I’m a woman in my 60’s, a proud BBW ( thats a Big beautiful woman) , a mother, grandmother, midwestern transplant to the northeast, and yes, a Domme.
It began in the summer of 2008 when I was in my 40’s. I was still adjusting to some major life changes and dealing with the pain of my divorce. My ex had been carrying on an affair with our neighbor, my former best friend in fact, and I was feeling emotions ranging from anger to insecurity and everything in between. With the exception of work and a few friends, I was alone, though a relationship wasn’t something I was considering at the time. I enjoy my physical independence and will never change that, but emotional isolation can be difficult.
My career then, and to this day, involves a lot of field personnel spread out over a large area. I won’t get into what kind of work that is, but as the communications director, I am either their savior or the bane of their existence. I know where they are and can get them what they need, but I can also send them somewhere far away on little sleep with no time to eat. As the one typically delivering that news, I wasn’t always popular.
In the late spring/early summer of 2008 I had to go to one of our field locations for some training. I was sure that I’d be treated professionally, just as I was certain they didn’t want me there. That was the day I met him. For the purposes of sharing my story, let’s call him Shawn.
Shawn had a reputation for being very good at his job, but had little patience for people who weren’t. He was also fairly new, yet spoke up freely when he felt the need to do so. The best word I could use to describe him is uncompromising. Among his peers he was considered to be excellent. Those for whom he had little respect preferred the term arrogant. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
What I met was not what anyone described. He was playful, almost flirtatious, and respectful to me personally in a way I hadn’t been prepared for. Looking back, I think this is where it truly began.
Yes, he had a need to be perfect, excel, seek approval, be respected. That should have told me something back then, but I didn’t know the truth and didn’t have the experience to recognize it. Shawn harbored a secret.
Shawn was a sub.
Anyone who knows him wouldn’t believe that. Men respect him and seek his counsel and advice. He can walk into the most chaotic situations and take over calmly, putting everyone at ease inside two sentences. It took me years to learn how much of that is the hallmark of a true submissive.
It began slowly. Text messages. Phone calls. We didn’t work in the same location, so we got to know each other very well remotely. When he finally opened up, my first reaction was disbelief.
I thought “there is NO way a man exists solely to obey, serve, and please a woman.” But we kept talking. I thought he was lying when he said he was physically attracted to me as a BBW, but we kept talking. The more he opened up, the more incredulous I was.
After one long night shift for both of us, I decided to test all of it. I don’t know exactly what made me do it, but I’m forever grateful that I did.
I went home and put my spare house key on the seat of my car, went in, took a shower, got in bed, and sent him a text. He was retrieve the key, let himself in, lock the door, strip in the living room, crawl into my bedroom and under the sheets from the foot of the bed. At that point, he was to gently serve me until I was done with him. When I kicked him out, he was to leave without a word.
Maybe I was crazy, tired, emotional, I don’t know. All I know is that it’s one of my fondest memories. If I was tired after that shift, I knew he was exhausted. There was no way he’d show up, right?
How wrong I was.
First, someone had trained this boy VERY well. Every mistake men usually make doing ‘that’?He didn’t. I also had types of orgasms I didn’t even know I could have, not to mention how long they can last. When I reached the point of pure exhaustion, I threw him out, guilt free.
To my surprise, he obeyed. He didn’t push for anything else. Didn’t ask for a release of his own. He didn’t linger, but didn’t rush either. Nothing. He softly kissed my thigh respectfully, pressed his cheek against my bare skin, and said thank you.
I used him, very selfishly, and he thanked me. I fell back to sleep in a state of contented disbelief.
He left that job shortly after that, but he’s been my sub since. I won’t lie. There’s been a steep learning curve with some ups and downs. An experienced sub with a new Domme is tricky. His limits were far beyond mine for a long time, but we’ve pushed forward. Here’s what I’ve learned.
A real sub is rare. They aren’t the ones who think it’s all about outfits, abuse, yelling, or outlandish role playing that caters to the stereotypes. Those are the ones who will throw a temper tantrum online if you don’t tell them what you’ll do to them inside of one email. They don’t get it and probably never will. A real sub? At their core is a conflict. They were likely reared by a very controlling, sometimes abusive woman, and they survived it by learning “this is love. This is affection.” If they were simultaneously taught by a solid male role model to respect women, that sealed the deal. I know now that I got lucky in finding my first and only sub.
That conflict is my playground, and how I control him. No matter how well he does or how talented he is, it’ll never be good enough. It can’t be. If it is, he’ll need a new challenge. If I do something he enjoys physically, my words are honest, direct, seemingly cruel. If I do something to him that may need a safeword, he hears how much I’m enjoying it, watching him struggle to please me. That confiict is always there for him, and at his core it’s what he interprets as affection.
What do I get in return?
A loyalty I didn’t know existed. I know where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s talking to every minute of the day. I have a best friend that surpasses all definitions of the word. He’ll be brutally honest when it’s called for, and I trust him more than my doctors with medical questions. Particularly when it comes to my health, he doesn’t sugar coat it when asked, and he’s never been wrong. Not once. Ever.
At his core, I also learned he could be a slut if not properly guided. It’s a self worth thing and a defense mechanism that took some time to understand. True subs are always looking for which woman in the room needs to be kept happy, and as a sexually motivated sub, that translates accordingly. I don’t want to stop that. I want to control it. Use it to my advantage. I know if edged properly I can get him to do any of a thousand things, on camera, which only adds to my control over him. Then, in quiet moments, when I’m teasing him and telling him what I think of it, I’ll remind him that’s why he’ll always belong to me. He should be afraid of me and keep trying, because I could ruin him. I smile when i trease him and say that softly.
From there you can accomplish anything. Need an errand run for you? No problem. Need something delivered? No problem.
It really only takes the well timed occasional word or text message and an hour or two a week of activities I enjoy to keep him loyal and in his place. As an example, my last message to him today was “try not to fuck anyone without my permission today. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself.”
Where do I still need to grow? My verbal game always needs improving. Slow. Patient. Brutally honest. I like to think of is as the tone of a caring mother with the words of a sadistic ex girlfriend. Again, it comes back to conflict. My punishments also need to be more frequent and more impactful. I wasn’t raised like that, and it’s difficult for me to find ways and reasons to punish someone who does everything I command. Most importantly though would be the constant battle to not abuse my authority. My daughter dated an abusive boyfriend a long time ago, and I knew I was one prolonged teasing session away from having Shawn make the problem disappear. I’ve also had the occasional fantasy of him visiting my former best friend as well. However, I don’t want to lose a well trained sub over a moments anger.
Lastly, I do wish there were groups where people could share this openly. I’ve tried munches in our area. It’s always the same clique with a lot of gatekeeping. Sometimes?
Sometimes I just want to enjoy a cup of coffee sitting in my car with a female friend while he’s tied up and blindfolded in the back seat wearing a woman’s bikini, just because I can. Being open about who and what we are is exciting, and very difficult to accomplish with others who can be trusted
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Eighteen years ago I ordered a man to do what I though was unthinkable. Now, in my sixties, I know I can do things a thousand times worse with him, and he’ll always thank me, always come back, and always belong to me.
I wouldn’t trade a single second of it for anything. I wish I learned this in my twenties, though I do wonder if I’d appreciate it as much if I did. Either way, I would urge every woman at any age to find a sub. Nothing will ever be the same.
A Grandmother says every women in their 20’s should get a sub
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