There was an
interesting young doctor who coaxed me by example. He gently pushed
me during conversation in the direction he wanted to go. He would
ask to view me, watch me tease him for a bit. Then I shut down the
webcam and let him beg to view more. I denied him and laughed. Let
him beg more. Next came the demand. I would demand he pay me to
view again. This would repeat itself several times while I drained
him of whatever amount of money he had stocked just for this
particular playtime. He would show up online now and then. There
was no set schedule and if I wasn't ready to play, he had others he
could and would play the game with. I never knew how long we were
going to play or how much money he had to play with. Usually it ran
about an hour and $100-200. On one occasion it ran much longer. I'm
not sure how long. Could have been two hours, could have been six.
I was caught up in what was happening and just lost track of time.
It was an overwhelming experience. Someone taught me the game and
paid me $800 that day to play. My head was about to explode! He was
a nice enough fellow and I always thanked him for his generosity.
It was sad to see
him go. What I could gather from other females online, one of the
dommes outed him to others and he was being pursued by several who
wanted a cut of the easy money. Well, really? It wasn't easy money
unless you listened carefully to how to play his game. Young girls
don't always get all the nuances, nor do they understand the
intricacies of bdsm play. They'd barely scratched the surface before
they were running around the web demanding money. One of these
lovely ladies got into a conversation with him and demanded money.
The rumor was she
gathered enough information about him to turn him in to his family.
I can't say for sure if the story was true or what the consequences
for him were. What I do know is it broke my heart to hear it. I
truly felt bad for him because I felt I knew him. We had a
connection. Enjoyed a harmless game together. It hurt to think
someone could be so vicious. Could ruin a perfectly good human being
over a few dollars. I never did get to play with him again.
It was the first
time I felt my protective side kick in. There was a sense of
obligation to shield these men from the harm that could be inflicted
so easily by uncaring, greedy women. Problem was, I was also, in a
way, trying to shield them from themselves. Some of them were so in
love with the idea of being used by an evil, nasty bitch they stepped
into deep waters without thinking. At least not with their big head.
