Experience? References? Certification?
I dove headfirst into BDSM in 1996 after a lover brought my innate dominant
nature to the surface so strongly that I knew I'd never be able to stuff
that roaring lion back in her box. I decided to apprentice at a commercial
dungeon a few weeks later because I couldn't think of any other way to feed
my fascination with all this freaky stuff. I wanted to find the most direct
route to acquiring the knowledge and skills I craved and hoped that studying
under proven experts was it.
It's rare to find dedicated, serious players in a commercial setting, and I
was incredibly lucky to have studied where I did. I was trained by a Master
with 15 years of training and experience in German dungeons. Beyond the
traditional education in techniques and aesthetics, my Master taught me to
respect my submissives above all else. I share his passion for perpetually
refining my craft.
Wanted: Friendly Lab Rats. Exercise Wheel Provided.
My approach to BDSM is a great way for me to test out my behavioral science
hypotheses. When I have an opportunity to condition a submissive, my
attention is fully engaged and all mental cylinders are firing. Conversely,
when a submissive tries to top me from below or otherwise cramp my style, I
can't wait to boot 'em out the door. The cherished pets with the limpid
control-group eyes and the 'do-with-me-as-you-will' attitude are almost
always kept around to play with for as long as respective schedules allow on
a given day. I can't overstate how much I value the trust, faith and
affection given to me by any submissive I play with, professionally or
personally. I feel very protective of my submissives' well-being and take my
responsibility for their welfare seriously.
Be Afwaid, Be Vewwy Afwaid.
Sure, it's possible I drugged the night staff on D Ward, used their computer
to put together this site, wrote a bunch of obnoxious drivel calculated to
bore to tears all but a select few and entice you into meeting me tomorrow
night in the alley behind the inmate cafeteria. It's possible. If you come
during visiting hours, I'd sure appreciate a carton of Winstons if it's not
too much trouble. Much obliged.
I have no intentions at all to do anything in a professional session that
could compromise my freedom, safety or reputation. I see no reward in
brutalizing another creature and damaging someone during a session would be
wicked bad customer service feng shui. The only agenda I ever have for any
session is to explore uncharted submissive territory and dig up any buried
treasure I find. Agendas are for scripted scenes, which feel artificial and
forced. I do my best to 'click' with a submissive early on, then use
whatever energy they give me to direct the ebb and flow of the scene. You
could use our interview as an opportunity to calibrate your bullshit
detector, but please don't ever agree to play with anyone if your gut
feeling about it isn't good.
A Kiss on the Hand Can be Quite Continental...
but like any other professional, Dominants expect to be compensated for
services rendered. Our first few sessions together will probably start at
$200/hour, and will be reduced when you've demonstrated your commitment to
me. If you respect the professional nature of our relationship and can
appreciate how cathartic, intense and exciting playing with me can be, I'll
always be happy to see you. I won't watch the clock or insult you with a
McSession, and you'll be given the highest priority on my calendar when I
know you can't wait a second longer to play with me.
Trannies and Switches and Bis, Oh My!
The fee referred to above varies based upon the intensity of the session and
the duration of our relationship, and only applies to sessions with me. If
you hope to schedule a session with myself and other dominant men or women
present, the fee would increase depending on the length of the session and
number of participants. If you are a switch or a fellow Dominant and would
prefer to play with a submissive under my supervision, that can also be
I will not eat it in a box, I will not eat it with a fox.
Gotta watch that cholesterol. If surfing the net has you fixated on
Dominatrix Barbies, you've probably conditioned yourself to respond to style
before substance. If my bra size concerns you more than my professional
freak certification, you're better off contacting an escort. Escorts might
not challenge or elevate you, but if you can only reach nirvana by watching
someone in black spandex work a pair of stiletto heels like a demon, mazel
tov and bon voyage to you. If you want to see my wickedest grin, ask as
politely as possible if I will give you a hand job. Watching you bounce on
your butt a few times before skidding to a halt in the street will put
stretch marks in my cheeks.
Collar or Noose? Decisions, Decisions.
What I put around your neck depends on whether you're just trying to
schmooze a free session when you ask to be my personal slave, or if you
might genuinely thrive on being a 24/7 declawed slave kitty for a big game
hunting bitch like me. I'm less fussy about choosing lovers than personal
slaves and would rather keep the pets I've already housebroken than have to
start from scratch with feral additions. Keeping the population down saves
on kibble, too. The slaves I've hunted and trapped for my private menagerie
have been male, female or something mouthwateringly ambiguous. They've been
highly intelligent, creative, artistic, gregarious, balanced people with the
strong sense of humor and teflon hide it takes to be around me for any
length of time. If I'm going to seriously consider you as a personal slave,
we'll play a few times on a professional level and see if sparks fly.