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  • Age:
  • 33
  • Ethnic:
  • Turkish
  • Eyes:
  • I’ve got brilliant hazel green eyes
  • Hair color:
  • Blond
  • My favourite music:
  • Jazz


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I wanted to be dominated. what now?!

When we stopped at the bottom, he put his arms around me and hugged tightly, nuzzling his lips into my neck. Suddenly, my vision blurred in a flash of blinding pain as I felt his teeth sink into my right shoulder. I had experienced my share of pain over the years — a broken arm, a split chin — but not like this.

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Never intentionally. As we had wrapped our third date earlier that night, he had asked if he could mark my foray into B. After unclenching his jaw, he kissed me on the cheek and said good night. Then he was gone.

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I walked through the turnstile in a daze, only faintly aware of the people around me. My skin pulsed. I arrived at the subway platform drunk on endorphins, running my fingers under my coat to feel the tiny grooves in my shoulder his bite had left. Only later would I realize he had asked if I was right-handed so he could bite where my handbag would rest — the pain reminding me of him. I stared at the blinking cursor. If I wanted to back out, now was the time. I was still recovering from the demise of my relationship with a journalist who broke up with me after I told him about my struggles with alcohol and family issues.

Every day we would text each other a single photo from our oddball work lives: a Nascar race in Charlotte; a tricycle factory in Queens.

I’m getting resentful.

Crying at a truck stop in Duluth. It was a tough time. My father was hospitalized and dying. We went through the motions of building a relationship: cooking dinner and watching movies. Concealing the messy parts of myself came naturally. I had done it my whole life. AsI had learned to hide who I was to avoid upsetting my father, an Egyptian immigrant.

I told all of this to the journalist the night before I boarded a plane to Texas. It was too much for him.

How to be dominant in the bedroom even if you’re nervous/unconfident

Then my father died, and I sank into despair. When it came to dating, I felt hopeless. I thought: Why even bother? As soon as a guy finds out about my baggage, he bolts. I respect women while simultaneously enjoy dominating them.

My boyfriend is obsessed with dominating me and won’t let me get on top

I was appalled, of course, so I kept reading. I slammed shut my laptop. I was, well, turned on. Kink was something people did on HBO. I could not message him. Or could I? I was an adult. One week and dozens of s later, Dan and I agreed to meet at Prospect Park. He was handsome, mids, dark brown eyes and hair. Very fit. They had rules: no unprotected sex, no sleepovers, no kissing. I had never met a man who communicated his needs so confidently. I gulped. I was not a morning person, nor did I love the idea of being seen naked in the light of day. But Dan felt safe and in control. I liked being near him.

Any triggers. I want you to keep a journal and send it to me, too.

I wanted to be dominated. but not quite like that.

I have to know what might come up. Later, after that third date, we agreed on a set of rules and boundaries. I shared everything I was usually too afraid to tell a new partner. For the next two months, Dan texted me constantly. His aura of calm control was a revelation for me.

I wanted to be dominated. what now?!

Rather than fleeing from my emotional baggage, he welcomed it without fear or judgment. The nights before his visits I would stay up until 4 a. He would ring my doorbell as the garbage trucks blared down the street, and it was exhilarating — until it was exhausting. He would leave me with bite marks and bruises that lasted for weeks.

I wanted to be dominated. but not quite like that.

And I was not a masochist. I hated the pain but found catharsis in how undeterred Dan was by my outbursts.

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I would cry when his leather belt stung my thighs, but he never tried to curb or deny my feelings. I could sob from the physical pain and then about everything else I had been too afraid to talk about: the relationship I would never have with my father, my impulse to deaden everything with a drink.

None of it fazed him.

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Then Dan would leave and I would sit alone in my bedroom, his sweat still fresh on my skin, wanting so badly to be held. I thought he was more evolved than I, as if attachment were some sort of moral failing on my part. I stared at my phone, startled. I told Dan I needed time to think about it, and then I went on the date. My friend and I stayed out until 2 a.

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Dan had a partner to go home to, and I was on my own. Was this really what I wanted? In the end I kept coming to the same conclusion: This would never be enough. If I had worked up the courage to be forthright with him at the beginning, then I could walk away, too. I had found a strange liberation in submitting to Dan, but it was only a first step.

I wanted the domination, but I needed lazy Sundays and walks in the park, too. So I went back on OkCupid and created a new profile. Aly Tadros is a musician and writer in Brooklyn. Modern Love can be reached at modernlove nytimes.

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To read past Modern Love columns. Style I Wanted to Be Dominated. But Not Quite Like That. Man, that had hurt.

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What the hell was I getting myself into? What else? Then an old fling of mine came to town and asked me out to dinner.

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