Whippings and Apologies

Five or six years ago, the guy I was seeing at the time decided to re-invent himself as a sexual dominant. I’m not sure which website he took the idea from (the source of way too many male fantasies these days), and he never got around to telling me what was happening, either. A few slaps on the ass in public clued me into the fact that something was going on, and a mumbled “yeah, you like that, don’t you bitch” when he tweaked my nipple in the shower one day prompted me to ask him, “what the f---...?” And that was the end of that. Apparently a good submissive will never ask awkward questions. She will just accept her Master’s will as her own.

I’m sorry, but I disagree. I disagreed with it before, I disagreed with it at the time and, having read the twenty-two short stories that comprise “Please, Sir,” I disagree with it even more now.

Dominance (and, indeed, submission) is not simply a matter of him demanding “suck my dick” and her replying “how deep shall I take it?” 


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