Be a Bitch

Moving my fledgling business home was a scary proposition. It meant having strange men come to my house, knowing where I lived, what I had, where I slept and ate. I had to look at it rationally or I never could have done it. These were submissive men right? Men who wanted ME to take control, hurt THEM; and do it without a single soul EVER finding out. How could any of them want to do anything to bring attention to themselves or do anything to hurt me? Their fantasy involved being submissive, helpless, broken. To be aggressive in the tiniest way would destroy that. Just as scary to me was the thought that I was going to have to ramp up on my dominant personality and be a bitch. Everything inside me had been conditioned from early childhood to be polite, caring, patient, understanding. I couldn't betray myself, but I couldn't just be me. I had to be someone I could live with. Someone I could wear like a second skin. Bitch I was not. Maybe online it was possible, but face to face? I cringed at the thought. Then a hint of a new persona began to emerge – playful, devious, devilish. I could show “hints” of being a bitch, but more caring with the notion that at any time I could turn. I could inflict pain, but only on those who enjoyed it. I could control men, but only when they required it. My whole spiel was that I enjoyed playing with those who genuinely enjoyed me. I could spank, flog, kick and otherwise inflict torture and do it with a smile, knowing that the partner in front of me did not just like it, but craved it. I wasn't taking advantage, I was giving someone a safe place to live out a fantasy. I could live with that. Especially since I enjoyed the mind play, the bondage, the cross-dressers and the role play afforded in many of the sessions. I got to be teacher, sexpot, sadist, spy, teaser or any number of personalities, sometimes all in one week. Not to mention how much I was learning about men and about myself. I think I was more amazed at what feelings and thoughts some of these activities brought about inside myself than what I learned about the other sex. Maybe this foray into alternative sexual fantasy was easier for me due to the fact that I was already never really surprised at what men were willing to do and honestly intrigued by what I was willing to do.

A Very Young Mentor

As things intensified and relationships blossomed online, I knew I had to make a decision. Where was I going from here? Did I want to stay comfortably distant behind the computer screen or physically enter the world of bondage and control and meet some of these men face to face? While I was toying with the idea, having no real plan yet either way, I was contacted by a real professional domme in my city. She had both an online personality and an in person business. What did she want with me? It didn't take long to figure it out. Although she professed to just wanting to help out a sister domme get started, I knew she felt it was either take me under her wing or chance that I would step out on my own and provide extra competition for her locally. She was a smart cookie. We scratched each others' backs. It helped infuse new life into her business and it gave me a safer place to start. I was added to her website. She promoted me with her clients, took some new ones and taught me the very basics on how to present, how to screen and how to play safely. She was 20 years my junior yet with her six years in the business, she was light years ahead of me in this world. I learned much from her. Unfortunately, more about what not to do than what to do.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, she was also a very lonely, unhappy escort who's teen years as a submissive slave to a male dom had made a deep, dark scar on her psyche. There was much history with and about her both at the local level and in the online community. I was fortunate to heed the signs of trouble ahead and move my budding business home before the next storm surrounding her blew in. I felt bad for her. She had amazing potential and natural talent. But the pain inside her colored her world and challenged her ability to make good decisions. I wanted to help her in any way I could, but I couldn't risk getting sucked into the mess she invariably made for herself and those around her. I basically cut ties as soon as I could and hurt her like everyone else did.

Wankers

This tease and denial guy was one of the ones who's kink involved viewing the domme. (There were just as many who's kink centered on being the one viewed.) But if I remember correctly, and there were so many I interacted with there is a slight chance I'm confusing him with someone else, there was at least one time where he requested to be viewed. It was for the express purpose of watching him perform a rather interesting feat. He was a thin, young man with a very large cock who could get on his bed, throw his feet over his head and bend in half far enough to get that cock in his mouth. I'm not sure if he got off on the humiliation of it or if he was bragging in a way or even if he just thought it would turn me on. Whatever the case, he seemed proud of his ability and I applauded him.

The majority of males online were what online dommes called wankers. They would contact you, share a kink or fantasy, pretend to want to pay to play, ask lots of questions, require that they get to see you on cam to make sure you were a real female, keep you interested just long enough to get enough fodder for a future fantasy or actually get off then and there and then disappear. It worked often enough that they continued to do it again and again. Sometimes with different women, sometimes with different online names and stories. The easy money wasn't so easy, but many of the girls (and I say girls because they weren't mature enough to understand what was going on) thought it was and they were somehow getting shafted. They complained loudly about the wankers and even branded many of the genuine bdsm players wankers because they couldn't keep them interested.

I remember one of the most successful online dommes wasn't young, wasn't thin, wasn't even pretty. She just knew how to play the game. I didn't always agree with how she treated her subs, but not everyone would agree with how I treated mine. Like I said before, it was completely individual. One of the things I remember her telling a man to do was cover his balls with peanut butter and let his cat lick it all off. Did he do it? Who knows, but it was shocking enough, brave enough, perverted enough and basically still harmless enough to attract lots of attention. Tons of men were beating a path to serve her.