Failing the Brat Test

There’s a general trope about the Domme: we are tall women who walk around in latex or leather, we’re leggy and slender with strong eyes and a no-nonsense attitude, and we’re bratty. Often, bratty bordering on bitchy.

My mentor adheres to this general stereotype. She’s not leggy nor slender, but with her clients, she seems to be pretty bratty. I can’t judge; that’s her style. And over the past few months, I’ve worked really hard to take on that persona. Why not, right? Behind closed doors, the Dommes I know are unique, interesting, beautiful people, but when with their clients, they’re demanding and sometimes, to my mind, rude. Again, though, that’s a style. And clearly, it works.

But, I fail. I know I fail. If I’m late or overbook, I apologise. “Don’t apologise! They LOVE when you cancel on them last minute!”

Really? Because… that almost seems rude, to me. Maybe if you have that dynamic worked out…? But I’m no good at that.

“I was raped,” said a potential client yesterday, as we met for a quick cup of tea. I always meet people in a vanilla, public setting before I ever play. It gives me a chance to get a gut reaction to them, before progressing the situation.

“Ok,” I said, “tell me what happened.” He talked about it. He had been seeing another Domme in the UK for some time. One night, as she was strapping him down for a scene, another man walked in. It turned out, this Domme had wanted to do a “rape play” scene.

“Not entirely play if it’s not consensual, is it?” I said. We talked a bit more about any other triggers he had, his experiences, his like and dislikes. I thanked him for his time and left, reminding him to think over carefully whether he wanted to play with me. I don’t accept “yea”s or “nay”s on the spot; I ask my potential clients to go home, take some time, and think it over. Later that evening, I got an email:

“You make me feel very calm and relaxed. I don’t normally get that on the first meeting,” he said.

“Ah, don’t you know? Dommes are supposed to be intimidating, scary, and bratty!” I replied, tongue firmly in cheek.

“Well, sorry Miss, but you failed the brat test.”

I suppose there are worse things than to know people want to play with you because you make them feel good. I don’t know how this will translate to going Pro, but it’s something for now.

Special K

Dommes tend to be a generally sedate crowd; we don’t normally squeal and blush with excitement. But there are those few times when even the heart of a Domme quickens a bit, and her pulse begins to race. That’ll be yours truly on Friday.

Being with a client can be like meeting people from a website; you meet, things are going well, and everything is…. acceptable. Maybe you’re even friends with your clients (yes, many of us have long term relationships with our clients… just not sexual ones). But it’s very rare for me that I meet a submissive where there’s a spark. Something clicks, and not only do I want to play with that person, but I want…. more. Maybe sexual, maybe not, but certainly more than just a scene now and then. That’s Client K.

Client K is polyamorous, bordering on polyfidelous, meaning he has more than one romantic relationship, but they tend to be fairly committed. He’s experienced in the scene, but primarily as a Dominant. At a party not too long ago, I pushed him up against a wall (my way of saying “hello”), and told him I wanted him under my flogger*. I wanted a scene with him, and I wanted it that night.

And I got it. It was fantastic. Watching him pull his shirt up, watching his body tense right before my whip touched his skin… something about it made my pulse quicken. I walked up behind him, running my hand over his back, using my nails for some light sensation play to contrast with the impact he’d had. I trailed my hand down his face, and he turned his head to kiss my palm. It was such an honest act of submission, that I knew I had to play with him again. Something more intimate, someplace where I can explore this dynamic in more detail.

And that’s this Friday. This Friday, at his apartment, I am going to do delightfully wicked things to his body. I’m not very good at playing the “man-hating Domme,” like some of my friends. I love what I do. I love my submissives and slaves in a very real and unique way for each of them. But Client K is special. I currently have two plans for him, and even I don’t know how this will go:

1) The “gentle” approach. So many people think that BDSM must involve pain and some physical violence, but that’s not necessarily the case. I have some clients who just want soft physical contact. They want to be told they’re good, and they want to perform for me. With them, I do a lot of gentle touching, almost massage. I do sensation play and fantasies. I tease them, but I never hurt them. That’s one way this might go. Maybe I’ll strap him down to his bed, do some wax play, run my nails and finger tips along his body, and see what I enjoy.

2) The Dominant approach. I could treat him like just another submissive. Teach him The Positions, grab him by the throat and tell him that he belongs to me, and I’m going to make him beg. I could tie him down and hurt him, just for turning me on.

I don’t really know. I’ll try sketching out a scene later and seeing what comes up. In the meantime, it’s fun to ponder the possibilities of a willing body.

 

*That all sounds terribly dramatic, but we had actually negotiated a bit beforehand. As I’ve mentioned, I do not touch without consent.

Insert New Life Here…

I knew it was coming; it wasn’t much of a surprise.

I was fired from my vanilla job, today. I had been making my best efforts for the past 6 months, but they need someone there who can put in 10, 12, 14 hour days. That’s not me, anymore.

My friends have rallied around me, because surely, I must be distraught. But really… I’m not. I’m sad, because I wanted this job to last. I like the security, and the pay was decent. But… it’s not my passion. It’s not what I love.

They always tell you to go with your strength; maybe mine is just how well I swing a whip.

I’ll wipe away your sins with blood and pain.

A Dominant woman can be called many things, “Dominatrix,” “Lady,” “Domme,” “Domina,” and the one that makes me giggle a little inside: “Goddess.” I am none of these things. I am simply “Miss” to my submissives and slaves. When they are with me, “Miss” is the only thing they need to know; what pleases me, what excites me, and what will draw punishment from me. Their only goal, their only reason for being when they’re with me, is to achieve my pleasure and garner my approval. For a few hours, I narrow their worlds down to a single pinpoint of focus: me.

That might sound selfish, it might not. I’ve been a part of this world so long that I don’t remember what society expects me to think of that scenario. And yet, in all these years, I’ve done what I do for free because I love it. I’ve never taken payment for my sessions, and it’s only recently that I’ve given thought to the idea of going Pro. My mentor told me that if I don’t start charging, I’ll begin having lines around the block… and she’s probably right. Every free night is fully booked. I juggle a schedule that would make touring musicians need to take a nap. And all of this, on top of my vanilla life as a mom, and wife to a partner who is also in “the scene.”

And it doesn’t seem to be slowing down. I get more emails a week than you can imagine. Men and women asking to serve me, asking to please me. The things they would let me do to them, if only for a few hours. And I get it. I don’t think every Dominant does, but I get it, and maybe that’s also why I’ve done what I’ve done for free for so long.

Because life is exhausting. As a child, there is right and there is wrong. But as we grow up, our worlds become political minefields where every choice has cascading results; you practically have to be a chess champion to figure out what your next three moves in life will be. It’s exhausting, and overwhelming. With me, there is none of that. With me, there is only pleasing me. I narrow their worlds down to a single, minute focal point: what it takes to please me. Every assignment, every task, it’s all been about earning a reward. Or a punishment. Because sometimes, that’s what they want, too. Sometimes, some clients just want to be punished, as though it’s penitence for a sin that exists only between themselves and their gods. In that respect, a lot of times I don’t see myself as any different than a therapist or a confessional priest. Tell me your sins, little submissive, and I’ll wipe them away with blood and pain.

So going Pro is an option. Maybe. Because if it goes as smooth as silk, we’re fine. But if it comes crashing down around me, it could take down the worlds of my husband and son.

So I guess that’s my decision to make: is reaching for what I want worth the risk of destroying what I have?