I recently responded to a twitter post by an international Domme who was asking readers to post up a single word that described subversively an experience of BDSM power exchange. She was collecting inspiration for her creative writing.  I instantly commented with ‘nourishment’. For the last 12 months this concept had crept into my practice and embedded itself into my psyche, so I was grateful to have reason to explore it in more depth. As a Domme, I am feeding the desire of my bottom, elongating it and enriching the passion that was already present. Reifying the internal desires that have subversively driven us to reach each other at this point in time, here, on a random page on fetlife. I have enjoyed building on this idea since I posted that comment as it is the more subversive forms of control that I have noticed, of late, really get me off. The subtlety of denial — taking and using the body of my submissive as my toy, be it for punishment, torture, mere entertainment or pleasure.  When my sub is prone in front of me, and I enter him, he becomes an extension of myself. I am using him, filling him and he is giving himself for me. The notion of taking, using, and being objectified is often at the forefront of our early understanding of BDSM, and in particular D/s relationships. As a very young Domme, I found these psychological elements difficult to grasp, after all, being a young woman in the world required a strict adherence to what I was later to learn was called the Patriarchy.  In retrospect, and with more than 20 years under my belt now, I concede that my nourishment fetish might be evidence that psychologically, I have come full circle?

Perhaps I am getting old and heading into my maternal phase? Perhaps the overt and skills based control scenes we yearn for early in our exploration have all been conquered, and I am hungry for something more psychological. Something purely bent that doesn’t require fancy outfits, organisation or equipment. As a submissive, give me an older woman in plain clothes who offers to make me tea while we discuss the depraved things she has in store for me. She is wearing her hair in a pony tail that is held with a scrunchie that somewhat clashes with the ballet flats on her feet. From this simple observation I know she is the real deal. A truly superior individual who owns her own space. She never raises her voice or tells me off,  and I am certainly never chastised for invented misdemeanours that come to premise my punishment; yet she embodies dominance. Such scenes require a level of maturity; of nuance, that only comes with decades of play. As a Domme I have a huge manners fetish. I love being begged. I love controlling my partners through their pleasure, edging them relentlessly, praising them in whispers that fall gently upon their quivering ears… “you are doing such a good job… you are such a good boy, look at you holding in all that cum for me…” Them, begging and pleading me for release. The nourishment implicit in this moment is extremely subversive, however I might decide to verbalise what I’m actually doing [i.e make explicit], by allowing them to worship my breast while I hold them very close, eternally at the edge… 

“Nourish yourself; drink from me.”

The idea/ dynamic/ role-play that underpins the concept of nourishment is one of reciprocity. But what makes it so bent? Perhaps its knowing that all you need to do to please your dominant is cum when you have permission. Perhaps the love and care given for the simple act of having an orgasm is the bent dynamic. Perhaps there is an element of age play in that final thought that is the bent dynamic. Perhaps your pleasure being treated as if it were truly something important and meaningful when you’ve grown up being forced to hide it is the bent dynamic.  Perhaps feeling loved for being horny is the bent dynamic. Perhaps paying credence to sex in the same way we pay credence to job, family, sporting achievements is the bent dynamic? Whatever you discover through this type of scene, whatever your creative mind draws upon at the point of release… that is your dynamic. As the foundation for a scene, it turns the overt into the subversive. I am replenishing that which can only be filled by human connection; that psychological void that we must endure in vanilla life. I am nourishing you, and we are thriving as one. You are enriching my Dominance with your surrender. It’s that momentary thought that conquered your control, that takes hold just as the scene is crescendoing; it sends you over, begging for permission to cum. It’s so fucking bent, but at the same time… it can be so loving and sweet, and in that moment I can feel love for a stranger.