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So to take a chance of getting to know someone from the club and the relationship going south… the thought of her being able to so easily ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for in my life… it’s enough to make me continue living my double life without a second’s hesitation.
The vanilla world isn’t educated on BDSM enough for me to be able to live openly as a Dominant. That word to a sickening percentage of people is synonymous with predator—and not the “Primal Predator” I identify as in our community, but the other kind. The kind who send innocents to my ER for me to do my best to fix. Those victims and survivors who are required to be sent to my friend Dr. Neil Walker to fix their minds that have been broken by psychopathic, sadistic bastards with no soul.
Not to be confused with sadists within our community—one can be a true sadist and still be safe, sane, and consensual. But they still have their conscience. They still have their heart and soul, their morals. They care about the masochist who is taking their sadism, if not romantically, then at least in a humane way.
At Club Alias, the masochists—people who derive sexual pleasure from receiving pain—can let go of all their inhibitions and trust that they are safe within those walls. The vetting process every single member is put through assures that even the ones who score 100% on the scale for Sadist—a person who derives sexual pleasure from inflicting pain—are of sane and sound mind; they’re not there under false pretenses. Within the minimum of four therapy sessions, Doc always catches the slightest inconsistency or secret darkness someone tries to hide.
He’s the one person at the club I never tried to hide my identity from. We’ve been colleagues for decades now. Went to med school together. He played a huge part in helping me realize who I am. People have always, always looked to me for guidance—even when I was just a kid and something chaotic happened, other kids would look to see what I was doing, how I would react first, instead of immediately panicking. But he’s the one who helped me put two and two together that a Dominant isn’t made. It’s just who you are. One can learn to be a dominant person, whether at work being a boss or in a bedroom, topping their sexual partner. But a true Dominant… it’s just who that person is right down to their very marrow, even without necessarily meaning to be.
Before Doc helped me become the D-type I am today, way back before I knew anything about BDSM, my Dominance ruled every decision. Those kids who looked to me for guidance gave me the courage and confidence to take on the leadership role they placed me in without missing a beat. But I was always in the gifted classes—not being conceited, I was just born with a higher than average IQ—so I really thought about the consequences and outcomes of each and every choice before making a decision, especially when other people were looking up to me, counting on me.
It’s also why my first job was as a firefighter. Yes, I probably could’ve done some incredible things with the opportunities my level of intelligence opened up for me, but becoming a firefighter called to something inside me. Peter Parker’s uncle told him “With great power comes great responsibility.” My power at that time was my IQ mixed with my Dominance. And what made me feel the most useful, the most helpful, was being a fireman, where making quick decisions with a clear mind was the difference between life and death for countless people, including myself in most rescues.
Then from there, I became an EMT, then leveled up to paramedic, then so on and so forth until I found myself years later shaking hands with the head of the hospital, when I signed on as their newest full-fledged medical doctor. And since that Dominance inside me never waned, never even took a step back, only got stronger and better and wiser, it’s how I ended up where I am today, the head of the number-one emergency room in the state. If someone is hurt, they will risk life and limb to get to my ER, even if they’ll pass several others on their way.
So to be associated with the other kind of predator just because of the control I desire over my consensual sexual partner and the need I have inside me to use her body in ways she never even considered before….
That’s why I refuse to let anyone know the real me. On either side of the equation. The vanilla world who knows Felix, the medical doctor, has no idea of my sexual preferences. The BDSM community I hold so dear to me, they have no clue I’m the doctor who fixes them up in the emergency room at our local hospital. And on top of all that, no one knows I’m also the guy who works part-time at the home improvement store. Which at first was because I wanted to learn how to build certain things by surrounding myself with people who knew how, plus the bonus of a great employee discount. It just seemed logical to my logic-seeking mind.
