certainly not skinny jeans and boots.
For Max, who I was was important too, but the fact that I was prepared – from the very start – to do as he told me was also very important. Like I said, chalk and cheese.
I also realised that I had quite liked the rules and formality of Max’s approach as a Dom. It had been great training for someone with no experience of submission, and I wondered how I would deal with someone new who seemed to have a much more relaxed approach. When we had finished eating Alex gathered up the debris from our lunch, dropped it in the bin and then offered me his arm.
‘So,’ he said, as we set off along the promenade, ‘are you going to tell me about Max?’
‘You first,’ I said.
‘What do you want to know about me?’
‘Everything,’ I said.
‘Okay, but you realise I’m expecting this to be reciprocal?’
I nodded.
‘Okay. Do you fancy an ice cream?’ he said, as we passed a brightly painted booth. ‘How about we have a ninety-nine?’
I laughed. An ice-cream cone with a chocolate flake in it was hardly part of the lunch with a sophisticated Dom-about-town that I had envisaged. ‘Come on,’ Alex said, taking my hand and guiding me over to the window. ‘It’s been years since I’ve had one.’ He glanced into the kiosk. ‘Oh my God, look, they’ve got sprinkles!’ he said, turning round and grinning at me.
How I could I possibly resist?
‘So,’ he said, as we walked away with a huge ice cream each, complete with flakes and enough hundreds and thousands to sink a battleship. ‘BDSM. I was probably in my mid-twenties when I started to fantasise about tying women up and doing all sorts of weird and wonderful things to them while they were helpless. I’d had the thoughts before, but that was when I first realised that I wanted to turn it into a reality.’ Before he went into any more detail Alex glanced at me as if to gauge my reaction.
I’d been there. I knew how hard it was to voice those secret desires that don’t just excite you, but also make you feel ashamed of what you’re thinking and feeling and wanting, and make you anxious about the way your mind works. We all have different values and ideas about sexual behaviour, but I think most of us would concede that what constitutes normal when it comes to foreplay doesn’t usually involve tying up your sexual partner or putting them over your knee and spanking them.
‘Unsurprisingly, I kept the fantasies to myself,’ he said. ‘I’d just got engaged to my girlfriend, Lucy, and had booked us a weekend away to celebrate. There was a four-poster bed in our room and all I could think about was how much I’d like to tie her to it, spreadeagled, blindfolded. We met first of all when we were at university but hadn’t really got together until a couple of years later when some friends set us up. Lucy was fabulous, but sex really wasn’t her big thing. I mean, she liked it, and I’m sure if I’d asked her she would have played along, but at the time I felt it was not the sort of thing you did with your wife-to-be.’ Alex laughed. ‘I know times have changed, but neither of us were that adventurous back then. And I wanted her not just to put up with it but enjoy it too – for me that was what it was about. Mutual enjoyment, fun, some experimenting.
‘I used to travel a lot even then; I’d seen all sorts of magazines and been to a couple of clubs with guys from work, but at the time it really never occurred to me that there were nice women out there who felt the same way as I did and wanted to be on the receiving end.’
Alex smiled. ‘I like the idea of being able to touch and play unhindered, but –’ He paused. ‘What I wanted was for the woman I was with to enjoy it too, to be complicit in the game. That was never going to happen with Lucy, so it became this dark secret, this need that I thought about and worked fantasies around but never put into practice. It wasn’t like I wanted to torture anyone though,’ he said quickly, and then he grinned when he saw that I hadn’t flinched or run away screaming. ‘Okay, well, maybe torture them just a little bit, maybe nipple clamps and some other toys and a riding crop, things like that, but no real pain. For me, it’s not so much about inflicting pain as about having the power of being in control, of being able to take my time and set the agenda, of having someone surrender totally to me. Anyway, despite it figuring in a lot of my fantasies, I also came to the conclusion that I probably shouldn’t mention it to anyone in case I got arrested.’
I couldn’t help but laugh. Alex was right; suggest this and most women would run a mile, but I’m not most women, nor am I alone in what I feel or how I enjoy my sexual encounters. I genuinely love and enjoy what Alex was describing as long as what is done is consensual and shared with someone I like and respect and above all feel safe with and trust. Alex, meanwhile, was still speaking.
‘Four years ago I split up with Lucy and I met a woman on a vanilla dating site who was into bondage. I didn’t know that when we first met. In fact, I’m not even sure now how we got onto the subject – I think maybe we’d both had a glass or two of wine and both of us had been itching to try it and to find someone who wasn’t shocked. Anyway, we did talk about it and after that we played a little bit. She liked me to tie her to the bed, and that was about all, to be honest, but from the very first moment I realised just how much it excited me. It felt so right. We talked a lot and went looking at all sorts of websites together. The biggest relief and realisation was that I wasn’t alone in liking that kind of thing and that there were women out there, like her and you, who wanted to play too. It was something I knew I wanted to explore further.’
‘So what happened?’
‘I hadn’t long split up with my wife and at that point neither of us were looking for anything serious. We saw each other for a few months but gradually drifted apart. And then I dated on and off, went on some vanilla sites and very gently broached it with other women. Some were keen, some weren’t – and I slowly realised that actually it was something I wanted to be able to share and talk openly about with my partner, not pussyfoot around, worried that they’d call the police or run a mile.’
‘Which is why we’re here,’ I said.
He nodded.
‘So you were on the site for quite a while?’
‘Yes, although you were the first person I ever rang on the BDSM website. I emailed a couple of others and, as you were taken,’ he said with a grin, ‘I met a few of them, but they weren’t right and frankly I’d rather be on my own than in the wrong relationship.’
‘Me too. So have you been on your own since we last spoke?’
‘On and off. I’ve had a few dates, but nothing that was going anywhere.’
‘And is that what you’re looking for? Something that is going somewhere?’
Alex nodded. ‘In an ideal world, but I’m in no hurry, so –’ he smiled, ‘no pressure.’
Being with someone new and possibly even greener than me wasn’t something I had factored into my search for a Dom. I’d liked Max initially because it felt like he knew what he was doing. As if reading my mind, Alex said: ‘I’ve just never been with someone who I’ve known is submissive right from the start.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘You do understand that being a submissive doesn’t mean that I’m either stupid or a doormat, don’t you?’
‘I never assumed that for a moment,’ he said, holding his hands – and ice cream – up.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Most of the subs I’ve met are really strong women. They’re just looking for a stronger man, someone who can understand them. Someone who can handle them.’
‘In both senses of the word?’
‘In an ideal world,’ I said, echoing his comment of a few moments earlier.
It was tricky talking hard-core sex with a man who had a sprinkle of hundreds and thousands on his nose. I reached out to wipe them off and