On Being the Man Who Chokes Baby Girl

God do I love wrapping my hand around baby girl's throat.

After much thought about D/s and my attitudes over it during the past few years, I think I've come to realize that what I love about being a Dom isn't as much power as it is trust. When I wrap my hand around baby girl's throat and squeeze, I think -- if I'm as reflective as I can be -- that what turns me on is the fact that she trusts me to do whatever I choose, whatever I think to be right for her, for myself, for both of us. She trusts me enough to have willingly surrendered her right to a safe word, willingly surrendered her right to ever leave, or to ever even request to be released. She trusts me enough to have given me the right to do whatever I choose with her. On a regular basis, that includes strapping her wrists to the bed, rendering her helpless, and then choking her until, as she notes above, the last bit of air in her lungs is going out. She literally puts her life in my hands.

Yes, there's tremendous power in that. But interestingly enough, I'm not a power addict. I've never sought power in my work, though I've certainly had it given to me (on at least one occasion specifically because I didn't seek it). I've never been the type to want to be in charge of the PTA, want to be in charge of the homeowners association. I just have no interest in it.

I respect all forms of D/s relationships, but I honestly find the idea of a relationship in which I micro-managed every aspect of baby girl's life to be tiresome -- I have little or no interest in telling her what to wear, how to style her hair, how to clean the house, how to do her job, or the like. Not only do I not want that power, I'd find it annoyingly time-consuming.

Baby girl understands that my control over her is absolute. She has a wonderful job, but she knows that if I ordered her to give it up in order to focus all her attention on me, she would have no choice. She likes where we live now, and we have completely compatible goals about where we want to live in the future, but she knows that if I made a different decision, ordered her to pack up and move, she would have no choice. And yet it's rare that I exercise this control outside of the bedroom, or outside of a context at least related to our sexual relationship. When I do, it's usually because I'm overriding baby girl in what I believe to be her own interest -- you have to work out now, you have to go to the doctor now, you have to get to urgent care now, that sort of thing. Again, power exercised for its own sake holds no appeal to me.

But the trust? That's insanely erotic. Just writing about it has made me rock-hard.

And ready for baby girl.