The Dominant Trainer

One of the stock heroes in BDSM fiction is the male Dominant who has "trained lots of subs." His background is usually a throwaway one, like describing a fictional hero as rich, without actually presenting a tabulation of his true net worth. Training experience is supposed to give the hero kink cred: such a Dom has to be really good at what he does. His Domliness is so overwhelming that he'll show the BDSM virginal heroine (and presumably the BDSM virginal reader) a great time.

Okay. In real life, a Dominant's creativity is usually valued more than his experience, so what does having "trained a lot of subs" really mean?

If a Dominant has had a lot of subs, that's different than having trained a lot of subs. Ethical "training" means private teaching, like conducting workshops on some aspect of BDSM. Here the Dom teacher is a friend of the sub. Being principled, this trainer Dom does not have authority over the sub--or else it is a D/s relationship, not a trainer-trainee relationship. It goes without saying that this interaction cannot involve sex--or even real emotional involvement. The Dom is charged with training a sub, not his sub. Altruism is the ethical trainer's only reward.

But can you really train people? I think not. You train animals. The processes, mechanics, protocols and emotions involved in kink are normally far more complex than commands to sit or roll over. And they are highly specific to the couple. Subs and Doms cannot be interchanged: mixing and matching of people is a crazy concept. What might please the ethical trainer has no bearing on what will float the boat of another Dom.

The idea of a special school where Dominants train submissives or slaves is alluring. The Story of O, by Pauline Reage, and the Marketplace Series by Laura Antoniou are prominent fictional examples. But the dynamic is fantasy. No one can train somebody to be another person's worthy submissive. There is no universal BDSM rule book that can prepare a sub for a different (and future) BDSM relationship.

Unhappily, the fantasy of "sub training" sneaks into real life, ensnaring the innocent. There are plenty of self-described Dominants in the community who offer to "train subs". These men are not interested in training anyone. All they really want is to "get some". A supposed Dom who brags about having "trained a lot of subs" is the BDSM equivalent of a man claiming he's "fucked a lot of women." Suddenly "training" goes from darkly forbidden and dramatic to just plain slimy.

There are better ways for a curious newbie to get some face-to-face individual help. For example, one good choice is to ask an experienced sub or slave to mentor her. Begging a Dominant for private lessons on how to be a sub is asking for trouble; even an ethical Dom has a potential conflict of interest.


There's a clever April Fool's joke on Etsy (a kind of online artist's colony) now. This Etsy shop, called To be Read, is owned by the prestigious Dear Author review site. The shop offers to "sell" handmade, one-of-a-kind book reviews. An A review is way cheaper than an F review. It's especially funny if you're familiar with Etsy. Dear Author Etsy. Since the shop will probably disappear May 1, I offer this link, too: Cached Dear Author Etsy

Critique Groups

I was recently interviewed by The Black Raven's Erotic Cafe. Janis' questions really got me thinking about some writerly things, especially critique groups.

Based on the circulation of writer's magazines, like Writer's Digest, there are hundreds of thousands of fiction writers in the United States. A majority of these writers are probably going to a critique group.

I used to be one of those writers. I've been a member of several different critique groups during my writing life. I couldn't have survived without them. Writing is such a solitary pursuit, and critique meetings are like a "welcome home" party after getting out of prison. These get-togethers allow writers a place for gossip and support. I wouldn't be surprised if NaNoWriMo (a national project to write a novel in a month) is a sensation mainly because of the social experience. When critique groups click because there's a grounding in mutual respect, it's tremendously satisfying.

Critique groups are, of course, supposed to provide writing advice, too. Not everyone can stomach that part, though. One of my author friends couldn't. Mild suggestions about her pages were an assault on her soul. After one too many panic attacks, she stopped coming to critique. She said her work was too literary for us. Instead of using our free (and low-brow) advice, she paid a vanity publisher $600 to edit her work. Then she paid the same publisher to have this manuscript published (by purchasing advance copies). I bought and read her book. I'm in the acknowledgments. I'm flattered. And also mystified, since she ignored all of my suggestions.

There are specialty critique groups, some which even claim to be literary. I recently saw this invitation tacked to the bulletin board at the local coffee house:

New Literary Critique Group Forming. We are looking for open-minded writers. Must be willing to read works with GLBT themes. Genre fiction NOT considered.

Not open-minded enough to critique genre, I guess.

Some critique groups are run like exclusive secret societies. The long-lived Slow Sand Writer's Society in Colorado is one of those. The group is highly formal, with a rigorous audition-based application process, limited enrollment and its own website. Other groups are more inclusive, perhaps part of a non-profit writer's organization. I belonged to a critique group run by the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers for years. I was also a member of another group, run like an underground cell. I would meet with these secret agent-like creative folks publicly at Barnes and Noble, but I had to know somebody (who knew somebody) to get an invite.

There are lots of online critique groups. They would appeal to writers with inflexible schedules or those living in the middle of nowhere. But I'm afraid to join an online group. Humans are more apt to be flippant and cruel when they think they're anonymous.

Critiquing romance brings up a whole new set of problems. Sex scenes, even when they aren't graphic, are intimate. A romance writer can press a beta-reader's hot buttons (and not always in a good way). I knew I had to leave my secret-agent group when one of the women rewrote my rather tame sex scene using what she considered a more proper feminist perspective. My sex really upset her. In the long run, striking out alone has been a good thing. Writing without a hall monitor allowed me to explore the more intense themes of BDSM erotica.

Review: Erotica Review Blogs

I thought it would be fun to review a few of my favorite e-book erotica review blogs. These blogs are all top-flight, single-person efforts. They each have a distinct character, tone--and charm.

Mrs. Giggles: This reviewer is irreverent and often hysterically funny. Reading her is like getting the low-down on erotic and romance books from your best, very well-read, friend. She reviews from the gut. Occasionally she'll review BDSM stories, and though she claims it's not her thing, her instincts are spot-on. Here's a taste of Mrs. Giggles:

Plot? Story? Character development? All of these seem secondary to the author's agenda here: the objectification, deification, and eroticization of the Alpha Male Asshole.

Book Utopia: I've mentioned Utopia Mom in my blog before. I adore her reviews. She is the most serious and intellectual of the bunch. Her stylish and nearly scientific analyses are a joy to read. She is in no way a snob. She reviews offerings from the obscure indy presses, as well as the high and mighty. She's both fearless and tactful. According to Erecsite (my go-to blog for erotica electronic publishing industry news), Utopia Mom is under-appreciated. Not by me. Not by a long shot.

Dear Author: The iconic Dear Author site is actually a group effort. Joan/SarahF is the only one who reviews BSDM, so I'm going to single her out. I'm not sure why she has a slash name, because I believe she is a single person. Joan/SarahF's reviews of BDSM stories are fascinating: she has a profound understanding of the emotional, physical and technical aspects of the practices. Reading her is like hanging out with a stern SSC Dungeon Mistress--who has a day job as literature professor. She'll call out writers of the BDSM genre when they fail, and swat them with her verbal flogger.

Teddy Pig: Teddy Pig (can I call you Teddy?) rarely reviews books, unfortunately. His focus is on e-book readers and the like. When he does review a book, it's a treat: he offers a highly personal perspective on BDSM and gay fiction. Teddy Pig's reviews are sincere, a little cranky, and sometimes in verse. Happily, he's perfectly willing to review older books. Here's a snippet of his review of the best book on gay trapeze artists ever written, published in 1979:

The Catch Trap in my opinion is more than just the average gay or even straight epic historical romantic codpiece ripper. 
Sure there is sex and heartache and drama and lots of heavy sighs and a couple of very violent moments but they are not the best part. 
There are distinct gay life lessons, real valid messages falling out of these pages even though it is written by an obviously intelligent but none the less straight woman.