I had to keep pausing to deeply and genuinely appreciate specific moments, capturing mental snapshots of this warrior, an inked up Marine, father, and hard-working man blindfolded and restrained to my bed by delicate metal chains attached to dainty fur-lined leather cuffs. His hands flexing, every so often pulling gently against the restraints, testing them, trying to touch me when he could feel me within reach.
I’d never felt more powerful, more like a Goddess – his Diosa. Watching this masculine human writhe and undulate under my complete control. To say that I found it sexy sounds trivial and shallow. It was… life changing. Not only did I want to freeze time and capture the beauty and freedom I was admiring in him, but I wanted to capture what I felt and looked like as well.
I distinctly remember straddling him as he was on his belly, looking down at my breasts that were accidentally exposed when I kneeled on my dress and really thinking to myself, “Wow, I look fucking hot. Look at me!” I could feel myself beaming because while M couldn’t see me, Tristan, who was sitting on the couch behind me sure could.
Instead of pulling the dress back up, it gave me more of a thrill to leave it down. To be mostly naked while he couldn’t see gave me an extra sense of power, of superiority.
I was able to find a peaceful, mindful space where all that existed was how much pressure I was applying to the Wartenberg wheel against his exposed skin. Watching how he reacted to my different manipulations. Bare fingers, feather duster, aforementioned spikey wheel. All causing him to squirm, tense, sigh or groan.
I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t feel like a sadist. I wanted to help him achieve a place of safety, of mindfulness. A place where only we existed. The three of us, in this room. Safe. I wanted to take care of him. Make him feel what I wanted him to feel. And in my experience, a bit of mild discomfort sometimes assists with that. It helps cut through the noise and the negative mental static.
I felt like it came naturally, like I knew what I was doing. Like I’d been doing it all along. I felt capable, strong, in tune with what he needed. It wasn’t lost on me how lucky I was to have had years of experience, not with Domming, but with D/s. I’ve been Tristan’s submissive for eight years. I was able to take everything I’d learned from being a submissive and watching Tristan grow as a Dominant and easily roll with what felt good to me.
I was soothed and empowered by the fact that my partner, my Dom, was watching me from close by. But at no point was I doing anything because he was watching. I felt free to do what I wanted, what felt right to me. I felt encouraged to find my own Dom/Top voice and touch, and I did. I slid into a comfortable groove that allowed me to pour love and lust into this man who was exactly where he wanted to be.
His sighs, moans and groans were turning me on fiercely, and when I turned him over and reattached his cuffs, it was very apparent that I wasn’t the only one aroused.
Admittedly, it became difficult for me to find the mindful, meditative place once I saw the physical effect I was having on him. To know my touch and presence turned him on so intensely was incredibly arousing, flattering and reaffirming. There was no hiding how he was feeling.
I kept getting lost in the stunning dichotomy of it all. This strong man at my mercy. It was so healing and therapeutic for me to be so ultimately trusted, so ultimately in control and trusting myself.
I didn’t question myself at any point, I didn’t hesitate. I did look to my partner on the couch a couple times for reassurance that we were okay, and a quick nod of his head assured me we were. I was able to trust in that and carry on seamlessly.
I checked in frequently with M, it was his first time being restrained, and I was aware that it could be triggering, but he stayed present, confirming he was okay and was where he wanted to be.
Tristan joined us on the bed to touch me, tease me, pinch my nipples while I stroked his hard-on and M’s. M immediately leaking all over my hand.
Not being able to contain myself any further with him so obviously aroused, I transitioned to some delicious and sensual oral sex and eventually rode him until he climaxed.
As soon as he came, I gently removed his blindfold and his restraints, kissing his wrists as I went, soothing him, assuring him we were here, he was safe. Letting him catch his breath and process what had just happened. He had such a gorgeous, genuine smile on his face. He looked free. Happy. Loved.
I saw a transformation in a human being that I’ve never gotten to witness before. He gave me a gift that night, he let me explore a part of myself that I’d never dreamed of. And he gave me the gift of his submission, which I’d never received. I was overwhelmed with gratitude towards them both, for not only allowing me to experience this life-affirming act, but encouraging me and exploring it with me, holding my hand at every step.
I came away from the experience with an incredible sense of confidence and increased self-worth that I am struggling to parse. But every thread I pull at is sexy and positive and drenched in love. I am La Diosa. Hear me purr.
Nikki is a photographer, writer, and general creator of things. She writes about mental health, sex, and relationships.