In general, I tend to be a cautious soul. That's not a virtue, it's just a fact.
And so, in general, I tend to be cautious when approached by subs, new or otherwise. That caution is fed by three beliefs:
1. subs hope that dom/mes will win - on whole, they need a strong partner, haven't yet found one and are (desperately? definitely?) hoping that you'll be the one. And so, they're looking for the opportunity to let us win. That can be dicey.
2. subs need to believe that they'll be safe - on whole, they know that what they're doing feels risky. Almost all have been hurt before, both by vanilla partners who don't "get" their needs and by dom/mes who have betrayed them. Some despair. Some resort to a sort of "play only" mode. Others raise the best shield they can, hoping that there will be someone who gives them reason, finally, to cast it aside.
3. there's no way of earth for them to understand how profound their surrender might be. I mean, really. If you've been doubting your sanity or normalcy for a long time, if you've been questing for a place but with dimming hope, wouldn't the prospect of acceptance - of embrace - be utterly disorienting? In what world would you have predicted that, after doing something hard, the appearance of the two simple words "good girl" would cause tears to well? Here's a thought experiment: go tell a girlfriend exactly what it's like to be spanked. Tell her that you were intentionally bratty, hoping to provoke it. Tell her what it's like to bare your butt, hands shaking. To be drawn across a lap, perhaps one arm twisted behind, ankles kicked wide. To wait. And then spanked, a steady rain of swats, none stunning but each building. The sting that becomes a burn, hotter and hotter until your mind begins to unhinge - thoughts scatter, the feeling becomes too intense, you overload, pain becomes something else, time spirals rather than flows ahead, words become meaningless, articulation impossible. And you drip and weep and your mouth seeks flesh to embrace.
Go ahead. Tell her. And wonder whether your reaction at the telling (a certain difficulty breathing, mayhap) or hers (uhh ... gawping) is odder.
I might, of course, be wrong about all that. I am neither female nor sub, omniscient nor telepathic. If so, little would delight me more than to hear about the world in others' heads. Ancora imparo.
Where does that leave me? Cautious but deliberate. I try to think ahead, if not to the seventh generation then at least to the seventh month. In general I imagine setting a strong foundation or, if another already has, of reinforcing the foundation. There are, I think, two foundational elements in a D/s sort of interaction: faith and focus. A sub needs to learn that s/he can depend on you. The only way I know to teach that lesson is by living it: by being utterly, implacably reliable. I meet every obligation, fulfill every promise, reward every submission ... and carry out every threat, unfailingly. Faith grows. But focus - in a world of endless demands, constant stimulation and the illusory promise of multi-tasking - is equally important. When I am with my partner, I expect that the rest of the world fade from consciousness. No regrets about the past, no other tasks in the present, no anxiety about tomorrow: there is here. There is now. There is us. And that's enough. And physical actions - rituals, really - can create the necessary psychological sanctuary. (I wrote, long ago, about my amazement at learning of Machiavelli's elaborate rituals, undertaken before he entered his library, to calm, center, humble and open himself.) There might be a quiet period before logging on. A breathing exercise. An unbuttoned shirt. A physical pose - legs spread, hands palm down on the thighs, eyes on the screen. Other electronic devices disabled. Other tabs closed. The door to the room closed, so that the door to the spirit might be opened. Each feeds the growing sense of sanctuary.
The keys are consistency (s/he knows the rules, knows they may mature but won't vanish, knows how to execute them, knows that execution brings reward) and incrementalism (where expectations are, at first, intrusive but not overwhelming then grow as she does).
And so, in my solipsistic little world, there can be interactions with the inexperienced. Those interactions can (eventually must) involve ritual. Those rituals must grow, if the relationship is to. And they must grow in the direction of increasing intrusion on the sub's psyche, which is to say they must lead them to embrace ever more profound submission.
Which, by the way, is a buttload of responsibility, anxiety and work for the dom/me. On average, we make 3.74 boneheaded mistakes a day in the course of running our own lives. Add the responsibility for running some slice of yours. Then multiply it by the multi-task failure coefficient (1.42, if you care to know - doing two things at once triggers 1.42 times the mistakes of doing them separately, an utterly convincing statistic that I just made up but that the Amish validate when they say, "the hurrier I go, the behinder I get") and the result is ... ummm, 3.74 + 2.0 times 1.42 would be ... many, many mistakes.
Which is my apology, in advance, for anything offensive or erroneous in the text above plus a sort of warning about the grief that dealing with me inevitably entails.
How what it's worth,
S.