The introduction line of my KinkLife dating profile stated my needs in the simplest terms: ‘Young Woman Looking for Mister Daddy.’
I received a lot of replies, mostly from creepy abusive sounding Doms who described everything they were going to do to me and to submit to them now because I must. But one man stood out from the crowd. Baz. At forty five, twenty years older than I, he’s a distinguished man with a bit of grey in his groomed black beard and a fit yoga body. His pictures were taken in beautiful locations where he looked happy in his travels. And though he has an easy going smile, there’s a sternness about him I find appealing. He’s just moved to America, leaving his sub of five years in London.
“My Dom moved away,” I said, gazing into his warm brown eyes as I fingered my glass of wine. “His job relocated out of state. He’s got a family and all.”
“And all the complications that come with it,” he said, with a slight British accent and white tooth smile.
“Exactly.”