His profile description, however, is what truly sparked my interest. He described in detail the kind of relationship he was seeking, and what his interests, intentions and limits were. He wanted to connect with a FemDomme (female dominant) for kinky play where he would be at the mercy of her desires. He was experienced, came with references, and was happy to take things slow. I was interested in all of that. Swipe right. 

I responded to his message and we chatted for a couple days before making plans to meet. Our first meeting would not be the typical “drinks at a bar”, though. And no, we weren’t meeting to engage in kink play either. This meeting was a safety check. 

Engaging in kinky play is generally safe when performed by consenting, informed partners. But because of the inherent risks involved in doing things that can only be whispered about in polite company — particularly for women – vetting new partners is life-and-death important.

The following week, we met at a bar a couple of miles from my house — gimp, my husband and me. No, this wasn’t a surprise for anyone. My husband and I are consensually non-monogamous, and although we date other people separately, we sometimes meet them for the first time together. This meeting arrangement had been discussed, and agreed upon, over text as part of the vetting process. For all three of us, it was an opportunity to sit across a table, look each other in the eye and know for sure we were all sane and consenting. 

I was sitting at the back of the bar with my hand in my husband’s lap when gimp walked in. He was a tall sheepdog of a man, newsboy cap, glasses, plaid flannel shirt, pale blue eyes and a ginger mustache. He looked like a lumberjack. I made no attempt to hide my gaze as I sized him up. He crossed the empty room to join us and we ordered a round of drinks. Pleasantries were exchanged. Then small talk. Then questions.  At the end of the first round, hubby and I exchanged glances and I squeezed his hand under the table to confirm. We both felt comfortable enough with our new friend to leave me alone with him to finish the kinky part of our negotiation. Hubby rose to leave, and I raised a hand to order dessert.

I produced a sheet of paper with a list of 20 or so questions and asked each one. What BDSM activities was he drawn to and which ones was he interested in trying with me? Why did he like the things he liked? Which activities were a hard no? What was his stance on sex during play?

I observed him as he gave his answers. He was polite and easy to talk to. He appeared a little nervous at first, but his demeanor was open and earnest as he considered and answered each question. I answered each in return as well. 

We agreed on a foot worship scene as the most satisfying first experience for us to try together. I drew the line at no sex or sexual contact for our first scene and he agreed. This way we could gauge our compatibility for play without any added variables.  

Finally, I asked one last question. 

“Can I smell you?” I leaned across the table as I spoke, watching his face. I’m sensitive to scent, and I needed to know if his would repel me or draw me in. 

“Yes, Goddess,” he whispered. I stood from my seat and walked over to his side of the table. I looked into his eyes, this time silently seeking permission. He nodded, as I slowly drew his collar to the side and pressed my nose into his neck. I felt him tremble slightly beneath my fingers and smiled as I inhaled. 

His skin was fresh and his scent registered as “new” and “neutral” to me. I can work with this. I thought to myself. It was the tremble, though, that let me know I was going to enjoy myself. 

To be continued…