I used to live with a dominatrix. Obviously that comes with certain compromises and perks that other living arrangements might not have. I was in the middle of my college career and had been dating her best friend for several months before we all moved in together. They liked alternative fashion, dancing all night, and men wearing heavy eyeliner– at least until I showed up. Outside of a weird vintage Harley Davidson motorcycle, I lacked any visible edge whatsoever. For the most part, we had very little in common but helped each other out. She even offered me several free sessions as payment for helping her with a school project but I politely declined. In retrospect, I should have taken her up on it for the story.
Occasionally you would hear abnormal slapping and groaning sounds coming from her room but I could never tell if it was a boyfriend or a client. She dated two artists that I really liked (one a professor) and the guy that became internet famous for tattooing Hello Kitty onto his forehead. That’s not a joke either, that guy had carnal relations inside of my apartment on numerous occasions and I was on a first name basis with him. He was an amateur professional wrestler somewhere in Southern Ohio. He was one of the few that stood out in the parade of random gentlemen who stopped by that I never saw again.
One day she asked me if BMWs were expensive cars. The following afternoon I was walking around my apartment eating cereal in my Batman pajamas when a stately gentleman showed up in a brand new 5-series. He was the kind of joyless person that didn’t leave the house without a gray blazer and a frown. She introduced him as Eric and I asked if he wanted any orange juice. He declined but I saw him eyeballing my glass until they left. Eric, clearly a married business professional, never had much to say to us. He even showed up during a party and avoided answering every single question anyone asked him. There were a lot of men like Eric and I found them all painfully dull, almost soulless. It was a revolving door of fuddy-duddies. I had weird fantasies about hiding in places around the apartment and scaring them all the time.
Most of her clients were middle-aged white men with plenty of money to waste on something stupid. I’d place hiring a professional mistress somewhere between purchasing a boat and having plastic surgery. The good news is that it’s substantially less expensive to get flogged for an hour while maintaining an erection than it is to buy a yacht. Although, I still wouldn’t exactly consider it cheap either. Her current website starts sessions at almost twice the average American’s daily income. But phone and webcam encounters are slightly more affordable and can be broken down into ten minute intervals. A lot of people compare dominatrixes to prostitutes and, perhaps, there are correlations to be drawn. But I’ve always sort of thought prostitution should be legal too. They are probably bettering more lives than most people in Human Resources and I would, at least, like to have the option to purchase one if I ever become an unloved and lonely old man.
In the end, who cares if you don’t understand it? If you earnestly believe that you can be ball-stomped into a better existence then, by all means, immediately try that out. Do it right now, don’t even wait to finish reading this. Run outside, find anyone wiling to it for you, and thank them profusely for helping as they mash your genitalia into a paste.
You Monsters Are People. 
Never understood the appeal myself, but whatever floats your yacht…
This makes me happy… I’ve had similar musings, as I have a friend who used to be one… Well done
I need to know more about this. Can we compare stories?
Absolutely! Sorry– I just realized how to see these notifications… I am clearly not the brightest bulb. How shall we do this?
I have email or you could always write up a post and let me know when it’s finished.
“I’d place hiring a professional mistress somewhere between purchasing a boat and having plastic surgery.” Haha. Brilliant.
“In the end, who cares if you don’t understand it?” More brilliant. There were these studies done (so I’ve been told) that measured people’s fight/flight response by subjecting them to new information. Turns out, apparently, we react in the same way – doesn’t matter if it’s a tiger or an extra long derivative that only engineers deal with – if it’s new, it’s scary, and we fight, or we fly. Weird, hey?
Extremely. I want to know more about this study.
I think I remember who you are talking about; she was an awful human being, but I still kind of feel bad for her because I bet she will never figure out why she’s so unhappy and why she keeps surrounding herself with bad people.
There are no answers here, only questions. Even when I went to her home town to learn more I was left doubly bewildered.
I guess you got rid of the Harley – hard to keep a bike in a small NY apartment. Vintage, huh? Interesting.
The sex industry is fascinating. So many strange ways to make a living. And strange people to make a living from. I once met a man in a bar who wanted to pay me $700 to kick him in the head until he was unconscious.I would have done it if I was wearing sneakers and not heels. And didn’t think he might be a psycho killer.
Prostitution should be legal, exactly FOR the sad, unloved, lonely old men. Do you happen to know one, and if so, what is his net worth?
I traded it for a stripped down Suzuki.
Are you asking if I know a lonely old man or a gigolo?
Boom! No, a lonely old man. With a lot of money,,and a big house, with a staircase. Which I would conveniently leave a banana peel at the top of.
Gigolo? I’m not that hard up. Yet.
No. Shallow and selfish women have already beaten you to the punch for all of my older male friends with money.
I do know some older gents that have a lot saved up but live like they are on the verge of poverty (crummy home, not very nice clothes, modest car). I also know some single young guys that are up and coming in the business world and make good money.
My computer sneezed; I hope this isn’t a double post.
I don’t need a fix up; I’m this generation’s Mary Tyler Moore. All independent and stuff. You are behind in your emails, or you would know this. I also might be Rhoda, or Ted Baxter. I used to watch this show on Nick at Nite.
Shallow and selfish woman are faster than me, but they cannot bake cookies like I can. Boom!
Its really too bad you didn’t do it for the story.
There’s probably still time. There’s a lot I would do for a story but I’ve seen the list of activities on her website and some of them would require a very different mindset. I genuinely do not want devices placed into any part of my body. However, I suppose I could take a beating to see what the deal was.
yeah or even if not a beating I’m sure there are other things on the menu. but yes, it required a level of commitment. I’d like to think i’d be able to do it for the story, but it would really depend on the dom
You should go back and take her up on the offer just so you can write a follow up story to this.
I’m betting I’d have to finds someone else. We don’t really talk anymore.
Either way, I think I’d want to keep it pretty basic. A “urethral sound” and genital squeezing aren’t things I’d want for myself.
People are always different! :)
I’ve known many different characters over the decades and known my share of weirdos so nothing you’ve mentioned surprises me.
Can’t understand the pleasure from pain thing though… :(
God Bless!
Prenin.
Me either, Prenin. I’d give it a shot just for the sake of trying but I’m already pretty sure I wouldn’t be having a ball.
Awesome post, wonderful writing and what a mildly disturbing glimpse into that world. Just a job, eh? Every now and then someone tells me something that makes me look at men in a different way — and not a good way.
I think it’s a whole lifestyle for her. She’s got a very distinctive look and her social scene is particular to the fetish/goth world.
Also had a dominatrix roommate, though she wasn’t nearly as popular as yours seems to have been. I helped her install mooring rings to her wall one day.
Did she ever put things into people or cut them up a little? Mine expanded into that and it seemed pretty hardcore.
No, this would be the vanilla creme of that Oreo.
They probably get a good flogging AND have the yacht.
I dated a nymphomaniac for a short while. Every young guy’s fantasy. I can’t tell you how TEDIOUS it all became. Our sessions became about as passionate and joyful as a medical procedure.
Hey – I kind of want to read a post about that!
Sounds hot.
Just kidding.
As someone who lives near to you, and may know someone who does this… I think you can fix this missed opportunity! We can go together… And I’ll wait by the door to hear all about how it was once your boys can fit in a tube of toothpaste.
You had me, then you lost me at “tube of toothpaste.”
In fact, I don’t think I need my boys mangled at all. Just some light flogging is all I’m really interested in starting out with.
I agree. I don’t get it and don’t want anything to do with it, but so what? Since this is the Internet, it’ll sound extreme when I say legalize it, same with all currently illegal drugs. The latter will fix itself in about five years time. I don’t have any interest in narcotics, but I am for the elimination of the problem.
I knew if I searched hard enough I’d find more people like me on the internet.
Hello Kitty forehead Guy!! I only just saw him on somebody’s “worst tattoo’s ever” list last week – Hysterical!
He’s a real guy and, at the time, he was part of a amateur entertainment wrestling troupe somewhere in Ohio. Despite that being over five years ago, I think he still might be.
I found this video from 2012: