Archive for the ‘professional dominatrix’ tag

Thanks, Dr Belle

It was around 2003 or thereabouts when I took my first nervous stiletto-heeled steps into the world of Pro-Domming. At that time, I used to read a new blog by an anonymous London call girl called Belle de Jour.  Having learned that she had first started out as a Domme, I sent her an email asking for advice. She sent me back pages and pages of useful tips and we ended up writing to each other for quite a while about all sorts of things - but mostly about men, women, and horoscopes (I was going through a phase of avid skywatching after reading How To Spot A Bastard By His Star Sign). I used to talk to her about a woman I’d met (a Leo) who I’d fallen in love with, who I subsequently ended up going out with for a number of years, and for whom I abandoned by brief career in Pro-Domming within months of its genesis. Eventually, I lost touch with Belle. Her book followed, as did the Billie Piper television series, and a long time later, after my relationship with the Leo ended, I returned to Pro-Domming under the name I now use.

This weekend, Belle revealed her true identity as that of Dr Brooke Magnanti, a cancer specialist based in Bristol. The Daily Mail were about to run a story “outing” her after a tip-off from a vindictive ex-boyfriend, so Dr Magnanti beat them to it by approaching the Sunday Times herself. I never knew Belle’s true identity - I never saw any reason to ask. Yet I’m proud of her for coming forward as an intelligent, successful woman, and demonstrating that people who work in the sex industry don’t fit the stereotype that we are often hampered with in the media… I’m also very glad that she was able to get one over on the bastards at the Mail who lost out on their “exclusive” when one of their journalists was escorted off Dr Magnanti’s work premises by police… Most of all though, I’m grateful for the help she gave me in 2003 when I was starting out as a Pro-Domme. I’m not sure that I ever really thanked her properly, but I hope she knows how much I appreciate the invaluable contribution she made to the career I have now. Thanks, Dr Belle. Click here for the Guardian article.

Pros and Cons

People both inside and outside of BDSM have strong opinions about Pro-Dommes. It’s often said that when domination is paid for, it becomes a service industry. By accepting money from a client, the Domme is negating any authority she has over him and has to pander to his requirements, and is therefore a prostitute of sorts.

I can only speak for myself and the other Pro-Dommes I’ve worked with, but we get paid to do exactly what *we* want. The majority of clients who approach me for sessions are turned down. I could be very rich if I were to take on those whose fantasies didn’t interest me, or those who had the wrong attitude, or simply didn’t say please in their introduction. I live a financially modest lifestyle because I’m picky.

Otherwise, the sub would have control and the power dynamic would have become decidedly squiffy. It’s interesting to explore a client and discover where the sensitive points inside his (or her) head are, but ultimately, the Domme chooses what she wants to do in the session, and ultimately who she sessions with, and no cheeky bugger ever, ever, EVER gets to make demands of her. I’m willing to forego the mansion and the Bentley in favour of my own dignity.

The practical study of desire and excitement is something that beats in my chest, fills my lungs, and runs through my veins, and getting to live it full-time is a wonderful thing. If I became a scene purist and ceased to charge for sessions, I’d have to take on a vanilla job, and inevitably, no matter how far up the hierarchy I was, I’d have a boss. A boss! A boss who isn’t me! I’d be underpaid, knackered, and frustrated. Why on earth would anyone want to do that? That, for me, would be prostitution.

Sex and the Subby

It’s a question I’ve been asked on many an occasion by clients and potential clients, and one I don’t have a simple answer for. It’s a legitimate enquiry, and something that every straight-talking sub has a right to ask a professional Mistress. In this industry, we’ve all heard it at one time or another, haven’t we?

“DO YOU DO SEX?”

Well, do we? Firstly, what is sex? Bill Clinton had a hell of a time trying to define “sex” whilst trying to bluster his way out of the Lewinsky affair (as well as talking himself into a conceptual cul-de-sac by also trying to define the word “is”). There was a cigar, a spunky dress, and some songs by Sarah McLachlan. But was there sex? Ten years and a lot of speculation later, the world is still not entirely sure.

Many years ago, I had a debate with two music industry executives who denied that lesbian sex counted as “proper” sex. In their opinion, real sex had to involve a man, full penetration of a cock (made of flesh, not silicone), and a messy ejaculation of sperm to conclude the proceedings. They insisted that it’s not sex if the man doesn’t cum. I asked whether they considered it sex if the woman didn’t cum. They looked blank, perplexed perhaps by the idea of a female orgasm. I informed them that the majority of my own past experiences of what they considered “proper sex” would be entirely disallowed by that criteria, leaving only the encounters that did make me cum but didn’t involve a penis or any sperm - and so what did this make me? A sexually-prolific virgin?

So anyway, back to the question of sexual activities in a Pro-Domme session. Well, this is a difficult one, and I can only speak for myself here. Many Mistresses pride themselves on the “NO SEXUAL SERVICES” rule, and this I understand. After all, under current UK law, openly advertising sexual acts for money is technically illegal and, BDSM or not, would be classed as soliciting prostitution. Yet some would argue that any fetish is, in itself, sexual - even if all sets of genitals are left squarely out of the equation. Clients often ask if I get turned on during sessions. And I do, but it’s a different kind of arousal for me. It’s not a sexual thrill. It goes far deeper. When I go into Dommespace, I feel like my head is full of thunderstorms and I become God. The power is so intense that I glow like the ReadyBrek kid and I’ll be on a buzz for hours afterwards. Yet I rarely have the urge to actually do anything sexual with the sub, or with anyone for that matter. It’s like my brain itself is charged up with energy, and my body just wants to stand serene and blaze with light. A mindgasm perhaps?

Some other Mistresses or establishments offer a varied shopping list of activities, as if a person’s fetish for submission can be satiated by ticking boxes and having each service performed by rote. Yet no matter how naturally dominant a working woman is, her relationship with each client is different, and surely being expected to perform certain services indiscriminately takes away her choice, and ultimately her power. Many of the best overtly sexual domination scenes we see online are often those where the subtle interplay has developed between partners over a long period of time. This intimate level of interaction can’t just be summoned at will as soon as a sub walks in and demands it. As soon as a Domme feels obliged to do something she doesn’t particularly want to do, or has to do it with someone she doesn’t particularly want to do it with, then surely she is no longer truly in charge? If she does something merely to please the client and not herself, then something has gone rather awry in the pecking order. And of course, there is a market for this sort of pseudo-domination. There will always be the boys who get off on finding a dominant woman and overpowering her, albeit with money or demands rather than in a physical way. And there’s nowt wrong with it, if everyone involved is happy with that arrangement. Since the beginning of time, there have been those with a fetish for flipping the Domme, and good luck to them.

But I don’t work like that. As a Dominatrix, I am averse to following the orders of anyone, least of all a client. I can’t be bought. I do exactly what I want to do, and that could be just about anything. Instead of a sub requesting a series of actions for me to carry out (yuck - as if!), I like to burrow inside his psyche and find where the sensitive spots on his mind are. And what I choose to do with them? Well, it all depends on how I’m feeling at the time. There are sessions where I torture a client with a complete lack of physical contact, using hypnosis to ramp up the frustration to an unbearable level. And then, of course, there are the sessions where the sub will leave in a state of physical collapse, for one reason or another. It’s up to me. Nobody, no matter how much money he flaps in front of me, can tell me what to do. So in conclusion, there still isn’t really a straight answer to the initial question, but all I can say is this:

Q: “DO YOU DO SEX?”

A: “Oh my dear, dear sapling, I do exactly what I want to do, and you don’t even begin to get a say in it… Understood?”

Q: “Um yes.”

A: “Yes MISTRESS, you mean!”

Q: “Argh, sorry, ouch, yes Mistress.”

A: “Good.”

Whore Games FAQ

I have often wondered whether or not to publish a “Frequently Asked Questions” page about what I do for a living, as there are assumptions made with alarming regularity by those in the vanilla world. And why shouldn’t they, of course? They saw “Band of Gold” in the mid-nineties, and how different can it be to what I do, right? There was someone with a whip in it wasn’t there? Ha! Easy money then, surely?

I’ve decided, therefore, to write a transcript of a conversation I had recently outside a pub with a middle-class rugby type of about thirty who had just been informed about my career by a mutual friend. This will serve as the most thorough FAQ I could ever give.

Boy: So you whip people for money?

Me: It’s a bit more complicated than that.

Boy: Yeah, what, so you fuck them as well?

Me: Christ, no! Actually there’s very little physical contact at all. Fetish is a much more cerebral thing. It’s about manipulating that spot in someone’s mind that makes the pulse race and the electrical signals crackle across the brain like a violent thunderstorm. Fetish is that rollercoaster thrill that’s about far more than sex.

Boy: Huh? So what do you have to do for them?

Me: I don’t HAVE to do anything. EVER. I’m in charge. I find it so much fun to pick apart exactly what excites and terrifies them, and why, and then I often intensify this with hypnosis. Depending on what makes the person tick, I may bring in a bit of torture, humiliation, or any number of other factors. It all depends on the individual and what I think will make the adrenaline flow and the skin begin to tingle. This sort of arousal happens a lot higher up than the cock. I do brain porn.

Boy: But you’re a prozzie, right?

Me: No. You’re drunk, you daft bugger. I can see. You’re swaying. And you’ve lit the wrong end of that cigarette.

Boy: Huh?

Me: I’m no more a prostitute than anyone in any industry. In the past I’ve worked in sales, and in customer services, and in a whole bunch of other jobs where I’ve had to smile through gritted teeth, wear clothes I don’t like, and do what I’m told by people who aren’t worth the oxygen, and for a wage that isn’t worth waking up for. I’m not someone who likes to work for others, and for me to do so in any job would make me a prostitute as far as I’m concerned. By the way, do you want me to light that for you? It appears to be melting.

Boy: So you’re not a prozzie?

Me: No. I’m not. I admire people who go on the game through their own choice, but I just couldn’t do it myself. It’d be too much like all the other jobs I’d had in shops, in pubs, and in offices, and I’m too stubborn to go back to pleasing others for money. I work for myself now, and the customer is only right when I tell them that they’re right. As long as my clients need me more than I need them, the balance of power is exactly where it should be.

Boy: Oh bollocks! I’ve lit the wrong end of my ciggie!

Me: Yes. You have.

Boy: Shit, shit, shit! Dave, can I have another fag?

(For those across the pond, “fags” are English slang for “cigarettes”. In the past, this has led to some entertaining misunderstandings, but that’s at least one story for another day. At this point, the boy’s fellow drunken rugger bugger emerged from the doorway.)

Other Boy: What?

Boy: Gimme a fag.

Other Boy: Who’s this?

Boy: She whips people for money.

Me: Well actually, it’s a lot more complicated than-

Other Boy: How much for a handjob?

Me: Oh fuck off Dave.

(Ms Slide exits stage left)

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