I have an OnlyFans account. I’ve had it for years and I think the most I’ve ever made from it is $5 a month. I have accounts across multiple adult websites. I’ve made custom content for clients. Back when Skype was popular, I would even go live with clients.

So why does it feel so intimate, make me feel so vulnerable, to send my boyfriend a video of me masturbating?

For most of my life, I’ve dealt with serious self esteem and body image issues. I was raised by a woman who thought putting an eight year old girl on a strict diet was good parenting. The majority of my childhood wasn’t spent enjoying foods like I should, it was spent being told to put down my fork between every bite, only being allowed to have potato chips 10 at a time crushed in a ziplock bag, and having my snacks altered to be much different than my brother’s because I was “fat” and he wasn’t. He got celery and peanut butter, I just got celery.

While in relationships, sex was something that happened in dark rooms. Most men I was ever involved with made sure I understood that I wasn’t someone they particularly found physically attractive, but I was fun so it was okay. As long as they didn’t have to look at me while they were fucking me.

As I got older, I just developed a ‘fuck it’ mentality about my body and how others saw it. It was really good at fun things, so why not? This eventually translated to me only showing it when I wanted to and controlling the narrative. Hence, why I became a Professional Dominatrix. It helped, but my personal relationships were still fraught with problems.

I allowed myself to be treated like a doormat, I let men who were giving me shitty sex dictate how I felt about myself.

Right now, I am in a D/s relationship with my boyfriend. It’s essentially a 24/7 D/s relationship. There are only a limited number of hours each day where things have to be a little more vanilla than either of us would like, and even then and there, he will occasionally get me with a command or gesture. Which I adore.

He has seen every single inch of me. Has possessed every part of my body. We definitely have sex with the lights on. I have submitted to him in ways I never have before. And can’t imagine doing for anyone other than him.

So why does it make me feel so vulnerable to send him full body photos? And especially video of me masturbating? It’s nothing he hasn’t seen and touched a hundred times already. I’m not worried about him distributing it to others. I trust him explicitly.

Part of it is because in the beginning with most relationships, the men I was involved with told me what they knew I needed to hear. You’re beautiful. Of course I’m attracted to you. Oh, the reason I don’t show you off/announce to people who you are is because I want to keep you all to myself. Yes, I fell for all that shit and more. It’s amazing what you’ll believe when you want to be loved.

Of course my boyfriend is attracted to me, otherwise, why else would we talk constantly, spend time together, and have amazing sex? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’m Ms. Right Now?

See how much of a struggle it can be when you’ve spent most of your life being used and treated poorly?

Something he’s never done, which is quite different for me, is ask for or expect photos or video. I’ve sent anything he gets willingly. He always acknowledges getting them, tells me how much he enjoys them, and has even offered that if I don’t feel comfortable sending through messages, I could always use SnapChat where it announces if someone saves them.

Yes, it still feels vulnerable to share these things with him, but I’m more willing to try.

Last night, he sent me a photo as a tease ahead of a thirst trap he was planning to make for me. We’re both into dark romantasy, and the masked man trope is one of my favorites. One of the first videos we ever made together, he’s wearing the Ghostface mask while I’m giving him oral in a hot tub.

Now, he has the Call of Duty Ghost mask to go with his collection, and the gloves to match. My pic was him, shirtless, with the mask and gloves on. Absolutely drool worthy. I told him how turned on I was by it. He let me know that wasn’t even the full trap just a tease. I would have to wait for this morning to get my video.

He said he wanted me waking up and immediately getting wet. I loved the sound of that.

Unfortunately, there was a technology error and he lost the video while editing. When we chatted this morning before he went to work, he said i should still touch myself while thinking of the photo. I knew I had a lot to do today and that I would see him this evening for our workout, with a possible stop by my place after.

So I waited.

We didn’t make it to the gym, but he did come visit me after work. While snuggling on the couch, he teased my nipples and my pussy, detailing to me what he planned to do when he comes in the morning and slides into bed with me. Of course, I was turned on and wanted more. He knows how I am about his cock, so I got permission to rub it, but was told no oral.

That’s difficult for me to comply with, but I managed. Somehow. Mostly because he had me on the edge of gushing all over the couch and thankfully, told me to get in bed. I might not be getting to give the oral I craved, but I knew I would be able to cum and make a mess if I wanted.

He said he was going to slide into my pussy, and fuck me until I came. Then we were finished and he had to go to his place. I wanted to hold out and have him fuck me for quite some time, but it is almost impossible for me to do that. He’d barely slid into my soaking wet pussy and I was gushing all over him. Thankfully, he didn’t stop and ended up fucking me until he came as well.

As he was leaving and we were saying goodbye, I told him I would be nude when he got here in the morning. And also, that I would still make myself cum and send him a video. He smiled and said, “Good, baby girl.”

He isn’t a client. He isn’t a random person. He isn’t someone using me.

He’s someone I love. And that terrifies me. Because i know he isn’t there yet and that’s okay, we all take our time to get where we need to be.

I feel vulnerable with him because of all of that. As backwards as that may sound, it’s because of how well he treats me, I can admit I don’t want to lose him, or have him feel differently about me because of images.

And the more I share with him, the more I realize, I couldn’t. Being in a healthy relationship is wild, isn’t it?

While I know I won’t be full of confidence tomorrow, I am getting there. Being treated like a Queen, but also respectfully disrespected, helps more than I can ever express. Having a man in my life who treats me the way I deserve to be treated means the world. But more than that, that he’s willing to work on himself as much as I am working on me, while doing our best to get rid of the baggage we carry from the past together.

Within the BDSM community, there are difference ways to be a Dom/me. Some are gentle, others are more sadistic. However, one of the most gentle and caring forms of dominance is being a Daddy (or Mommy) dominant. It can be healthy and fulfilling only when it’s between consenting adults and handled with care. At its core, it’s less about control and more about leadership, safety, and responsibility.

Here’s how to be a good daddy dominant in a respectful, ethical way:

1. Center consent and communication

• Have clear, ongoing conversations about wants, limits, triggers, and expectations.

• Agree on what “Daddy” means to both of you (structure? nurturing? authority?).

• Use safe words and check-ins — consent is not a one-time thing.

2. Lead with care, not ego

A good daddy dominant is:

• Calm, steady, and emotionally regulated

• Protective rather than controlling

• Confident without being cruel

Dominance comes from trust, not fear.

3. Provide structure and consistency

Many people are drawn to this dynamic because it offers:

• Routines or rules (sleep, self-care, goals, manners, etc.)

• Clear expectations and follow-through

• Stability and reassurance

If you set rules, you are responsible for maintaining them fairly.

4. Be nurturing as well as firm

Daddy dominance usually blends:

• Guidance

• Praise and encouragement

• Accountability

• Emotional availability

Correction should never be humiliating or unsafe unless explicitly negotiated.

5. Practice excellent aftercare

After emotionally intense moments:

• Offer reassurance, affection, and grounding

• Ask how they’re feeling later — not just right after

• Adjust based on feedback

Aftercare is not optional; it’s part of dominance.

6. Know your limits and do your own work

• Don’t use the role to avoid vulnerability or accountability

• Be honest about what you can and cannot provide

• Learn about power dynamics, attachment, and trauma-informed care

A good daddy dominant is self-aware.

7. Respect autonomy

Even in a power dynamic:

• Your partner is an adult with full agency

• “No” and “stop” always override the role

• Real-life responsibilities and well-being come first

Dominance is given, not taken.

Daddy-dominant fit checklist

You’re likely well-suited if you:

• ✔️ Enjoy responsibility and leadership, not just control

• ✔️ Are naturally protective, patient, and steady

• ✔️ Can set boundaries without anger or power trips

• ✔️ Communicate clearly and listen well

• ✔️ Like nurturing, guiding, and encouraging growth

• ✔️ Can stay emotionally regulated during conflict

• ✔️ Respect autonomy even when given authority

• ✔️ Follow through consistently on rules or expectations

• ✔️ Are open to feedback and self-correction

You may struggle with the role if you:

• ❌ Want dominance mainly for ego or validation

• ❌ Get jealous, possessive, or controlling outside consent

• ❌ Avoid emotional vulnerability

• ❌ Have difficulty managing anger or frustration

• ❌ Want obedience without responsibility or care

A key truth

Daddy dominance is more work than power.
If the idea of being accountable for someone’s emotional safety feels grounding rather than exhausting, that’s a strong sign you may be a good fit for this role.

D liked the moment before everything began best—the quiet stretch where anticipation settled into her bones and the world narrowed to intention. She stood barefoot in the dim room, wearing nothing that hadn’t been chosen with care.

Not for display, but for meaning.

Daddy sat in the chair across from her, relaxed but attentive, the kind of stillness that carried authority without effort. His gaze never wandered. P stood nearby, arms crossed, observant, a steady counterweight to Daddy’s calm intensity. Between them, D felt seen from every angle.

“Kneel,” Daddy said—not sharply, not softly. Just enough.

Her body responded before her thoughts caught up. The movement was smooth, practiced, and deeply wanted. As her knees touched the floor, she felt the familiar grounding sensation spread through her chest.

This was where she belonged—not beneath Daddy, but with Daddy, in a structure they had built together. And today, Daddy invited their friend P to join.

P stepped closer, slow and deliberate. He didn’t touch her right away. His presence alone was enough to make her breath change, to remind her she was held in attention as much as in hands.

“You’re doing beautifully,” Daddy said, approval threading through his voice.

The words mattered. They always did.

D lifted her chin when prompted, eyes steady, open. Submission for her was not about disappearing—it was about offering herself fully, without armor. Daddy’s fingers brushed under her jaw, guiding rather than forcing. P’s hand settled at the small of her back, warm and grounding, anchoring her in the moment.

Time moved differently then. Touches were intentional, pauses meaningful. Every sensation was layered with trust—built over conversations, boundaries, laughter, and the kind of care that existed long before any scene began.

Daddy leaned forward slightly, close enough that she could feel his presence like gravity. “You’re safe,” he reminded her.

She nodded once, the gesture small but sincere.

What followed wasn’t about urgency or excess. It was about connection—about the quiet electricity of being wanted in exactly the way she wanted to be wanted. P murmured encouragement, Daddy guided the rhythm, and D let herself sink into the space they created together.

She wasn’t being taken.

She was being chosen.

And in that shared understanding—three adults, one moment, infinite trust—she felt more herself than anywhere else.

Daddy rose from the chair at last, unhurried, as if the room itself moved at his pace. The soft sound of his steps made D’s breath hitch; anticipation curled low and warm, spreading outward with every second he took to reach her.

P shifted behind her, closer now. His presence framed her, made her feel contained without being confined. She liked that about him: how he could offer structure simply by being there.

“Stay just like that,” Daddy said.

D obeyed, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Stillness became an act of devotion. She focused on her breathing, slow and steady, letting the awareness of her body sharpen under their attention.

Daddy circled her once, thoughtfully. His fingers brushed through her hair, not grasping, just testing the way she leaned subtly into the contact. He noticed everything—how her shoulders softened, how her spine remained straight, how her submission was an active choice rather than a collapse.

“Good,” he murmured.

The word settled into her chest like warmth.

P finally touched her then, hands firm at her hips, grounding her fully in the moment. It wasn’t possessive—it was reassuring. He leaned in just enough that she could hear his voice when he spoke, low and steady. “You’re doing exactly what we asked,” he said. “Exactly what you wanted.”

D exhaled slowly, the truth of it resonating deep inside her. Being seen so clearly—understood so precisely—was its own kind of intensity.

Daddy stopped in front of her and knelt, bringing his eyes level with hers. The shift in height felt intimate, deliberate. “Look at me,” he said again, softer this time.

She did.

His gaze held hers, steady and intent, not demanding anything more than her presence. He reached out, tracing a line along her arm, following the subtle reactions in her skin. P’s hands tightened just slightly at her hips, not restraining her—just reminding her she wasn’t alone in the feeling building between them.

Everything slowed.

Moments stretched, filled with quiet encouragement, shared breath, and the kind of closeness that came from trust carefully earned. D felt herself sinking deeper into that familiar, cherished space—where surrender felt strong, where desire felt safe, where she didn’t have to perform anything other than honesty.

Whatever came next would be guided, intentional, and mutual.

And that was exactly how she wanted it.

Daddy didn’t touch her right away. That was part of the control—knowing exactly when not to move.

The room felt tighter somehow, as if the air itself had been disciplined into stillness. D remained on her knees, muscles beginning to ache just enough to remind her she was holding the position because she was told to—and because she wanted to prove she could.

P’s hands shifted at her hips, firmer now. Not rough. Certain. His thumbs pressed in just enough to anchor her, to make it clear that if she wavered, he would feel it before she did.

“Hold,” Daddy said quietly.

The word landed heavy.

D focused inward, breath measured, thoughts narrowing. This was the edge she trusted them to walk her toward—the place where her body wanted to fidget but her mind chose stillness. Where obedience stopped being performative and became instinct.

Daddy stepped behind her. She couldn’t see him now, only sense him, and the loss of sight sharpened everything else. His voice came from close to her ear, low and deliberate. “You like being watched,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Her throat tightened. She nodded once.

“I know,” he replied.

P’s grip adjusted, one hand sliding slightly higher, unmistakably intentional. He didn’t speak, but his presence was unmistakable—solid, unyielding, a quiet reminder that she was contained on all sides. Not trapped. Held.

Daddy’s fingers brushed the back of her neck, not soothing—evaluating. She felt herself straighten further under the touch, offering more without being asked. That pleased him. She could feel it in the way his hand lingered.

“Good girl,” Daddy murmured.

The praise was soft, but it cut deep. D felt it settle low in her chest, spreading warmth through the tension she’d been carefully holding. Her submission sharpened, focused into something clean and deliberate.

They took their time with her like this—adjusting her posture by inches, correcting small things she hadn’t realized she’d let slip. Each correction wasn’t a punishment, but a reminder: they were paying attention. All of it mattered.

D sank deeper into that controlled space, where her choices were simple and meaningful. Stay. Breathe. Listen. Trust.

Whatever darkness lived there wasn’t fear—it was intensity. Purpose. The quiet certainty of being guided by hands that knew exactly what they were doing.

And she stayed right where they wanted her.

Time became something D stopped measuring.

Her knees pressed into the floor, the sensation no longer sharp but insistent, a constant reminder of how long she had been holding herself exactly as instructed. Every instinct urged her to shift, to ease the tension in her muscles—but she didn’t. She knew better. Stillness wasn’t passive here; it was work.

Daddy said nothing.

That was the hardest part.

Daddy remained behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath when he exhaled slowly. One of his hands rested firmly between her shoulder blades now, not pushing, not stroking—simply there. An anchor. A warning. If she moved, even slightly, he would know.

In front of her, P dragged fingers down her neck, her chest, her belly, and eventually, touching her clit. She gasped, as he chuckled and laid down on his back, his rock hard cock evident.

She wanted his cock in her mouth, but knew she had to wait at least a moment. She whimpered and Daddy immediately responded, “It’s okay baby girl, you are free to relax and lean forward. I know what you want.”

“Hmmm yes, Daddy thank you.”

Leaning forward, getting on all fours, she slowly took P’s cock into her mouth, one delicious inch at a time. She was so needy right now, it took all of her control to keep from sucking him down whole.

“Baby girl, stop.”

Fuck, Daddy knew where her mind went and stopped her in her tracks.

“Now get on P’s cock, we have plans for you.”

That wasn’t what she expected at all. Happily complying, she seated herself completely on P’s cock and was still.

The silence stretched. It wasn’t empty. It was weighted, deliberate, filled with awareness. D felt her thoughts narrow, everything extraneous falling away until there was only posture, breath, and the quiet heat of being watched.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer.

Daddy moved at last, slow enough that she felt the shift in the room before she heard him.

“You’re trembling,” he said calmly.

She hadn’t realized she was.

“Don’t fix it,” Daddy continued. “Let it happen.”

Her breath deepened as she obeyed, allowing the tremor to exist without trying to control it. The restraint was no longer just physical—it was internal. Holding still while her body reacted. Staying open while everything in her wanted release.

P’s hands pressed firmly on her hips, a silent reinforcement of the command. Stay.

Daddy circled again, unhurried. He let the tension build unchecked, watching how she managed it, how she surrendered not by collapsing, but by enduring. When his fingers finally touched her—lightly, briefly—it felt amplified by how long she’d been denied even that.

“Good,” he said again, quieter this time. More certain.

The word grounded her.

She stayed exactly where she was, suspended in that controlled stillness, knowing she wouldn’t be moved until they decided she had earned it.

“Not fast,” Daddy said at last. “Intentional.”

She moaned before she realized the sound came from her throat, and slowly began to ride P’s cock.

And she waited for the next instruction.

Daddy let the silence sit for a moment longer than necessary—not as a test this time, but as a way of letting the tension settle into something calmer.

Then his tone shifted.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby girl. So beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you Daddy, but we are missing a really important part…”

“Hmmm oh I know where I belong, baby girl. Lean forward and slide your knees back a bit.”

D knew what was coming, besides her.

She felt Daddy kneel behind her, pressing her even further forward onto P’s chest until she was almost lying flat, her breasts smashed against him. She looked down into P’s smiling face. Oh, he knew. They must have discussed this ahead of time.

Pressure, Daddy’s head pressing against her ass and then, he pops inside. She’s so fucking full and it’s almost too much. But not, because it’s exactly what she knew could happen if Daddy and P played with her together.

She remained still with P’s cock in her pussy, as Daddy began to slowly move in and out of her tight little ass. The look of pure bliss on P’s face was almost enough to make her cum, but as always, it was Daddy who really did it for her.

“Baby girl, are you soaking P’s cock with your wet little pussy? I can hear how wet you are. You are being such a good girl for me, would you like to cum with Daddy in your ass and P in your pussy?”

“Yes please, Daddy. I want you both to fill me up while I cum all over your cocks.”

P began to slowly move under D, while Daddy slid in and out behind her. She felt P stiffen under her as he moaned into her neck, his hot cum filling her pussy. As she began to melt into his chest, Daddy grasped her hips and drove himself deep into her ass, “How does it feel to be full of hot cum in both your little holes, baby girl?”

Fuck.

“I love it Daddy, I love it so much, please fill me up, I promise I won’t waste any of it!”

As he growled his pleasure into her neck and filled her ass, she couldn’t help but think…

While she wouldn’t want this every single day, she held that privilege for Daddy, it sure felt like a little piece of heaven for right now.