“Only the one that hurts you can make you feel better.
Only the one that inflicts the pain can take it away.“
– Madonna –

Dominance is turbulent at times especially when it comes to arranging scenes at events like CLAW. In the weeks and days leading up to the event, what seems like a robust roster of prospective play dates may whittle down or drop altogether. Depending on how a Dom/Domme operates, this can be dispiriting, disappointing, and/or a relief.

Personally, the cancelation of a scene is a mix of disappointment and relief. When I was young in my Dom Journey, a canceled scene would knock me for a loop because I took it personally. I saw it as a reflection of my inadequacy, my ineptitude. While I wasn’t angry with the prospective sub, I would come down hard on myself even when the circumstances were beyond my control.

Over time and with experience, I employed concepts of recovery into my Dominance like attraction rather than promotion (I’ll be writing about this.) and the Serenity Prayer. The latter instrumental in helping me deal with the uncertain nature of Domming. While I can control my actions, thoughts & words, I cannot control these things in others. I also cannot control time, places, and Nature. Rather than try, I accept and move forward. I have to say that this took a lot of time to learn but it has helped me immensely.

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Scènes de Non

In the days leading up to CLAW, I was in contact with a couple of men who wanted to play. One I’d been in contact with before at a previous L.A.-based CLAW incarnation, the other I’d put through my Vetting process and planned to meet with in Cleveland. I’ll refer to them simply as #1 and #2.

#1 contacted me on Recon upon my arrival at Cleveland CLAW after seeing me post my intro on the event’s socials. As it had been sometime since we last messaged, I asked him preliminary questions to regauge his interest. He responded affirmatively; however, I kept him at arm’s length because he was what I’d call a hot-and-heavy ghoster.

In the days leading up to L.A. CLAW, he seemed to be into the scene we’d planned, he was hot for action and kept up the heat. Upon arrival, we met briefly as I was volunteering at registration; he wasn’t as he’d presented online. We exchanged greetings & he left, that would be the last time I’d see him. We exchanged messages before he dropped off the radar saying he had, “some things planned.”

This was the same phrase he’d use again in Cleveland and I, armed with his history, let it go.

#2 was more involved and was a variation of #1. We’d been in contact for weeks before. He was vetted, we connected schedules, I gave my availability. When CLAW arrived, he may have; however, I never knew. I sent three messages outlining my availability for the weekend. When there was no response by the agreed-upon time, I sent the following message:

“Thank you for your interest; however, I am calling off the tentative scene tonight. As I did not receive confirmation or cancelation, I’ve reallocated my time tonight to more certain matters. Enjoy your CLAW experience this weekend &, again, thanks for your interest. Be well.“

There was a measure of disappointment in both instances; however, because I strive to keep expectation in check, they did not affect me as they’d have done in the early days. Sir calmly takes out his pen, crosses the names off the list, and moves on. Should either respond or reach out again, it’s back to the start to establish rapport though it will be harder to do so if I choose to entertain their entreaties.

No great loss.

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Une Scène Remarquable

I’ll be writing about lessons learned from CLAW but here’s one I’ll preface with: CLAW is what you make of it.

If you go with an express idea of what you want, you’ll likely make it happen. The great thing about CLAW is that it’s got something for everyone. I came with the plan to volunteer, learn & have a scene or two. By the event’s end, I’d accomplished two of three which wasn’t bad at all. As much as I’d’ve enjoyed a scene, it was not a requirement. I was almost content but growing increasingly homesick.

That was until I met Henry.

We’d connected early in the event. I was pulling my 1st shift of facilities work and was taking a break when Henry approached. A gracious young man, Henry and I chatted about our CLAW experience, where we’re from, and what we’re looking forward to. Coming from Toronto, Henry was collared and had a Sir, a great thing to hear. I asked about being his Sir’s boy and he explained to me what it meant. I listened & regarded him favorably. He appeared confident, certain & humble.

As conversations do at events like CLAW, the trajectory aimed toward kink and BDSM. I told him that I’m a Dom and specialize in impact and sensation play, that I’m a sensual sadist.

What followed turned into a brief vetting session as Henry told me about his preferences & limits. By the conversation’s conclusion, we’d made a tentative agreement to meet sometime later but would remain in contact on Recon.

We would meet on the last day of CLAW, Sunday night at 10:30PM. From our 1st meeting to the evening of, I would see Henry a few times and we’d message on the app. By then, I’d dismissed #1 and #2 completely; to be honest, I was cautious about Henry and ready to dismiss him as well if it came to it. After all, while I am a Dom, I get no pleasure from controlling one’s time…unless they want it, that is. Other than that, to each their own. I was pleasantly surprised when Henry stuck to the plan albeit a few minutes later than planned though he did notify me of his delay.

Henry came to the room and we made way to the Hotel Cleveland, the Pup in tow guiding the way. Questions about physical limitations were asked, confirmations of preferences reaffirmed. I felt a connection with this boy who was respectful & courteous from the start and sure in his needs, wants & limits; something I have found is common with experienced players. It’s also a quality I find quite sexy when it comes to prospective subs.

The Hercules playspace was located on the 3rd floor and relatively busy for the last night of CLAW. subs in various states of undress walked around, Doms were engaged in their sessions. Fisting, flogging, fucking, and points in between were on display. The air hot and thick with the musky scent of sweat and sex. Cries of passion, cries of pain & commands cracked across the plastic-sheeted floor.

I lead Henry and the Pup to a vacant St. Andrew’s Cross & began to lay out my tools: floggers, paddles, a blindfold. Henry took his place on the cross and I began the work I love.

As a Dom, there’s something beautiful about seeing someone splayed out across the floor, a table, a cross, a bed. There’s art in the moment, the subject a willing canvas, my hands & tools instruments for the sensualist & the sadist.

Running my hands over his body, I took note of his physique, surveying & sensing the sensitive areas. Noting that he enjoyed body contact, I ran my tongue up the line of his spine to his neck & wrapped my arms around him. Our play would be interspliced with interludes like this.

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“If I take you from behind, push myself into your body when you least expect it, will you try to reject it?
If I’m in charge & I treat you like a child, would you let yourself go wild?
Let my mouth go where it wants.”
– Madonna –

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The next hour-plus would be an exploration of pain, titillation, taste & touch. Flogging to various degrees, kisses, paddling, cold metal to aching flesh, grinding my Leather-clad hips into Henry’s bare ass, a little tickle torture, and more flogging. Amid his writhing & wonderful moans, I’d found the rhythm of his desire & tuned into his pleasure’s frequency. Whenever that happens, the scene becomes more than just Dom & sub, it becomes a collaboration and no one scene is the same. Though there are variations to the theme, the result is almost always similar.

Time works differently during a scene especially when I’m having fun. I am fueled by responses to my administrations & Henry was remarkably responsive. I found myself lost in the moment, not giving glance to anyone watching & there were people watching according to the Pup. Though I’d spent much of my energy in my last volunteer shift, I was reinvigorated by Henry, enough to carry out my Dominant duties. A Cheshire Cat grinned breaking out on my face, I worked my way through my tools as a finale, a sadistic sampler with Henry groaning & thanking me along the way.

The scene was done. Henry turned to me with the gaze I’ve come to love, adore even in my own Dom way. The looks when someone has reached the “floaty place”; when I see it, I recall something Michelle Pfieffer’s Catwoman says to Batman after she’s subdued him on a Gotham City rooftop, “You’re catnip to a girl like me. Handsome, dazed, and to die for.” The sentiment is the same when I see appreciation, adoration, and whatever else happens behind the glassy-eyed gaze. In that moment, I allow myself a measure of pride and proceed to help them come back.

Henry was beautiful in his bliss, his eyes half-lowered, his voice taking on a dreamlike tone. We embraced and I held him close before offering him a seat next to the cross. Kneeling in front of him, my knee planted between floggers and paddles, he began to tell me what he was experiencing. I listened and took notes while enjoying his feedback. He articulated very well the sensations he felt and what worked for him; this articulation I found extremely attractive. As I gathered my tools, Henry took the initiative and proceeded to clean off the St. Andrew’s Cross for the next players to use. Surprised, I asked him about this and he answered, “That’s what a boy does, Sir, he cleans off the equipment when Sir is done.“

If I were to describe a scene, I’d say it’s a meditation on desire. Every recent scene that I’ve engaged in has taught me how to tune into my subjects’ bandwidths, I listen to them speak and observe their bodies upon meeting, in vetting, and in-scene. These serve as infrastructure for the work that’s to come, bedrock for me to build on. The progress that’s occurred since my first scene following the pandemic is expansive. A lot can happen when one embraces one’s needs & wants, shrugging off concerns of external perception and striving to truly access one’s Authentic Self.

I found that I am authentically a Dom.

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Suivi

We exited the play space and headed to the foyer to dress. Henry in underwear and I in boots, chaps, vest, armbands, and harness. This was hardly the ideal situation to engage in more in-depth aftercare so we engaged in a debrief. Reality was seeping in and the endorphin storm had run the majority of its forecast; it was time to become Us again and return to conventional social graces.

Sometimes aftercare means giving the sub time to express oneself regarding the scene: feelings, observations, etc. It’s a time for me to tap into the softer side of my Dominance, to ask about well-being, provide tender body contact like a firm embrace, administer kisses, and obtain real eye-to-eye contact to gauge how things are going.

The energy at the moment was raucous being the last play party on the last night of CLAW and it was a slight relief to be out of what was fast-becoming a sweat box. We stepped behind the table of what used to the be clothing check station and dressed ourselves. Henry in full kit Leather, I in jeans and boots. The endorphins were running low but not low enough to keep a sustain sense of calm. After I’ve finished a scene, I find myself in a meditative state akin to a post-run high. In the afterglow, I have a sense of clarity and purpose fulfilled, a rare state when I am operating in the world outside.

Henry and I spoke about what we were feeling, what worked for him, and plans for the next time. We embraced and kissed, scant aftercare, yeah. I would’ve gladly spent more time with him to bask in the post-scene ritual; however, it being the last night, he had folx to say goodbyes to and the Pup and I had to return to our room across the public square to sleep, pack up, and head to the airport for a relatively early flight back to California.

There was a time when I would’ve been caught up in feelings whenever I departed from someone I’d shared an intense experience with. Mixtures of sadness, a little panic, resignation, traces of hope, and a healthy dose of cynicism that I’d sure never see them again because that’s how the world works. We meet, we share, we leave, we disappear, and on to the next. These days, especially after successful treatment for decades of depression, I am a little more hopeful that I will see people again. If anything, we would remain in contact through the myriad number of applications that crowd our respective mobile devices. No one’s truly gone until they’re really gone these days, a realization that’s taken several years to believe.

With Henry returning to Canada and I to Northern California, we exchanged numbers before engaging in a last embrace. In me, there was a tinge of melancholy coming from an oddly paternal place especially seeing his eyes after the hug. I didn’t see tears but there appeared to be something akin to what I was feeling. Henry had been my sub for a scene, yes, and I temporarily served as protector, provider, and guide yet there was a part of me that wanted to keep him just a moment longer. Not out of possession but out of affection, a Daddy-like concern that he would be okay. We may see one another in the coming months what with Dore Alley and Folsom Street Fair on the horizons and I’m allowing myself to look forward to it.

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En Conclusion

In the end, what started out as a period of anxious uncertainty concluded with a satisfying rendezvous borne from happenstance and shared motivations. Two birds taken by one stone, if you will. The scenes I had tentatively planned could have been great ones but I’ll never know and I choose not to dwell on them, on what may have been.

What I choose to focus on is what I see, touch, and feel: a beautiful boy in his blue-striped Leather and beneath that Leather a Dominant’s love letter written across his smooth, willing flesh. One last embrace and the promise of more if we choose to want it.

But, damn, I loved to hear him scream.