Cream of the Crop

Speaking of what males were willing to do, two totally different men come to mind. One I met in NYC at his apartment, introduced to me by his mistress. We spent a few hours together over the course of about 10 days during which I stayed at his place. The other, a tall, commanding figure of a man who first visited me early in my career and continued to see me regularly over the years as well as chat with me almost daily during that time. They were completely different in stature, color, background and very different in kink, but the unlimited array of activities either of them were willing to tackle was equally impressive.

The first fellow was European, non-white, slight of frame who probably came from money. Other than his unfailing desire to be literally owned by a cruel mistress who stressed his lesser place as a slave in her world, he was a classy gentleman who dressed nicely. The lengths he was willing to go and the abuse he was willing to endure tested the limits of believability. When I saw him crawl around the floor naked and hump the bare floor in honor of his mistress and to relay to her the depth of his loyalty I was both astonished and touched. She, on the other hand, was disgusted. She tried to avoid him. She stayed out all night with friends. She trashed his apartment. Speaking in confidence to me, she called him a “dirty little man who repulsed her”. In the end, she won. He was utterly devoted to her. Once my visit had ended and I returned home, he completely cut off contact with me at her request.

The second fellow was a southern raised boy. He was older, much taller, a more imposing presence with gray hair and dark rimmed glasses. Probably came from a hard-working family and a traditional church background, most likely baptist. He would do anything and everything I asked of him. But his reasons weren't the same as my frail European friend's. This man was brim full of sexual energy, curiosity, playfulness and blessed with an amazingly open mind. He was kind, kinky, fun and at the same time, totally committed to his family and his business. I can say that with confidence since I usually knew when he worked late, came in early, spent time with his family, played babysitter for his grandchildren or was very generous to his wife with regular weekend shopping trips together and dinners out. There was only one other man I played with who had the boundless desire and unquenchable thirst this man did. The difference was this man seemed to genuinely care who and care about who he played with. He was never selfish or impatient. He never complained about the time, the activities or the payment as some were prone to do. I always felt comfortable and connected to him as well as protected. We continued to chat online for a time even after I ended all my sessions. A finer man doesn't exist.

 Seems to me, the ones who were with me at the end, were the ones who came to me early on and stayed. Maybe it was an intellectual thing. I wasn't sexual although I was physical. If a man was looking to get a cheap thrill watching me disrobe, (under the guise of tease and denial), it wasn't happening and he didn't return. If a man was expecting to be forced into something sexual so he could be free from guilt and just enjoy his good fortune, again it wasn't happening with me. If he was willing to explore a different kind of experience where the sexual part was strictly his to play and I was merely the audience with an expectation of a response to please and entertain me, I was totally up for the game. It was his to own the desires, mine to make him show them to me like a puppet on a string. I think I was lucky in that I got the cream of the crop. But then, when you mesh with your adoring fans, you're bound to feel you got the best.

Now the other client I compared to my inexhaustibly passionate friend was also a friend I chatted with online frequently and saw on a number of occasions over the years. The difference here was this time it was an insatiable desire for some form of sexual abuse regardless, really, where it came from. He was a cross-dresser who had a wife, a girlfriend, and engaged in anonymous sex with men in motels. Again, he was a responsible father, hard worker who had no anger issues or warped priorities that I could see. Just an almost uncontrollable desire to be dressed up and used sexually like a woman.

That was a common theme with some of my clients. I provided a safe, even supportive environment for transforming from macho man to slutty whore. They weren't interested in being classy or sexy so much as just pure sexual degradation. It wasn't enough to don garter and stockings and play hooker. It had to be an all out switch from responsible, uptight, politically correct male to whorish, reckless slut with all the trimmings. I kept wigs, makeup, heels, bras, etc enough to make any size tramp a worthy contestant. When he became she, a name was chosen and the degradation and abuse began usually including pictures and occasionally video. Most of these cds wanted something to view later to prove to themselves they actually did it. And so they could admire the decadent woman they had become and the sexual depravity they engaged in. It was fuel for many a masturbation session at home.