “respectable” good girls do. Your partner may hide desires for those experiences because they expect judgment or shame if they express them. You may suppress your own natural desires because that’s not “how you treat a lady.”
Wall after wall goes up because you are not accepting the full humanity of your partner.
The truth is: there is no Madonna and there is no whore—there are only women.
Every woman is a sexual being, often with a sexual landscape richer than many men realize. Your mother, the store clerk, the OnlyFans girl, your grandmother, your poly coworker, the sex worker—and your partner—are sexual beings who often want both the freedom to express their sexuality and to be loved, cared for, protected, and have their needs and limits honored.
If you cannot see those people through the same lens of humanity, you’ll likely end up either too timid—or too unsafe—to give someone the type of sex they actually desire.
Your next challenge is the Pain–Pleasure Complex.
Humans love creating categories with neat little lines, but reality exists in many shades of gray (50 to be exact—just kidding). We do the same thing with pleasure and pain, categorizing some activities as pleasurable and others as painful.
For those who lean more pleasure-focused, the concept of pain can feel antithetical. While some pleasure-oriented submissives may feel hesitant about experimenting with pain at first, I’ve more often seen self-described Pleasure Doms struggle with a different mental hurdle:
“I don’t want to hurt them.”
Meanwhile, their eager little sub is begging for it.
What they often fail to recognize is that pain and pleasure are processed through many of the same brain structures and involve overlapping neural pathways. When your body receives sensation, your brain interprets electrical signals from the skin.
Context is what shapes how sensations are interpreted. Context is what makes your submissive beg for a beating when, under normal circumstances, they’d cry like a baby after stubbing their toe.
When sensations occur within the context of BDSM play, several key factors are present:
All of this makes it far more likely that the sensation will be registered as pleasurable.
Now contrast that with something like stubbing your toe.
When you stub your toe:
Context is everything. It’s the mechanism that allows the physiological and psychological processes I described earlier—such as in the spanking example—to occur.
Move away from the idea that you are causing pain and toward the idea that you are creating sensation—which your partner’s nervous system will then interpret.
When you begin viewing it this way, your focus naturally shifts toward what kinds of sensations you want to create rather than obsessing over whether something is painful or not.
The final mental hurdle you’ll likely encounter is wondering whether these activities—especially as they escalate into pinning someone down, restraint, or becoming more forceful—mean you’re raping them.
That hesitation will cause you to pull back—which, honestly, is a good thing. It means you are conscious and that you care about your partner.
The glaring difference between the two is consent.
Your partner has not only said yes to this—they deeply want it.
You’ll likely find yourself wrestling with questions like: Why would my partner want this? (In which case, revisit the MWC.) Or perhaps: Why do I want to do this?
I distinctly remember the first time I pinned my ex-wife to the bed by her wrists, gripping tightly as she playfully squirmed, resisted, and tried to get away. I felt this overwhelming urge to completely ravish her.
Instantly, a wave of shame hit me like a semitruck.
Was this wrong?
I’m not supposed to treat her like that…
But I liked it…
What kind of monster am I?
Learning about consent—specifically concepts like taking and allowing—and working through your own shame will help tremendously.
Your partner can help too.
The single most important thing your partner can do throughout this process is repeatedly reassure you that they want this. That they need this. That they genuinely crave you being more rough.
Not only can this help you work through your own mental hurdles, but they are also helping you deprogram conditioning that may be working against your ability to fully show up in these experiences.
You’re conflating what you do (self-efficacy) with who you are (self-esteem). You’re believing that what you do in this world somehow makes you more or less worthy as a human being.
But sex can be broken down into a set of skills. Just because you haven’t learned those skills yet doesn’t suddenly make you a worse human being. If a kid doesn’t know how to ride a bike, are they somehow less of a person?
On the flip side, if you give an amazing “performance”—meaning you skillfully apply sexual techniques and both of you thoroughly enjoy the experience—does that mean you’re now a sex god and a better human being than everyone else?
No. That’s your ego talking.
The truth is, you’re just like everyone else, except that you happen to be more skillful in one particular domain.
What you do, who you are, and how you perceive yourself are separate but interrelated aspects of the Self. Sex probably isn’t the only area of your life where you conflate the three. Learning to separate them will be difficult, but sex is a great place to practice.
Stop seeing sex as a performance altogether. A performance implies competition, pressure, an audience, a right and wrong way to perform, and a goal to achieve. None of those make for pleasurable sex. (Well, maybe an audience does if you’re an exhibitionist.)
In kink, we call what we do play, which I quite like because play implies that there doesn’t have to be a goal—the purpose of the act can simply be the enjoyment of the act itself.
Play implies fun. Celebration. Connection. Discovery. Exploring pleasure. Enjoying the journey. Appreciating whatever arises.
There’s no performance to perfect. No score to achieve. No proof of your worth.
You’re there to play.
Do you want the greatest sex technique on the entire internet?
Guaranteed to drain balls and leave pussies soaking wet?
One technique to rule them all?
Here’s the secret… open your mouth and ask your partner how they want to be touched.
GASP!
Too often, we try to please our partners based on what we think they want rather than simply asking them—and then doing exactly what they tell us.
This happens all the time. Maybe you discovered a technique with a past partner that drove them wild. Maybe they told you it was the best they’d ever had. Naturally, you take that as validation and assume that technique is your golden ticket.
You think, My hands, my mouth, my dick—that’s what made them feel so good. I did that. I’m the source of their pleasure.
And then—boom. You try the exact same move on someone else (or even the same person on a different day), and… nothing. It’s just meh.
Sometimes, you double down, thinking, Maybe if I go faster? Harder? But it doesn’t work.
This happens a lot with men because we tend to tie our self-worth to what we do (ask me how I know). If we perform well, we’re a “good” person. It happens to ladies, too. I’ve met plenty of women who swear they give the best head, only for the reality to be… well, underwhelming. No one escapes this.
The truth is, pleasure isn’t about what you do—it’s about how your partner experiences it.
Pleasure is the interpretation that particular sensations feel good and others bad. The only person who can make that interpretation is the person being touched. Pleasure is subjective to that individual. What feels pleasurable to them does not necessarily feel pleasurable to the next person.
Yes, there are general erogenous zones because we all have nerve endings in the same places. But the individual preferences for exactly how to touch each is so vast that you’d be crazy to try mindreading your partner. Yet, this is exactly what we do.
This extends beyond the physical, too. It’s easy to think you’re an amazing Dom or sub when, in reality, you were just embodying the fantasy your partner already had in their head.
At the end of the day, you are not the source of your partner’s pleasure—you’re only a facilitator.
When you embrace this, everything changes. You realize you need to ask your partner what they desire, how they want to be touched. In tantric touch, communication is continuous because we’re chasing pleasure together:
Stop fucking each other with your egos. Start actually connecting.
Two Doms can perform the exact same actions on the exact same submissive and produce entirely different experiences.
So, even if you become technically proficient in every BDSM skill, you still need to master the principles behind how you deliver those actions. Your presence, intention, timing, confidence, and understanding of your submissive are what transform a technical action into an experience that evokes the emotions and fulfills the desires they’re craving.
Technique gives you the ability to perform the action. How you deliver it determines how that action feels.
A Dom uses control to facilitate the goals and desires of both the Dom and the submissive.
So, control is the tool they use to reach a mutually consented-upon goal. Rather than thinking of the different types of Doms as siloed identities, think of them more as toolbelts—different ways of enacting control over a submissive.
As a Dom, you get to choose which tools you want to use. An effective Dom uses whatever tools are best suited to achieving the desired outcome. Rather than define every type of Dom, let me point out the primary tool associated with each one.
The main tools of different types of Dominants are:
Of course, this is overly reductionistic, but that’s intentional. The point is to illustrate that a Pleasure Dom’s primary tool of control is pleasure.
Being a Pleasure Dom isn’t just about delivering pleasure or chasing endless orgasms. It’s about taking control of the timing and intensity of pleasure. It’s about becoming the authority over when and how the submissive experiences that pleasure and directing their emotional landscape through shame, joy, satisfaction, or even frustration. It’s this exchange of power—the witnessing of their reactions and the control over their experience—that a Pleasure Dom finds deeply intimate.
As the Pleasure Dom turns the submissive into a puddle of goo, possibly even helping them reach subspace, they know that, in that moment, they are the arbiter and source of the submissive’s pleasure. They hold the power. As they intensify the submissive’s pleasure, the sub’s desire can become increasingly consuming until they’re desperate for more. The Dom controls whether, when, and how they get it.
In fact, sometimes the very fact that the Pleasure Dom still has enough control over their own faculties after turning someone into the aforementioned puddle of goo not to immediately give in to desire becomes part of the power cocktail.
It’s like saying, “Look, I can entirely and utterly ruin you, and I’m perfectly fine.”
Whenever you want something in life, you don’t necessarily want the thing itself, but rather the feeling you believe that thing will evoke in you.
Why do we care about emotions? Because some of our fantasies may be difficult to fulfill—either on our own or with a partner. Some may be considered too dark, risky, or impractical, and we may never actually want to act on them outside the confines of our minds.
However, if we understand the emotions behind a fantasy, we may be able to recreate the same emotional experience through different acts with less risk.
For example, if you have a capture-and-takedown CNC (consensual non-consent) fantasy, starting with light bondage and heavy dirty talk may help you evoke some of the same feelings. In some cases, you may discover that you don’t need to fully recreate the fantasy at all. You can fulfill the emotional desire underneath it through entirely different means.
And if you eventually decide you do want to explore the fantasy more fully, understanding the emotions you’re actually seeking can help you design the experience around what made the fantasy appealing in the first place.
As with anything in kink, negotiation is one of the most important steps. It ensures that the interaction is not only consensual but also exciting and enjoyable for everyone involved. In roleplay, this means discussing the characters or roles you’ll each take on and outlining the basic scenario you’ll be playing out.
The key during negotiation is to understand how each chosen role or scenario might affect every person participating.
From a safety perspective, remember that what might be one person’s fantasy could be another’s trauma trigger. If certain roles or scenarios are uncomfortable, it’s essential to share your boundaries and limits beforehand.
From a pleasure perspective, the goal is to make the roles as erotic and engaging as possible. You can ask questions like:
If you’re worried that your fantasy is too extreme or too taboo, remember: as long as you and your partner both consent, refrain from judgment, and respect one another’s boundaries, you are free to explore whatever scenarios turn you on—no matter how dark or twisted. The whole point of roleplay is that it isn’t real.
Before you begin, I recommend establishing a simple storyline for your scene—something like, “I’m your teacher, I catch you cheating, and I have to spank you.” That gives both you and your partner a starting point to work from. Then, negotiate the limits and boundaries of what’s included in the scene so everyone feels safe and fully engaged.
The first pillar of a great scene is having a general goal in mind.
Now, this may seem counterintuitive to other sex advice that tells you not to have a goal when engaging in sex. In fact, I’ve even mentioned that focusing too heavily on a goal can lead to sexual performance anxiety or make it more difficult to reach subspace.
However, I’ve also explained that, as a Dom, your responsibility is to set a vision and direction for the dynamic—which includes the scenes you create.
So, what gives?
The answer is to have a goal without the expectation of reaching that goal.
Without a goal, you have no idea where you’re headed or how to plan the journey. There are actions you can take to make an orgasm, subspace, or one hell of a good time more likely. Without an aim, though, you can’t intentionally structure the scene toward those outcomes.
So, set a goal, but don’t put pressure on yourself or your submissive to achieve it at all costs. Think of it more like, “This would be really cool if we reached it, but if we don’t, we’re still going to have a lot of fun along the way.”
The goal gives you direction. Letting go of the expectation gives you the freedom to enjoy wherever the scene actually takes you.
That’s simply a reality we have to accept every time we engage in play.
However, the goal is not zero risk. The only way to eliminate the risks of BDSM is to avoid it entirely—but then you pay the opportunity cost of missing out on the thrills, psychological integration, pleasure, and intimacy it can provide. And let’s be honest—danger is part of the fun.
Instead, the goal is to make activities safe enough through better practices, stronger preparation, and smarter decisions—so that you feel comfortable engaging and are willing to accept the worst-case consequences in the unlikely event they occur.
Creating risk profiles allows you to:
Most importantly, it allows you to have fun without living in fear—while still being responsible. And when someone suggests a risky activity, you’re fully aware of—and consciously choosing—what you’re about to engage in.
The brain constantly conserves energy by reinforcing existing mental models and seeking confirmation of perceived patterns. Unfortunately, when those models are shaped by trauma, certain experiences can trigger unwanted associations or reinforce existing distress. Engaging in BDSM or sexual activities while highly distressed can therefore create negative associations between that distress and sex, potentially inhibiting pleasure.
A good example of this is the feedback loop of sexual performance anxiety. When something—such as a traumatic trigger—causes stress or anxiety, the body may have difficulty responding sexually, such as maintaining an erection or reaching orgasm. The more frequently this happens, the more someone may begin to anticipate the same difficulty, creating additional stress and reinforcing the cycle.
The key is to create safety and stabilization when these triggers arise. Safety precedes pleasure—both physically and emotionally. This applies to all genders. Far too often, men equate safety only with physical safety and disregard their emotional safety, which can contribute to negative associations with sex and the very performance issues described above.
What’s most important is to ask your partner what helps them feel safe and regulated—and then use those strategies consistently when needed. You can’t simply decide what safety should look like for another person. By learning what helps your partner return to a sense of safety, you create the conditions for them to feel more at ease, laying the foundation for deeper pleasure and intimacy.
Here are some questions that can be helpful:
One of the biggest complaints women have about guys during sex is that they rush everything. They’re so hyper-focused on getting to the finish line that it’s all over too quickly. You act like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a naked woman and there will never be another one. We’re not Indiana Jones trying to get through the tunnel and back out in record time.
If you really want to drive her wild, you need to slow everything down. Women often need time to build arousal and increase blood flow to their erogenous zones. The longer you allow that arousal to build, the more pleasurable the experience can become and the easier it may be for her to orgasm.
And the more pleasurable sex is for her, the more she’ll want to have sex with you in the future. So, if you want to be entirely selfish about this, it’s actually in your best interest to slow down. Of course, you care about your partner’s pleasure, which is why you’re here.
So, with every technique you use, I want you to slow it down. Think you’re going slowly enough? Go slower. Spend time on each step and really savor it as if it were a rich piece of chocolate cake.
Tease her. Build tension. Two steps forward, one step back. Bring her right to the cusp of becoming a little impatient for more. Then, when you finally move to the next step, she’ll experience the pleasure of release from all that tension you’ve built.
You’ll know when she’s ready for you to move to the next step because her body will start inviting you forward—arching toward you, pressing herself into you, or literally begging you for more.
Don’t rush to the destination. Make her crave getting there.
First, it allows them to sink into bodily sensation and mentally prepare for what’s coming. Second, it increases blood flow throughout the body, which can help mitigate mild tissue trauma while simultaneously heightening sensation in erogenous zones.
To do this, you’ll start with lower-intensity acts at the beginning—such as lighter spanking or slapping—and gradually build toward greater intensity over the course of the sexual interaction.
This becomes especially important for penetration. Rough penetration or vigorous thrusting can create microtears in the vagina or anus if the person is not sufficiently aroused, their muscles have not been engorged with blood, or their body has not had time to relax. Similarly, without enough time to relax the jaw, face fucking can create significant discomfort.
Think of sex more like a symphony, where each action plays its role, slowly building over time, reaching a crescendo, and eventually returning to baseline—leaving the listener pleased and satiated.
In fact, this mirrors the orgasm cycle:
Lead-in: Prepare her mentally for what is to come (Excitement)
Ramp-up: Deepen her mental state and prepare her physically (Plateau)
Release: Reach the climax of your scene (Orgasm)
Relax: Bring her down and help her recover (Resolution)
This cycle serves as a useful model for sequencing sexual interactions in a way that creates a satisfying experience for both people.
Consider which actions increase their desire and excitement, which actions help sustain arousal as they build toward orgasm, which actions tip them over the edge, and which ones are designed to bring them gently back down to earth.
In BDSM, we call these structured progressions scenes, and there is an entire art to crafting them well.
For them, these phases help create familiarity with you, deepen their submissive headspace, and warm their body up for greater intensity.
For you, they help you learn their body and how they respond to your actions, allow you to build confidence as the scene progresses, and ensure you have a range of experiences to draw from throughout the session.
Once you’ve started learning a few techniques and begun understanding how to sequence them, you can start focusing on varying your intensity throughout the session.
Think of it like a roller coaster—you’re moving up and down in intensity. Essentially, what you’re creating are pattern interruptions.
This creates a more engaging experience than staying exclusively in low-intensity, soft, sensual territory—where things may become under-stimulating—or remaining in constant high-intensity, rough, hard intensity, where things can become overstimulating or overwhelming.
Doing this well takes practice because you have to become attuned to your partner’s body language, recognizing when their body is open and inviting more, and when it begins to constrict and needs you to back off a little.
Signs the Intensity Feels Good
Signs the Intensity May Be Too Much
One additional benefit of varying intensity is that it can help you regulate your own arousal, potentially allowing you to last longer.
Crucially, you generally do not want to change intensity when they are close to orgasm. At that point, they often need consistent stimulation—at whatever intensity level you’ve reached—to help carry them over the edge.
If you struggle to give direction in the bedroom, ask yourself at any given moment: What would make this feel even more incredible?
I want you to get hyperspecific. Are you getting a blowjob? What would make that blowjob feel incredible? More spit? A certain motion? Playing with your balls? Whatever it is, tell them exactly what you want and what would feel good.
Doing so creates a feedback loop: You have a desire. You ask for it. They do it. It feels good. You recognize that expressing what you want improves the experience, and you become more confident giving direction.
It creates a feedback loop for them, too. They want to know how to please you. You tell them. They do it. They see you light up and receive praise for giving you what you want. That positive reinforcement makes them more receptive to your direction in the future.
The more you practice this cycle, the easier giving direction becomes. You don’t need to know exactly what you’ll want before sex begins. You simply need to stay connected to what you’re experiencing and keep asking yourself: What would feel good right now?
Your voice—particularly your commands—is going to be your number one tool for directing your submissive. Commands are so central that they appear first in my code of conduct for submissives, and the very first rule in my Dom/sub contract is: “I will always listen to commands and guidance given by Him — unless it causes me harm. He always has final say.”
Now, if you’re just starting out as a Dom, it’s unlikely you’ll be taking that level of control immediately. More often, you’ll be leading in the bedroom, where your commands guide the scene and shape the sexual experience. This means your delivery—the way you say things—matters just as much as the content of your words.
When it comes to dirty talk, the line between making your sub melt and making them cringe often comes down to your delivery. If your voice or body language signals discomfort or insecurity, your dirty talk can have the opposite effect and turn them off. But when you speak with grounded confidence, when the words feel like they’re coming from your core, they’ll respond—often viscerally.
Here’s what weak versus strong delivery looks like:
Weak Delivery
Strong Delivery
My recommendation: choose a handful of phrases you want to start using and practice saying them out loud. Yes—literally practice. Say them in the mirror, say them in the shower, say them while washing dishes. It might feel silly at first, but the goal is for these phrases to become normal and comfortable in your mouth. That way, when you’re in the bedroom, it’s just another rep—you’ll deliver them naturally, confidently, and with the kind of presence that makes your partner melt.
While there are plenty of techniques you can use to manhandle your submissive, manhandling is more of a mindset than any one specific act. I’m going to give you a bunch of my favorites, but what’s most important is internalizing the mindset behind these movements. Once you do, you’ll naturally use the movements that feel most authentic to what you want and need in the moment.
Core mindset for manhandling: You’re in charge. Use your physical strength to exert your will and move them where you need them without hesitation.
Pretend for a moment that your sweet submissive is a sex doll. Would you hesitate or be overly gentle with the sex doll when you needed it in a different position or wanted to move it? No. You’d simply move that thing around without hesitation. You’d have a desire and automatically act on it without giving it a second thought.
Obviously, you need to use more care with a living person so you don’t injure yourself or them. However, the more you can shorten the gap between the desire to move them and the movement itself—and eliminate the second-guessing in between—the better you’ll become at manhandling.
With practice, you’ll develop greater trust in your ability to move them in the right direction with the appropriate amount of force. Eventually, the movements will become second nature.
Spanking is a fairly low-risk activity in terms of physical injury; however, it’s not entirely risk-free, especially if you’re aiming for the wrong areas.
General guideline: Aim for the softest, fleshiest areas of the butt and avoid striking near bone. Striking bone can hurt both your hand and their body, potentially causing injury to either of you. Additionally, the thighs and areas beneath the butt cheeks can be more tender and vulnerable to skin damage, so strikes to these areas should be used more sparingly.
Avoid hitting:
Do hit:
The easiest and safest way to grab someone’s hair is from the back of your partner’s head, near the base of the skull. This position gives you greater control while keeping your grip close to the scalp.
Basic hair pulling:
Despite the name, you don’t actually have to pull their hair very much. Their scalp is already being stimulated in this position. From here, you can slowly increase the intensity of the sensation with a light tug away from the scalp.
I promise, it won’t take much to get them moving in the direction you want.
You’re going to place your hand around their neck, except you’re not going to apply any pressure, compression, or restriction.
To perform a fantasy choke:
Fantasy chokes can provide many of the same mental and emotional sensations of being dominated without restricting air or blood flow.
The mechanics of a safe face slap are relatively simple—the challenge lies in accuracy and control.
Begin with light taps, keeping your hand only a few inches from their face. While this won’t feel like much of a slap, it helps you practice your aim and allows their skin to warm up.
Next, move your hand 6 to 12 inches away and graduate to light slaps. At this distance, you can still deliver a satisfying sting while maintaining precision. Rubbing the area afterward can help soothe the skin.
If your hand starts to hurt, you’re likely slapping too hard. It’s better to start too gently than too rough—especially in the beginning. As your technique improves and your partner expresses interest in greater intensity, you can gradually increase the force while maintaining accuracy and avoiding injury.
The general guideline for biting: Areas of the body with large muscles and plenty of flesh are generally better for biting. Areas with less flesh, more prominent bones, or less padding over vulnerable structures are better avoided.
Every person is different when it comes to where they enjoy being bitten. Of course, you can—and should—ask your partner where they do and don’t like to be bitten. But you can also explore together to discover the spots that are most pleasurable for them.
As you move your mouth around their body, start with light nibbles and pay attention to their responses. When you notice a particularly strong response—moaning, sounds of pleasure, leaning into your mouth, or otherwise inviting more—don’t immediately move on. Stay there and gradually increase the intensity within the limits you’ve already established.
This is by far the most important principle of face fucking because if you go too hard, too deep, or too fast, you can hurt them. They need time to adjust to the motion of your cock moving in and out of their mouth, especially once they no longer have control over the movement.
Start by letting them have control and give you a blowjob. Let them suck slowly and become accustomed to your cock. Let them get comfortable. Build trust. Don’t put your hands on or grab their head yet.
Once you’ve established that trust and they’ve physically adjusted to sucking your cock, you can begin taking control and transition into face fucking. Start slowly, moving only the head of your cock in and out of their mouth. Let them adjust to that depth before going any farther.
Gradually increase the depth while paying close attention to their responses. When you reach the point where they begin to gag or otherwise signal that they’re approaching their limit, pull back and give them a moment to recover. You’ve now established an approximate range you can work within.
From there, you can resume and gradually increase the pace while staying within the limits you’ve established together.
You’ve probably seen guides that look like the Kama Sutra, featuring dozens of positions—some requiring incredible flexibility, coordination, or strength to pull off. While those may be a cool trick every once in a while, they’re often impractical. And unless you’ve done them many times before, they’re usually executed poorly, making you seem uncertain and, therefore, less dominant.
The truth is, there are really only three main positions:
Everything else is just some variation of those.
You don’t need to know hundreds of different positions to create a great experience. Instead, you only need to know how to do a few variations very well. The goal here is pleasure—physical and mental—not performing acrobatics in the bedroom.
Many first-time anal receivers assume that getting on all fours is the best position, but that can be surprisingly intense if you haven’t done anal before. It’s also not ideal for staying as relaxed as possible during the process.
A better option to start with is the spooning position—where the receiving partner lies on their side and the penetrating partner lies behind them. This position tends to be far more relaxed and can feel more intimate for a first experience. You can keep your face close to theirs, whisper encouraging dirty talk, remind them to breathe, and help them stay aroused and relaxed throughout.
Another popular position is with the receiving partner lying flat on their stomach, with the penetrating partner on top. While this doesn’t give the receiver much control, it’s often more comfortable than doggy style and naturally limits depth, which can make it a good early option.
The opposite variation is to have them lie back on top of you, with their back flat against your chest and their weight resting on your stomach. From here, you can easily reach around and stimulate their genitals, which may help them have their first orgasm with a cock inside their ass.
Once they have more experience and confidence, you can start experimenting with doggy style or other more vigorous positions.
Many men default to jackhammering in and out. There is a time and place for that, but not for the entire experience.
The problem is that this style of thrusting requires you to tense your core, glutes, hamstrings, and pelvic floor muscles. These are the same muscles that tense and contract during ejaculation. When you keep them engaged the entire time, you’re pushing yourself toward orgasm more quickly.
Instead, you want to unlock the hinges of your hips and spine so you can move in multiple directions—undulating your spine and gyrating your hips, almost like a belly dancer.
Moving this way allows you to use these areas without excessive tension and invites deeper breathing, both of which help you modulate arousal levels and last longer. For her, it creates more dynamic movement and stimulation across different areas of the vagina.
For some people, this is going to be obvious. Toys introduce novelty and allow you to create sensations that you may not be able to produce with your body alone.
However, for others, the idea of bringing a toy into the bedroom can be intimidating. They may be unsure of how it will feel, or they may feel threatened because they think they’re somehow competing with the toy.
The first group is often made up of submissives. This anxiety can often be eased by letting the person explore the toy on their own and at their own pace. It also helps to start slow or small and gradually work your way up to bigger toys or more intense sensations.
The latter group is often made up of Dominants, specifically men. (Sorry, guys, but we both know it’s true.) Some guys get caught up in seeing themselves as the source of their partner’s orgasm and may feel threatened by bringing a toy into the bedroom.
However, this is shortsighted thinking.
First off, arousal happens in their mind. Ultimately, they make their orgasms happen. You’re there as a facilitator. As the facilitator, you can make an orgasm more likely by doing or using whatever feels good to them. And if the goal is pleasure, wouldn’t you want to use whatever is most pleasurable for them?
Toys make that far easier.
Yes, I recommend getting good with your mouth, fingers, and dick. But toys can help you tap into something your fingers can’t reach: her mind. I promise you, those locked-away fantasies will make her cum harder than your dick ever will on its own.
Don’t think of toys as competition. Think of them as extensions of your dominance.
A riding crop isn’t just an impact toy; it’s a tool for expressing your discipline. A vibrator isn’t just a pleasure toy; it’s your tool for turning her into a desperate, feral, blissed-out, unthinking puddle of overstimulated nerve endings who is begging you for release.
The toy isn’t replacing you. You’re the one wielding it.
Every Dom worth their name has a toolkit—just like any skilled craftsman. These tools (or toys, depending on your preference) can become an integral part of the play you share with your submissive.
Novice Doms often fall into the trap of becoming a “Gadget Dom,” believing that the power of their play lies in the gear—vibrators, ropes, paddles, and whatever else they can add to their collection. But the tools are meant to enhance the experience, not create it.
My recommendation? Focus on what excites you as a Dom and build your skills around that. There are shibari masters who have no interest in spanking and spankers who couldn’t care less about the intricacies of ropework. Trying to master everything just to appeal to a wider range of subs is a mistake. You risk becoming a “Vending Machine Dom”—a service provider dispensing whatever someone requests rather than developing your own authentic style of Dominance.
Once you understand what turns you on and the kind of play you want to offer, you can start building your toolkit around that.
For example, if you’re interested in restraint but don’t want to dive into the knot-tying, safety considerations, and maintenance involved with rope, then leather cuffs, bondage tape, or other light bondage options might be your go-to.
Or maybe you’re excited by orgasm control and edging. In that case, a magic wand might serve your purposes better than a dildo that requires more physical effort to use.
Figure out what you want from the experience—and what you want to give your partners. Then build your toolkit around those desires.
The question isn’t, “What toys should a Dom own?” It’s, “What tools will help me create the experiences I want to create?”
One reason degradation is misunderstood is because it’s often used interchangeably—or confused—with two closely related kinks: humiliation and objectification. I’m not here to offer a final, fixed definition of these terms, but rather to help you understand how they might differ. They’re not mutually exclusive; they often overlap for some people, and not at all for others.
As an example:
Degradation is the act of reducing the submissive below the Dominant in some way, creating a power differential. It’s an act that can make the submissive less self-conscious because their attention becomes singularly focused on their purpose: to serve in a lesser, subordinated role. We’ll explore this more in a moment, but it’s important to note that what’s being degraded—whether it’s worth, honor, strength, character, rank, or status—can have vastly different effects on the submissive.
Humiliation involves causing someone a painful loss of pride, self-respect, or dignity, resulting in shame or embarrassment. It’s an act that typically makes the submissive more self-conscious, engaging their self-perception and forcing them to confront their fears and shame. It plays on our anxiety about how others perceive and respond to us.
Objectification is the treatment of the submissive as an object—something with no autonomy, agency, thoughts, or feelings—that serves a sole purpose as a tool or instrument to be used. If degradation is the lessening of the submissive’s human qualities, objectification could be seen as the elimination of them. However, this doesn’t always mean being treated as a worthless object. One can be objectified as something highly desirable—sexually, or as a work of art and beauty—yet still have their status as a human being entirely stripped away.
An example of the praise + degradation + ownership combo might be:
“You’re my beautiful little fuckdoll, aren’t you?”
Here, “beautiful” offers praise, “little” introduces degradation, and “fuckdoll” objectifies. The inclusion of “my” reinforces ownership and communicates your desire for them—reminding them that they are this thing specifically for you. They are becoming what you desire them to be, and you see that as deeply personal. Having them say “yes” and repeat it back reinforces that dynamic and helps them drop into that headspace.
Of course, each of those elements can be intensified depending on the language used. For example:
“You’re such a good girl for letting me use your princess parts like a slutty piece of dirty fuckmeat.”
At first glance, it can seem confusing why someone would want to be stripped of part of their humanity and treated as an object—especially when so much effort, including bloodshed, has gone into securing human rights.
Consider, for a moment, the experience of being human. What does your moment-to-moment existence often entail?
For many people, it includes:
It’s the perceived burden we believe we all must carry. (We don’t, but that’s a much deeper article.)
Now consider what it means to be an object—or, more specifically, a tool. When someone surrenders to that role, they can temporarily set aside those anxieties. A tool has one singular purpose: to serve its function and be used as the best damn [insert object here] it can be.
There’s no existential crisis about what it should be doing. No worrying about whether it’s living up to society’s expectations. No endless list of competing responsibilities. There is simply its purpose and how well it fulfills it.
That singular focus can make objectification an intense form of service. Not only is what the submissive does useful, but their very physical presence becomes useful toward fulfilling a specific purpose.
There are classic examples of objectification, but it can be even more impactful to think about objects that would be personally useful to you.
If you think of your submissive as a tool, ask yourself: What is their singular purpose in this particular scene?
When approached this way, you may come up with objects they can roleplay and embody that are unique to your desires, your relationship, and your dynamic.
Many people assume they need special toys, tools, or equipment to engage in bondage (or any form of BDSM, for that matter). But those items are just specially designed tools that serve a specific purpose.
That purpose is: to restrain your partner and limit their control over their own movement.
Now, think about that in the most basic terms. How could you accomplish that?
You might:
The methods you use to achieve these restraints—and the tools you choose—are virtually limitless. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking you must use rope or some other popular BDSM item.
In fact, you don’t need any tools at all. You could use mental or verbal bondage, which relies on spoken commands, gestures, or implied instructions to create the experience of control and restraint.
As long as you stay safe, consensual, and attuned to your partner, you’re free to get as creative as you like with your bondage.
Setting aside whether certain acts are socially acceptable, the real ethical dilemma with public play is whether the strangers around you have consented to being involved. Just because you’re comfortable with people seeing your kink doesn’t mean they’re comfortable witnessing it—especially if their presence or reactions become part of your sexual gratification without them ever having the opportunity to consent.
Even worse, poor planning and a lack of caution can inadvertently expose children to sexual activities, which is absolutely unacceptable.
I’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong to do in public. You need to think for yourself and decide where that line lies for your own actions. Personally, I tend to believe public play should either happen in spaces where everyone knowingly enters an environment where kink or sexual activity may occur, such as a play party, or be discreet enough that uninvolved bystanders remain unaware and unaffected.
Regardless of where you draw the line, the point is to consider more than just the consent between you and your partner. Be aware of the context, who else may be present, whether your actions involve them in any meaningful way, and whether their consent is needed.
Your scene may belong to you and your partner, but the space around it may not.
A gift is something freely given—within your limits, but without expectation or demand. Your partner doesn’t have to “earn” it, and there’s no requirement for reciprocation.
I’ve given many yoni massages over the years, and every woman I’ve given one to has profusely thanked me—even submissive women who proclaim to love having their bodies “used.”
What a yoni massage really boils down to is a gift. You’re giving your partner the opportunity to feel loved, cherished, worshipped, and honored—feelings that can be utterly absent from our day-to-day lives. Not only that, but you’re giving her those feelings through intimate attention to a part of her body deeply connected to her sexuality and, for some women, their sense of femininity.
Potential benefits of a yoni massage:
It’s not uncommon for someone to experience strong emotions during a yoni massage, including crying. Intimate touch, vulnerability, sustained attention, and physical relaxation can bring emotions to the surface. Rather than treating those reactions as something that needs to be fixed, allow her the space to experience whatever arises.
Afterward, she may feel deeply relaxed, comforted, connected, and genuinely appreciated.
As a Dom, one important part of leading your submissive is creating the conditions in which they can surrender fully—surrendering to your leadership, surrendering to their desires, and surrendering to their pleasure. A yoni massage can be a powerful way to invite that surrender in a physically and emotionally vulnerable setting while building trust that they are quite literally safe in your hands.
I recommend teaching your submissive the command “breathe,” instructing them to slow down and synchronize their breathing with yours. You can reinforce the command by placing your hand on their solar plexus, helping them direct their awareness to that area and creating a mind-body connection similar to how a trainer might help you engage a particular muscle at the gym.
Practice the command when they’re calm so they become familiar with what it means and how to respond to it. Then, once they understand the command, you can use it during sex or kink play when they become highly aroused or overstimulated.
For example, if you’ve been giving your submissive multiple orgasms and overstimulating their genitals, they may reach a point where their breathing becomes rapid and difficult to regulate. In that moment, the familiar command “breathe” can help capture their attention and cue them to slow down, reconnect with their body, and synchronize their breathing with yours.
Eye gazing is not the same as staring, even though, at a quick glance, they may appear similar to an outside observer.
When someone stares at you, their eyes may be wide or tense as they attempt to take in information about the person they’re observing. They’re mentally evaluating—making judgments, categorizations, or assessments to determine whether you’re a threat, a friend, a potential partner, and so on. A stare carries intention, can feel penetrative or forceful, and isn’t necessarily mutually welcomed. In short, being stared at can feel uncomfortable.
When someone eye gazes with you, their eyes are soft and free of tension, calmly accepting whatever they see in you. They aren’t there to judge, impose, change, or deny your being—only to witness and observe. The gaze carries no agenda. It feels gentle and relaxed. Most importantly, it’s something you’re doing together.
Aftercare is a post-scene ritual that helps you transition from the headspace of the interaction back into everyday reality while mitigating—or sometimes avoiding—the emotional lows associated with experiences like subdrop.
For many people, aftercare may look like cuddling with a partner, wrapping up in a warm blanket, eating, drinking, or simply resting together. But it doesn’t have to look that way. For some people, what they need might be space, solitude, or even a cold shower.
More important than the specific actions is ensuring that each participant receives what they need to transition their mind and body from the fantasy realm of the scene back to the reality of everyday life.
I like to think of aftercare as part of the overall story arc of a scene, acting as a bookend.
At the front end of a scene, you have foreplay, which helps transition you from a regular, everyday mindset into a more aroused state and headspace. The actions that happen during foreplay signal that you're entering a fantasy realm and prepare your mind and body for a journey of pleasure.
Then comes the scene itself, filled with an adventure of emotions and sensations that differ dramatically from everyday experience.
At the back end of the scene, aftercare marks the conclusion of that adventure and supports your transition back into your normal role. It helps minimize the aftereffects of the journey, making it easier to return to everyday life and function well once the scene is over.
Rather than dictating what aftercare should look like, I recommend discussing with your partner what it looks like for each of you.
What I do want to emphasize is that aftercare matters for both people.
Even if you were the one doing the actions, you may still need help transitioning out of the headspace created by what you just engaged in. I point this out because one of the mental gremlins you’re likely to encounter afterward is tied to the complexes we discussed earlier: questioning whether you’re a monster for having done some of those things to her.
Receiving reassurance during this period can be tremendously helpful in rewriting those narratives.
The more you hear that yes—they loved it, want it again, and do not think you’re a monster—the easier it becomes the next time.
At the core, what I find fulfilling about being a Daddy is the “corruption”—or, rather, transformation—of seeming innocence. Not in a malevolent way, but in a way that says, “You have a naive view of the world, putting things into neat little categories in your mind like a child does. But if you remove the judgment, shame, and guilt clouding your desires, there is a world of possibility waiting for you.”
Then, that seemingly innocent good girl becomes a woman who fully expresses every depraved desire she has—and becomes a stronger woman because of it.
To me, being a Daddy means creating a safe space and protecting her, both from the outside world and from her own self-denial and self-sabotage. Every time you explore your kinks and sexuality within this container, it’s like giving her small doses of poison—big Daddy poison—to build a stronger immune system against the bullshit she’ll face when she puts her big-girl pants back on.
You want her to become stronger and more confident in herself, both inside and outside the bedroom—as if you’re preparing her not to need a Daddy one day. You believe in her more than she believes in herself. You take great pride in her successes. After all, you helped mold and shape the woman she has become.
You need to know that she can hold her own in the outside world and still chooses to submit to you.
During that process, the Daddy Dom provides:
Now that you’ve established a direction for your dynamic and understand its needs, it’s time to define how you’ll get there. In other words: How does each of us need to behave in our respective roles in order to fulfill the goals we’ve set?
A Code of Conduct lays out the expected behaviors for both partners—not just the submissive. Remember: Master yourself before you master another person.
A Code of Conduct might include:
This hierarchy provides both flexibility and stability.
Iron Rules form the foundation. They give the submissive a consistent understanding of what is expected of them and what behaviors embody their role. Rituals reinforce the dynamic through repetition and meaning. Protocols adapt those expectations to different contexts. Assignments allow the Dominant to address temporary needs or goals. And commands give the Dominant the flexibility to steer the dynamic in real time.
For instance, a protocol might modify an Iron Rule in a particular situation, while a command can temporarily override everything else. The structure remains stable without becoming rigid, allowing the Dominant to respond to what the dynamic actually needs in the moment.
As the Dom, I begin by asking myself a few key questions:
What’s annoying for me to do? One of the biggest failure points in creating rules is when a Dom designs ones that sound sexy in theory but, in practice, are impractical, inconsistent, or unsustainable. You might forget to enforce them or eventually stop caring whether they’re followed.
But when you assign rules that actually relieve you of tasks you find frustrating or tedious, you’re far more likely to notice when they aren’t completed—and remain invested in holding your submissive accountable. Plus, by delegating those tasks, you free up time and energy for higher-priority aspects of the dynamic.
What would improve the relationship? Some tasks simply make the D/s dynamic run more smoothly. For example: keeping the contract updated, sourcing new scene ideas, or planning logistics for dates and play sessions. While the Dominant may make the final decisions, the submissive can often do the research, generate ideas, and handle implementation. That’s not just service—it’s strategic partnership.
What would make me feel cherished? Some rules are entirely indulgent, and that’s okay. What matters is that they nourish you. For example, I love receiving massages—not just because they feel good, but because I push myself hard at the gym. Having someone tend to my sore muscles isn’t just physical care; it makes me feel seen, supported, and cared for.
While I’m doing my own reflection, I’ll also ask them to consider:
These questions help me assess their strengths, internal motivations, and limits.
Yes, the submissive can learn new skills to fulfill assigned duties, but I find it’s often more sustainable to start with what they’re already good at and enthusiastic about. That said, not every rule will be fun. Some will suck—that’s simply their nature. Others may be challenging to learn. But if a rule brings deep meaning to the Dom, supports the goals of the dynamic, or fosters meaningful growth in the submissive, it may still be worth implementing.
The best rules aren’t necessarily the ones that sound the sexiest. They’re the ones that continue to serve the dynamic after the fantasy meets real life.
The more complicated the structure you create at the beginning, the harder it will be for you to uphold as the Dom and for them to follow as the submissive. As a result, the structure can quickly become overwhelming, burdensome, and ultimately meaningless. You’ll both hate it and want to abandon the process before it has even begun.
Make the structure easy to remember and easy to implement. Start with one simple rule—such as, “I will always listen to commands and guidance given by Him”—and practice it until it becomes an established part of the dynamic before adding another.
You can always add complexity later. It’s much harder to build consistency when you’re trying to maintain an elaborate system neither of you has learned how to live yet.
This is where the rubber meets the road. You’ve formed a hypothesis about what might work for your dynamic—now it’s time to test it in the real world.
A quick heads-up: It probably won’t work perfectly. At least not right away.
That’s okay. This is experimentation. You’re learning together what works and what doesn’t. Don’t let early struggles discourage you. They’re part of the process.
In my experience, this is where protocols are truly developed. You may have a general idea of how you want certain behaviors to look in particular situations, but it’s not until you actually encounter those situations that clarity emerges.
Many of the protocols I use with my submissive were born out of lived experiences—hosting a dinner party with friends, traveling together, navigating differences in communication styles—moments when I hadn’t anticipated the need to modify a rule or adjust how much D/s energy we wanted present. Sometimes we needed to ramp it up; other times, we needed to dial it back.
Over time, as you encounter more situations, determining the appropriate level of protocol becomes easier and more intuitive.
As you learn more about yourselves, each other, and what your dynamic actually requires, you can evolve the structure accordingly. I recommend keeping a living document that you revisit and update regularly. Over time, this document can naturally develop into your Dom/sub contract.
I highly recommend avoiding harsh punishments during the initial phase. Honestly, you’re both likely to fumble a bit. You’re trying on new roles, habits, and ways of relating to each other—and that takes time and practice. Be patient. Offer grace.
For submissives, the emotional toll of a misstep can be immense. These are often high-achieving, self-critical people who take pride in their performance—so even small mistakes can trigger guilt, shame, or a sense of failure.
That’s why correction doesn’t require punishment so much as atonement—a way for them to repair trust and reset their sense of purpose. The psychological weight of disappointing their Dom is often heavier than any punishment you could issue.
Here’s how I handle correction:
If the issue is behavioral (not just a one-off mistake), then a more structured consequence or punishment may be needed—but always with the goal of growth, not shame.
It’s common for people to equate discipline solely with punishment. In reality, discipline is far broader. The simplest way to distinguish the two is this:
Think of it like carpentry: A hammer is one tool a carpenter might use, but we don’t mistake the hammer for the entire craft. In the same way, punishment is simply one tool within the broader practice of discipline.
And it’s far from the only one.
Rewards, praise, correction, repetition, accountability, and reinforcement can all be used to shape behavior. Punishment can be a valid and effective part of a dynamic, but it isn’t essential for discipline to exist.
In fact, the more effectively a Dominant structures the dynamic around the submissive’s internal motivations, the less external motivation may be necessary. Ideally, the submissive follows the code of conduct not simply to earn a reward or avoid a punishment, but because fulfilling their role, meeting the Dominant’s expectations, and contributing to the dynamic are intrinsically meaningful to them.
At that point, discipline becomes less about enforcing behavior and more about cultivating it.
Before deciding that your submissive needs to be punished, examine the structure you created and your own role in maintaining it.
Consider the following:
Yes, the submissive is responsible for following the rules they’ve agreed to. But the Dominant is responsible for creating and maintaining a structure that actually works.
Sometimes the submissive’s behavior needs correction. Other times, the structure does.
Know the difference.
In a D/s dynamic, punishment is a method of correcting a submissive’s behavior when they violate mutually agreed-upon rules established within the dynamic. When a submissive breaks a rule, the Dominant may use a punishment—something the submissive dislikes but that remains within their agreed-upon limits—to correct the behavior and discourage future transgressions.
To recap, the core principles of punishment are:
Punishment should never be an excuse for losing control. If anything, administering it requires more control from the Dominant.
I’ve covered punishments in greater detail in my BDSM Punishments for Submissives guide.
In a D/s dynamic, a reward is a method of reinforcing a submissive’s behavior when they excel at following the mutually agreed-upon rules of the dynamic. When a submissive follows a rule—and especially when they go above and beyond in their service—the Dominant can use a reward, ideally something the submissive genuinely enjoys, to reinforce that behavior, encourage obedience, and build confidence.
I cover rewards in greater detail, with examples, in BDSM Rewards for Submissives. For now, here are the key principles to remember:
One of the simplest and most effective rewards is verbal praise.
Performance-based praise reinforces specific behaviors: You did that well. I’m proud of how you handled that. I appreciate the effort you put into serving me.
But I also encourage intimacy-deepening praise—praise that celebrates who they are, not merely what they did. This helps your submissive feel seen, cherished, and valued for who they are within the dynamic rather than believing that your approval depends entirely on their performance.
Reward the behaviors you want repeated, but don’t forget to appreciate the person behind them.
Growing up in a performance-based culture, you may have experienced one of two scenarios:
Either way, you learned a simple formula: doing = being loved.
That belief can become so deeply ingrained that receiving any amount of praise feels intense. In fact, praise kinks can be just as edgy, vulnerable, and emotionally charged as degradation kinks—sometimes even more.
A common misconception is that praise is more “vanilla” than degradation—that it’s softer, safer, or less intense. But for many people, praise can actually be scarier than being degraded.
Why? Because real, heart-piercing praise can bypass our defenses.
Degradation might reinforce what someone already secretly believes about themselves—“I’m not enough,” “I’m bad,” and so on. It may be painful, but it’s familiar.
Praise, on the other hand, can touch the parts of a person that they desperately want to believe are true but don’t fully trust yet.
Being told, “You’re so powerful,” or “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful when they surrender,” or “I desire you deeply” can unravel someone emotionally. It’s deeply intimate and exposing. Praise asks you to receive love, worth, and recognition without deflecting—and that can be incredibly edgy territory.
So, no, praise isn’t just cuddly and affirming. When used well, it can be potent erotic medicine—confronting shame, inviting expansion, and stripping away self-doubt. That’s an intense energy, one that can be as arousing as it is transformative.
I believe there’s something deeper beneath our desire for recognition. Many of us walk around with a seemingly endless void we’re trying to fill—with more praise, more affirmation, more validation. We keep performing, but it never feels like enough. We never feel like enough.
What we truly long for isn’t just acknowledgment of what we do, but to be seen for who we are and how our presence makes a difference in the world.
The world of power exchange isn’t exempt from this. As a Dominant or submissive, it’s easy to fall into performance. Submissives may perform obedience. Dominants may perform confidence or control. But performance—even when it looks hot on the surface—creates distance.
True intimacy happens when both people feel safe enough to stop performing—to be vulnerable, playful, messy, real. That’s when sex and kink become more than ways to feel good. They become opportunities to communicate something far deeper:
I see you. Not just what you do for me. Not just the role you play. You.
And perhaps that’s what we’re ultimately seeking through praise: recognition of our existential belonging.
What need are they trying to fulfill through bratty behavior?
When you were a child and acted out or misbehaved, were you ever called a brat? Think back to what might have motivated that behavior.
Maybe you were trying to get your parents’ attention directed toward something—the rules you thought were bullshit, the boundaries you weren’t sure about and wanted to test, or simply yourself because you wanted their undivided attention. Even being reprimanded could provide evidence that someone was paying attention to what you did and cared enough to respond.
Submissive brats can operate in a similar way. If the brat “behaves badly” but is ultimately overcome and corrected by their Dom, the Dom’s persistence can become hot evidence of their focused desire and attention. The resulting correction can reaffirm that the submissive is being seen—that their behavior matters, their actions are being noticed, and someone cares enough to hold them accountable.
So don’t assume a submissive brats simply because they don’t know how to behave. Look beneath the behavior and ask what they’re actually seeking. For some brats, what they crave is attention and the experience of your love and care expressed through behavior correction.
Don’t just react to the bratty behavior. Understand what makes the behavior rewarding for them.
Humans are meaning-making machines. We build identities as the main characters in our own stories. As such, we love creating symbols, tokens, and objects that remind us of—and reinforce—the stories we tell ourselves.
BDSM, particularly power exchange, is ultimately a story. In reality, we can't actually own another person. But we can have fun creating a fantasy in which we can.
To be clear, I don't mean to downplay how serious these dynamics can become or how all-encompassing, visceral, real, and meaningful they can feel. They can carry tremendous psychological weight.
In that sense, a collar means everything to the people within the dynamic. But to anyone outside your head, your relationship, or the shared culture of the BDSM community, that same symbol may mean nothing at all. Those people don't share your story.
This points to two important truths about collars.
First, if you want to avoid heartbreak and misunderstanding, be crystal clear about what the collar represents to each of you. As a Dom, don't hand out collars like they're candy if they carry significant meaning to the other person. As a sub, don't ask for a collar if the other person doesn't share your level of commitment.
Second, don't assume or dictate what someone else's collar means if you're outside their dynamic. While you're the main character in your own story, you're an NPC in theirs. The best thing you can do is ask what their collar means to them.
Although society may place a lot of stigma on ending a relationship because of sexual incompatibility, doing so isn’t wrong, and you shouldn’t be ashamed for considering it. You have needs, and you’re responsible for tending to those needs. Sometimes, that may mean leaving a relationship.
Just because a relationship ends doesn’t mean you can’t still care for, love, or even be friends with that person. One incompatibility doesn’t mean the entire relationship was a mistake or a disaster. A relationship can be beautiful, meaningful, and worthwhile without lasting forever.
Even couples who have spent a beautiful life together may eventually encounter irreconcilable differences. Sometimes, loving someone and recognizing that you’re no longer compatible can both be true at the same time.
And that’s okay.
That’s right.
Let your greatest fear become reality… and see that you’re okay.
This is probably one of the most important practices of them all. Every time I let a partner go, for whatever reason, I remind myself that I am okay. I was okay before they came into my life. I was okay while they were in it. I will be okay when they are gone.
The more you practice this, the more you realize just how beautiful letting someone go can be. Often, you both grow, find other wonderful people to share your lives with, and may even remain companions in some capacity. Although we’re no longer married, my ex-wife is still a friend of mine.
There’s a Buddhist concept known as non-attachment, which might be better understood as letting go. If you grasp a flower too tightly, you damage the very thing whose beauty you’re trying to preserve. Instead, you let the flower be. You appreciate its beauty for what it is while recognizing that, like everything else, it will one day change.
Relationships are much the same. If you grasp at your partner and try to control or lock them down, you can suffocate the very qualities that make them who they are. You suffocate what makes them beautiful. You suffocate what you love.
Instead, let your partner be. Appreciate them for who they are while recognizing that they may one day change, choose a different path, or leave the relationship.
That’s okay.
You’ll be okay.
The interesting thing about laying these lessons out in a sequence is that you may believe that once you reach the end, you’re finished. You’ve thoroughly addressed each lesson, mastered it to its fullest, and will never need to revisit the process again.
That…is not how life works.
The first time you go through this process, you’re probably going to address many of these lessons with duct-tape solutions—good enough to get you to the next one, but nowhere near the depth of work ultimately required.
At some point in your life, you’ll have to take 100% responsibility for all the parts you overlooked, forgot about, or simply didn’t want to confront and begin the process anew. Only this time, you’ll be more skilled, wiser, and better equipped to go deeper.
A book I enjoy, Already Free: Buddhism Meets Psychotherapy on the Path of Liberation by Bruce Tift, uses the analogy of a spiral staircase: We go around and around, seemingly encountering the same territory, yet each revolution brings us to a different level. We may never completely eliminate our core vulnerabilities. We may revisit the same issues again and again, but hopefully each time with greater skill, awareness, and insight.
You will continue encountering versions of the same problems until you learn how to address them more fully, both internally and externally. And even then, life will give you something new to work on.
Becoming a Dom—a master of yourself—requires this.
There is no final form. No moment when you’ve learned everything, healed everything, mastered everything, and finally become the perfect Dominant.
There is only the next revolution of the staircase.
So befriend the process.
If you made it through all 100 lessons, first: thank you.
Thank you for your time, your attention, and most importantly, your effort.
Reading an article this long requires something increasingly rare: the willingness to slow down, pay attention, wrestle with ideas, and keep going. That takes dedication.
And you're going to need that same dedication if you want to become a Dom.
Because if there's one lesson beneath all the others in this article, it's that this journey was never really about learning how to master someone else.
It wasn't about collecting sexy bedroom tricks, memorizing commands, learning how to tie knots, swinging a flogger, or figuring out exactly what to say at the right moment.
Those are skills. Useful ones, certainly.
But Dominance asks something much bigger of you.
It asks you to become someone capable of leading.
That means learning to lead yourself before expecting anyone else to follow. Taking responsibility for your life. Developing confidence and competence. Becoming aware of your emotions without being ruled by them. Learning to communicate clearly, wield power responsibly, create safety, make difficult decisions, repair your mistakes, pursue meaningful goals, and help the people who choose to follow you become more fully themselves.
In other words, becoming a Dom doesn't stop when you leave the bedroom.
It's about becoming a leader in every area of your life.
And like lesson #100 says, there is no point where you finally arrive and declare yourself finished. There will always be another skill to develop, another weakness to confront, another relationship to navigate, another mistake to learn from, and another version of yourself waiting to be built.
I've spent 100 articles sharing that journey, and somehow I feel like we're only getting started.
So thank you for taking this journey with me—for reading, questioning, practicing, experimenting, failing, learning, and hopefully growing along the way.
Here's to the first 100 lessons, the next 100 articles, and the people we'll become while exploring them.
Cheers, friends.

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