So, this is how it started:
It was March, early spring, a couple of weeks after Ash Wednesday.
Things were going pretty awful for me in the pro-domme world. Recently, a bunch of whackos contacted me and their vitriol scared me. I was surprised how men wanted some seriously extreme fantasies and wanted women to just perform them out of the goodness of their hearts. Like the 23 year old Army boy in Korea who wanted me to dress him in women's panties, put lipstick on him, humiliate him, then fuck him up the ass.
That's not something one just goes and does with a person he or she happens to bump into on the internet. Yet that's what he wanted--a one-shot, one time deal in a hotel while he was back on leave. He was offended that I was "professional"--called me a fat old bag and a bunch of other nasty things.
He wasn't the only one to get that rude in recent days. I'd been warned by long-time pro-domme friends that this was a trend: guys thinking they could have proper sadomasochistc encounters with anyone they saw on the 'net who said she might be a Domme and then getting very pissy at the mention of anything professional. Part of the attitude comes from porn, which gives the impression that you can get whatever you want, for free, if you just show up. The other part is basic cheapness and the idea that sexuality is the same for men as it is for women...which it truly is not.
Guys have no clue the trouble they can get themselves into when they wander into the BDSM world....that all is not what it appears to be. But I know. In the relatively short time I spent in that world, I knew what could happen to smart-asses who picked up "kinky" women or men in nefarious places.
Bottom line: they could get seriously, physically hurt. And not the way they want to be hurt either.
With all this negatvity directed at me, and a Statie bugging me on a regular basis, I decided to give up pro-domming for Lent. Little One, a 20-something regular play parnter laughed. "So, you're giving up making money for Lent?"
"Yep. It's just not working out right now...why put myself in a potentially dangerous situation with some jerk who has no clue what he's getting himself into."
I figured it's leave the whole thing up to God and see what crosses my path.
It was kind of warm this late March Friday. Snow was melting, and everything was gray and black. Some freinds of mine asked me if I could pick up a jar of Elbow Grease for them. They were having a party and mail-order wouldn't be fast enough. I thought I saw some at a particular Porno-Mart the other side of the Mass/CT border--or at least I'd seen some there a couple of months before.
I was dressed down for a trip to that place: jeans, a tasteful leather jacket, black shirt, pink scarf, little makeup, pink lipgloss, my glasses. I wouldn't consider myself all that sexy--and I didn't look like your average browser at the Porno-Mart.
Porno-Mart's a strange place. Next door to a "gentleman's club," it caters to guys taking a break from the dancers even though it says it's for couples. There are peep shows in the back and you can rent any kind of porn you want. It's fairly clean and the dildoes are neatly organized. There's a nice display of every sort of motion lotion and kama sutra product as well as a wide array of other sorts of lubricants and condoms. They also sell stripper wear and shoes with 7-in stiletto heels. I'd bought a couple of pairs there for fun--one time, Vinnie behind the counter observed "you know, you got nice feet."
What's a girl supposed to say to something like that??
The Porno-Mart made me itch, but it wasn't as bad as the place in Springfield where the hookers hung around.
So, I looked around a bit like I usually do when I'm there--checked out the magazines to see who's listed in the D.D.I.; checked to see if I knew any pasty male body that graced any of the covers of the less expensive Domina Directories; quickly glaced thru at the badly written masturbatory fantasies in some of the other slick and classy books...perused the s/m porn titles, perused the gay porn titles, perused the regular porn titles. Checked the case that held ball-gags and whips of poor quality. Looked thru the stripper wear but even the size Large wasn't large enough for me.
I looked thru all the lotions and notions and creams and jellies and there was no Elbow Grease. Damn.
Wasted at trip to the Porno-Mart for nothing.
I started to walk out and heard someone say "oh, guess you didn't find what you were looking for today."
I quickly glanced over my shoulder and saw this blond guy with big sparkly blue eyes. He was wearing chinos, a red shirt and a black ski vest. Very pretty. And didn't belong in the Porno-Mart.
I smiled and walked out.
And as I'm walking, I hear "Guess your shopping trip wasn't all that fruitful today."
It was the blond again. "No, not really."
"oh, too bad then."
He was walking past me. I noticed he didn't have a bag. "Guess you didn't find anything either."
"Nope."
"And what were you looking for?"
"Looking to play..."
I stopped. "Really now?" He stopped too, and I walked over to where he was standing, in the parking lot of the strip bar next door......
It was March, early spring, a couple of weeks after Ash Wednesday.
Things were going pretty awful for me in the pro-domme world. Recently, a bunch of whackos contacted me and their vitriol scared me. I was surprised how men wanted some seriously extreme fantasies and wanted women to just perform them out of the goodness of their hearts. Like the 23 year old Army boy in Korea who wanted me to dress him in women's panties, put lipstick on him, humiliate him, then fuck him up the ass.
That's not something one just goes and does with a person he or she happens to bump into on the internet. Yet that's what he wanted--a one-shot, one time deal in a hotel while he was back on leave. He was offended that I was "professional"--called me a fat old bag and a bunch of other nasty things.
He wasn't the only one to get that rude in recent days. I'd been warned by long-time pro-domme friends that this was a trend: guys thinking they could have proper sadomasochistc encounters with anyone they saw on the 'net who said she might be a Domme and then getting very pissy at the mention of anything professional. Part of the attitude comes from porn, which gives the impression that you can get whatever you want, for free, if you just show up. The other part is basic cheapness and the idea that sexuality is the same for men as it is for women...which it truly is not.
Guys have no clue the trouble they can get themselves into when they wander into the BDSM world....that all is not what it appears to be. But I know. In the relatively short time I spent in that world, I knew what could happen to smart-asses who picked up "kinky" women or men in nefarious places.
Bottom line: they could get seriously, physically hurt. And not the way they want to be hurt either.
With all this negatvity directed at me, and a Statie bugging me on a regular basis, I decided to give up pro-domming for Lent. Little One, a 20-something regular play parnter laughed. "So, you're giving up making money for Lent?"
"Yep. It's just not working out right now...why put myself in a potentially dangerous situation with some jerk who has no clue what he's getting himself into."
I figured it's leave the whole thing up to God and see what crosses my path.
It was kind of warm this late March Friday. Snow was melting, and everything was gray and black. Some freinds of mine asked me if I could pick up a jar of Elbow Grease for them. They were having a party and mail-order wouldn't be fast enough. I thought I saw some at a particular Porno-Mart the other side of the Mass/CT border--or at least I'd seen some there a couple of months before.
I was dressed down for a trip to that place: jeans, a tasteful leather jacket, black shirt, pink scarf, little makeup, pink lipgloss, my glasses. I wouldn't consider myself all that sexy--and I didn't look like your average browser at the Porno-Mart.
Porno-Mart's a strange place. Next door to a "gentleman's club," it caters to guys taking a break from the dancers even though it says it's for couples. There are peep shows in the back and you can rent any kind of porn you want. It's fairly clean and the dildoes are neatly organized. There's a nice display of every sort of motion lotion and kama sutra product as well as a wide array of other sorts of lubricants and condoms. They also sell stripper wear and shoes with 7-in stiletto heels. I'd bought a couple of pairs there for fun--one time, Vinnie behind the counter observed "you know, you got nice feet."
What's a girl supposed to say to something like that??
The Porno-Mart made me itch, but it wasn't as bad as the place in Springfield where the hookers hung around.
So, I looked around a bit like I usually do when I'm there--checked out the magazines to see who's listed in the D.D.I.; checked to see if I knew any pasty male body that graced any of the covers of the less expensive Domina Directories; quickly glaced thru at the badly written masturbatory fantasies in some of the other slick and classy books...perused the s/m porn titles, perused the gay porn titles, perused the regular porn titles. Checked the case that held ball-gags and whips of poor quality. Looked thru the stripper wear but even the size Large wasn't large enough for me.
I looked thru all the lotions and notions and creams and jellies and there was no Elbow Grease. Damn.
Wasted at trip to the Porno-Mart for nothing.
I started to walk out and heard someone say "oh, guess you didn't find what you were looking for today."
I quickly glanced over my shoulder and saw this blond guy with big sparkly blue eyes. He was wearing chinos, a red shirt and a black ski vest. Very pretty. And didn't belong in the Porno-Mart.
I smiled and walked out.
And as I'm walking, I hear "Guess your shopping trip wasn't all that fruitful today."
It was the blond again. "No, not really."
"oh, too bad then."
He was walking past me. I noticed he didn't have a bag. "Guess you didn't find anything either."
"Nope."
"And what were you looking for?"
"Looking to play..."
I stopped. "Really now?" He stopped too, and I walked over to where he was standing, in the parking lot of the strip bar next door......
posted by Tish Grier at 7:15 AM
2 Comments:
Somewhere in the mid-90's, the attitude changed. I was getting fewer and fewer calls from "lifestyle" subs and more calls from "tricks". Every escort agency in town was offering up cute little things in black leather and latex, looking the part, but taking it like a good girl. This caused so much confusion as to what they could or should expect from the real thing.
Foolish men with macho attitudes who were used to "getting their money's worth" often times would threaten or harrass me. Not realizing that just because he couldn't see the male protection...This also brought on the cheapskates who were used to paying half of my fee for an escort.
I came across my fair share of whackos, too. The final straw was a guy who not only threatened my life but seemed to know too many personal details of my day to day life.
I just didn't want to end up in prison for murder or dead because I was too slow.
I hear ya....
the 90's seems to be the watershead year for change in The Scene--two pro friends with 25+ years at it agree with me that alot of it has to do with the Internet as well as the proliferation of escorts posing as dommes. One friend's observation was spot on: when a guy had to find you thru a print ad, he had to make the effort and was serious, but with the 'net, any moron with an itch and no knowledge of The Scene could make whatever demands he wanted and be a little bastard about it.
I once had a guy offer me $75 for a session because a stripper at the big local stripjoint in Springfield offered to "dom" him for that much.
Dominating someone isn't an over-priced lap dance.
Too many curiosity seekers playing around with something they have no business sticking their noses into in the first place.
The Internet also made it very easy for whackos to find out far too much info on someone. That happened to another friend who had to go underground for a year or so just to let the weirdness die down.
I enjoyed it, but the risks got way too high for me too.
Post a Comment
<< Home