As a Dominant, power, control, and the orchestration of intense, boundary-pushing experiences are core to my identity. It’s not just a preference—it’s a need, a deep-seated part of who I am. But what happens when the person I love, the one who owns my heart completely, steps into my world of dominance and submission? What happens when I’m faced with the paradox of wanting to dominate, hurt, and control them while simultaneously wanting to protect and cherish them?
The answer is complex and deeply personal. It’s a tightrope walk between two opposing forces: the raw, visceral nature of my BDSM needs and the profound tenderness of love.
Love and Power: The Internal Conflict
When I look at my submissive—my partner, my love—I see so much more than someone who has consented to give me their submission. I see the person I would go to war for, the one whose laughter fills my heart and whose tears I would do anything to wipe away.
But in the heat of a scene, I am not their tender lover. I am their Dominant. And they don’t just allow me to take on that role—they crave it as much as I do. They want the slap, the sting, the power, and the submission. They want me to push them, test their limits, and take them to places they cannot reach alone.
Yet, slapping the face of the person I love, even with their consent, feels like a betrayal of my instincts to protect them. It’s a collision of love and kink, and in that moment, my heart whispers, “This is the one you treasure,” while my Dominance roars, “This is what they need.”
The Complexity of Consent in Love
Consent in BDSM is sacred. When my partner asks me to be rough, to push, to punish, I know they’re giving me the most precious gift of all: their trust. They trust me not just to take them to dark, painful places but to bring them back safely.
But that knowledge doesn’t erase the emotional struggle. Slapping their face, pulling their hair, or inflicting pain—even in a consensual and pre-negotiated scene—feels like an act of violence against the person I would never harm outside this context. It’s a jarring contradiction that takes immense emotional processing.
I’ve learned that this struggle isn’t a weakness or a flaw in my Dominance. It’s the price of loving deeply while playing intensely.
Balancing Love and Dominance
Navigating this duality requires constant communication and emotional work. Here’s how I approach the balance:
1. Acknowledging My Feelings
I’ve had to accept that it’s okay to feel conflicted. Loving someone deeply doesn’t diminish my Dominance, nor does my Dominance make me love them any less. Acknowledging this duality is the first step in reconciling the two.
2. Leaning on Communication
Before and after every scene, we talk. We explore what we want, what feels good, and what might feel challenging. Hearing my partner express their desire to be dominated—even in ways I struggle with—helps me trust in the dynamic we’ve built.
3. Creating Rituals for Separation
Sometimes, it helps to create a mental divide between “Dominant” and “lover.” We use rituals to transition into scene space: specific words, clothing, or actions that help me step fully into my Dominant headspace. When the scene ends, we have rituals to reconnect as equals and lovers.
4. Honouring the Aftermath
After intense scenes, especially those that involve physical or emotional pain, aftercare becomes a space where my love shines. It’s where I hold them, soothe them, and remind them that I treasure them above all else.
Love as a Foundation for Kink
What I’ve come to realise is that my love for them doesn’t conflict with my Dominance—it strengthens it. My love is the reason I care so deeply about their needs, their desires, and their boundaries. It’s the reason I struggle, but it’s also the reason I strive to be the best Dominant I can be for them.
When I slap their face, I’m not doing it because I don’t love them. I’m doing it because I love them. Because I know it brings them catharsis, release, and pleasure. Because I trust them enough to let them guide me into these vulnerable spaces. And because they trust me enough to take them there.
The Beauty of the Struggle
The tension between love and Dominance isn’t something to be solved or eliminated—it’s something to be embraced. It’s a reminder of the depth and complexity of our relationship. It’s what makes every scene feel uniquely ours, layered with meaning and trust.
Loving someone so deeply that it challenges your instincts to dominate isn’t a weakness. It’s a testament to the power of the connection you’ve built. It’s a reminder that Dominance isn’t about being unfeeling or detached—it’s about wielding power responsibly, with care and intention.
When I strike their face, hold their throat, or make them cry, it’s not because I’ve forgotten that I love them. It’s because I’ve remembered that I do. And that makes all the difference. 🥰
