There’s something about Christmas, the family meals and the comfort of love and friendship, it does things to a person. It got me thinking maybe it’s time to date someone with – and please don’t judge me – “relationship potential.”

I thought swiping right on Tinder might be too superficial, so I decided to try an online dating site, something that would match us on deeper interests and attitudes. I created a profile on OkStupid and spent a few hours answering insightful and thought-provoking questions, such as:

• While in the middle of the best lovemaking of your life, if your lover asked you to squeal like a dolphin, would you? (Actual question.)
• If you were performing oral sex on a partner who accidentally farted, how do you think you would react? (Actual question.)
• Are you more horny or more lonely? (Actual question.)

These and many more questions were answered dutifully, and then I sat back and waited for the algorithms to do their magic. Relationship material is what I was looking for and a few days later I found one special message in my inbox:

Hello Polly,
I’m a 37 year-old Spanish man living in Barcelona and I want to meet a girl for friendship and maybe more. I’m a shy guy, especially with girls. I’m open-minded, polite, I like running and the outdoors, and I have a desire to be sexually dominated by a woman.

My first-ever dominatrix proposal. Invisible air punch! The email continues:

I would like very much to find a nice girl to share my fantasy, and sorry if I have offended you. If you are interested in getting to know me, or have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask.

Bye. Mr. Slave

This is the only OkStupid message I felt compelled to answer immediately. I’m obviously eager to please; perhaps not one of the hallmarks of a world-class dominatrix.

Hi Mr. Slave,
I may be interested. Could you tell me a little more about it? Apart from a little experimentation in University, I haven’t tried anything like this for a long time.
Kisses. Polly.

Polly’s Top BDSM Tip learned from that University experience: if it feels wrong, don’t be afraid to say no. Like when he turns up for a BDSM session with a bag of clothes pegs raided from his mom’s laundry shelf. Just. Say. No.

Hello Polly,
Thanks for your email. I’m excited to have received your message and I like your photos.
I can tell you something about my previous experience, if that will help. It started with a girl who was a friend. Sometimes when we were together she started saying she wanted a servant, then she would look at me. She joked about it once, then another day, and another and so on. At first I was hurt and offended but then the more she said it, the more I liked it.
I told her how I felt. So a few days later she asked me to clean her room. While I was cleaning her room, she kept making fun of me and laughing at me.

Kinky sex and a tidy room? Cleaning Sunday will never be the same again.
One day she told me to take my clothes off before cleaning her room. I did. Then, in the next few days, she asked me to do more things like preparing coffee or snacks for her, kissing her feet, doing the laundry, etc…

Coffee? And laundry? And a clean room? Aaaaa!!

… and while I was doing it she was gently whipping my ass…etc..sometimes she asked me as well to give her pleasure.
Then she got transferred to another town and I have not had any more domination experiences since. I still think about what happened and imagine what more we could have done. If you want to carry on I can send you a photo…
Bye for now. Xxx Mr. Slave

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take this further. When I did try domination at university I didn’t enjoy it. Now, I do love sex, but I’m a lazy fucker. I only ever grudgingly put in my shift on top, and even then only after it looks like the guy is in imminent danger of throwing up his lungs and dying.

With BDSM, sure you get to tie the guy down and have fun with a dripping candle and a couple of clothes pegs, but after all that’s done, you’re left with a long, lonely shift at the top. Untying him halfway through because your thighs are quivering painfully and you’re wheezing like a distraught octogenarian can put a real damper on the whole muahaha-you’re-in-my-power vibe. I also thought about all the earnest intentions which started this whole thing: Christmas dinners, warm fuzzy family time, bedroom slippers and “relationship material.” So I emailed him back:

Dear Mr. Slave,
Thanks for sharing your experience. I have one more question. Have you been a naughty boy this year?