Things I Am NOT Saying About Professional Dominants

As a follow up to my last post on the subject of dominatrices VS non-professionals, I’ve also been trying to share more of other people’s writings on the subject and make this more of a conversation, including on twitter. And of course I’m getting pushback because people think I dislike or don’t believe in professional dominants. This happens every time you try to talk about the pro/non-pro distinction, so I’m going to try to make a definitive response to the subject right here.

Professionals are not fake. Please stop writing to tell me about how they are also all “lifestyle” and real and put their heart and soul into the job. This is not about bashing pros, it’s about making a distinction, and I’m going to use a metaphor to explain this.

When you go to a restaurant, the business employs staff who are (ideally) personable, friendly and enjoy the environment. It’s also perfectly possible to make real friends with a waiter, as well as them just being nice to you as part of the job. Similarly the atmosphere of the venue may be fantastic and fun. It may have been founded by someone who truly loves food. But the main purpose of a business is to generate revenue.

If you go to my house, you should NOT have the same expectations as you do for a restaurant, even if eating might take place there. That doesn’t mean I’m anti-eating out. However it is frustrating to be solicited like I’m a professional dominant, much like most people who enjoy cooking are not expecting someone to come to their home and expect to be handed a menu, tell them what to cook out of selection and send it back if they don’t like it. Both a professional chef and I want delicious food. Some chefs work really hard to replicate the home cooking experience, and some home cooks try to replicate restaurants.

But I don’t have the same concerns of mass appeal a restaurant does. My home is not set up with a little podium out front where a person seats you and tables laid out to place friends and strangers in a suitable level of sorting. It is not relevant in the least if in fact dinner is eaten in bed while watching Jessica Jones, or that breakfast for me was a little packet of tasty french chocolate cookies (or in Wildcard’s sake, an ensure meal replacement, because food and him don’t really get along until 10 AM). I *could* make an eggs and bacon and ham and beans and home fries like the little breakfast place we go to sometimes (albeit after 10 AM). But we do what makes us happy, not what the restaurant has to do to get people in the door.

Wildcard and I might cook for other people, but although we want them to enjoy our food, if you try to complain to me that Wildcard didn’t smile enough when he put your plate in front of you or forgot your water, shall we say that you can expect a very different response than if your waiter did either and you complained to the manager.

Now some professionals have the luxury of either naturally being what people want, or choosing their clients so selectively they don’t have to think about it. But this is not going to be the norm, anymore than most restaurants get to be that picky about who they take money from.

When I complain about being treated like a professional dominant, I am in the same metaphorical position as a person who has idiots banging on her door asking to be seated,  wondering why I’m not wearing an apron and a hair net, and who come to dinner expecting a menu and choice of soup or salad.

I know many people who work in sex work, and many of them, from escorts to dominatrices, enjoy the job. They picked that out of many options to make money as the best fit for them, much like some of the friends I know who work in food service are there because it suits them (hell, I know more happy sex workers than waiters). But I can confidently say that if any of their clients decided that paying them was not needed because they were such good ‘friends’ they would stop being friends at all.

Both professional dominants and non-professionals don’t want our partners to be jerks. We thrive when we like what we do. But professionals don’t just offer the option of being open to a wider range of people, the nature of the business is that they make certain concessions for the revenue side of things. They wear the clothes that get you off, they play out particular scripts that work well for the client.

And if you come to me expecting these scripts I’m going to be fucking pissed off, because as a non-pro, my fantasies and scripts are just as valid as yours. And i you’re one of these people, you’ve been trained by your expectations that I just want what you want (for a small fee).

B-but, Miss Pearl I don’t feel like she’s using me for my money! My dominatrix made me shoot rainbows out my butt! We have a connection!

You imbecile. She *earned* that money. She deserves it. How can so many of you nodcocks be so gungho about the whole pro thing and then turn mealymouthed and queasy at the idea of someone earning money? You have a connection because of your money and you are (I hope) compensating her fairly because you are not a cheat. Have some self respect.

When Wildcard wanted to know if he liked being spanked for real, on his terms, he had an experience with a professional rather than trying to coerce random women into playing it out for free. It was a super great thing all round- she created the atmosphere and wielded the implement- he got the benefit of exactly his fantasy. You’d have to be some sort of moron to think that this sort of polite, respectful transaction is the same thing as my home life. Do both activities push his happy sub buttons? Yes! But they don’t push *mine*.

And therein is the problem, the scripts and assumptions of professionals are chasing away women who might want to otherwise identify as dominant. When the world acts like you don’t exist, or that the distinction is to be an amateur with all the ramifications (or at best some sort of philanthropist) you create a world that marginalizes the sexuality that does not serve men, or to be specific, a certain subcategory of men who are prepared to pay for sex work (from dominatrix-through-to-porn). This is not something professionals are doing to non-pros. This is not something all male subs are doing to dominant women. Indeed there is more of accident than conspiracy going on here.

But it is a thing. And maybe if we worked on a solution there would be more porn and more female doms. And more happy people overall. Hell, imagine a world where male subs stopped being a default client. How hot would it be to be so good at serving female desire they paid you?

Not All Femdoms Are Sex Workers

Once again, an innocent question from a redditor reminds me of one of the problems that comes with being a non-professional dominant. Or really any conversation about femdom. I get messages from people in my inbox (I guess I seem authoritative) of various sites and this is not an unusual occurrence. Sometimes it’s a guy trying to book a session. In this case, he was neither impolite nor unpleasant, but it’s my daily reminder that the thing that I do is not perceived as functioning the way I do it – to the larger world, femdoms are sex workers by default.

Random Reddit Dude:

Hi, I stumbled upon your reddit domme post and Im abt to go to my first domme in a few weeks and am really excited I have a couple questions on how to tell if its a legitimate dome or not. [ad from back pages] This is the domme im going to and so far so good been emailing her a couple days she requires a screening process in which i have to refer to two dommes before but since this is my first time I couldn’t do that so instead her other request for new subs is for 100$ gift card (which is the cost for half the session) be sent in advance and I give her the other 100$ in cash. We talked a few days and I think she is legit but what are your opinions?

Me:

Okay…

You know not all female doms are sex workers? I couldn’t possibly tell you about this because I don’t sell sexual services. Sorry, I could no more advise on this than a vanilla woman knows how to choose escorts.

Random Reddit Dude:

its not a sex worker, shes a domme though? Its not an escort I was just asking since you are a domme.

Me:

If you are paying her, she is a “sex worker”. Although the laws of your region may vary about what is and isn’t considered prostitution, and she may only sell beatings, lifestyle dominants do not charge any money, not gift cards, not Paypal, not cash in hand.

And thus went the conversation, with me patiently explaining that indeed *anyone* you found out of the “backpages” was going to be selling a service, and that sex work includes a broader range of activities than explicitly getting to come. I’m very pro-sex worker’s rights. I want complete legalization, and training for law enforcement to protect them, and supportive social programs that affirm their choices while keeping them safe, as they are a commonly exploited and endangered population. But I can only be an ally- shilling erotica, while next door to sex work, carries none of the stigmas and risk so I’m not going to define myself as a spokes person for people who take on this challenging profession.

But as a female dominant I am SO FUCKING FRUSTRATED. Both at the assumption that I don’t really exist and that professionals are the norm, and that my relationship with my partners, even as a non-pro, follows the guidelines of a professional- a session in which a male partner provides some sort of compensation in exchange for the parts of my dominance he actually wants. If it’s not cash, he’s cleaning my floor. Never mind that dominance experienced is a reward in and of itself.

I admit when I first started writing and thinking about this, I suffered from a bit of whore-phobia, not at sex workers, but to their clients. I guess I was frightened that guys who availed themselves of the services of sex workers would see every interaction as transactional. In practice, not so much, in one’s personal life the distinction tends to play out more the way a massage at home VS a massage from a therapist do. But in the global picture, non-professional (and I still chafe at calling myself ‘lifestyle’) dominants are eclipsed by the attention paid to professionals to the point that femdoms are sex workers in the default of popular imagination. You also tend to get this weird idea that selling dominance gives you different independence- the professional dominant, rather than being a person playing a character, shows up in popular media like that’s the entirety of her personality and she has figured out the secret of getting paid to do what she loves because she is just so amazing. Sherlock’s Irene Adler was a typical bad cliché of this theme, a stomping one dimensional psychopath who used people, who couldn’t actually just have real power but needed to be a professional to give her sexuality legitimacy. Other than that, female dominants who aren’t doing the thing as some sort of job (you might also get wicked lady police or bad guy characters in leather) are invisible, or it’s a punch line, or at best doesn’t extend as far as her sexuality. Unsurprising in a world where female orgasms are censored as more dirty by film boards, and one major romance publishing house historically refused to publish anything that didn’t have M/f overtones, but still a very annoying thing to experience.

It’s gotten a bit better- media is a lot more open about pandering to a broader range of female interests, but nonetheless, here we are, female dominants who have no interest in treating their partners like clients scraping around the edges of our own kink. “Just asking, since you are a domme!”

And because female dominance is laced with this stereotype, women who would otherwise be into BDSM style activities are turned off- not only do the majority of the guys who identify as submissive (or as a switch) getting their information from a world that thinks F/m is #givemoneytowomen writ large, but even among those who don’t want to pay, the attitude is that they’re still booking a session. I don’t want to follow the script of an 19th century gentleman hiring a “governess” to pretend for a couple of hours that she is his superior, I want sexuality that takes more than my need to feed myself into account. Instead I get guys who think I exist on the same continuum as people who are incredibly skilled at getting him off as a vocation.

Fuck that noise, we desperately need our own space that is not about appreciating porn stars and professionals. We need room to develop our own tropes and expectations outside of someone who charges by the hour to act disgruntled in highly specific lingerie. Yes, among our tiny minority of F/m women, some of you genuinely like acting like Mistress Whiplash as your power fantasy, but until this is more about us and less about the exchange of good, cash and serves for services, we will remain invisible and hide in the #whump communities on tumblr and other little pockets that pander to us.

Elust #76 – Article Share!

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Photo courtesy of Charlie in the Pool

Welcome to Elust #76

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing,

relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #75? Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Sex and the post-birth vagina

Lonely Things

Just the two of us

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Tiny, shiny, bity snaps of steel…

I have fallen in and out of love with myself

 

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

I had An Abortion

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and

the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Erotic Fiction

The End of the Run
Ladies Who Lunch
kink of the week: dirty panties
Release
Brutal Nights
Because I Knew I Shouldn’t
Erotic Fiction: “Everything”
Look, Don’t Touch
As one night ends…
String Quartet
Unmasked: Part 1: The Gift
The Secret Rolls

Erotic Non-Fiction

The lick of love.
Tickle & Tease
Oral Sex, Don’t Forget Oral Hygiene – Whoops!
Feed my senses
Camming With A Foot Lover
Finding the Edges
Word power
The Mail Room
Doing It Herself

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

I Had An Abortion
The 7 Dimensions of Cock

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

When I Thought the Scene Was Done
Introducing the Abject Kitten, Part 2
The Joy of Fear
Talking About BDSM With Your Therapist
On Denial (and topping from the bottom)

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

I Did It My Way
Two
Fuckin With Fuck Boys Part II
You don’t need my permission to fuck my lover
Undercovers

Writing About Writing

The Hunt for Adult/Sex Friendly Businesses

 

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Spank, Ruin His Orgasm, Make Him Scream

The hickey made a trail up my neck, a line of purple-red dots showing where an evening of pure pleasure for my body had left a very obvious and unprofessional mark on his Miss. Wildcard was in trouble. Big trouble.

We’d had a lazy, sexy Sunday evening, and I only discovered the result the next day in the office bathroom. At the time I warned him to be careful, so spotting the marks, my urge was to take down his pants and paddle him pink as soon as I got home. Nonetheless, I decided to save it up for his official punishment day, to give him a chance to anticipate. And of course, give Wildcard time to contemplate his own fate and you can cue the smart mouth. I think it’s instinctual, since this is the guy who can end up in the hospital with internal bleeding and crack jokes with the nurses. Nevermind, more things to ‘punish’ him over! >:)

He likes it best when it feels like he deserves the spanking. I’d never actually hit him if I was genuinely upset, but we play with funishment, mock scoldings and unavoidable consequences. “It can’t be helped, rules are rules!” is his kind of dirty talk.

But when Tuesday happened, despite an ever increasing aroused warmth in my genitalia, his backtalk was gone and he was a little small feeling asking for pettings first, that’s not a bad light ramp into a nice dominant buzz. I’m opportunistic- I don’t need to beat the crap out of someone to feel in charge. A little snuggling and some positive affirmations and the sass was back. He actually swatted my butt! That was the last straw. I shoved him face down on the bed and began to wallop him, pulling down his black boxer briefs.

I intended to make this a long session, so I started light, escalating until even my palm was starting to burn, switching off hands for maximum coverage. You can go two ways with a spanking, vicious and hard for something quick, or a gradually building heat. I wanted to really get his attention and leave a lasting impression, so I aimed for the latter.

With a good warm up, his bottom needs a little extra encouragement. After he’d got a rosy glow going, I switched to the concentrated snap of a crop. That pink in his cheeks became a decided red, and his customary insolence was, for once, silenced.

After the wicked punishment on his ass was done, I made him stand in the corner with his underpants around his ankles while I snapped pictures of him on my cell for some extra humiliation and some later nostaligic enjoyment. While catching some close ups, I noticed he seemed a little inflamed, and because I’m a nice femdom it was time to do a little care and restoration.

I made him get on all fours and put his pert ass in the air on display, to rub a palmful of cool baby oil oil onto his griddle hot, reddened ass. Of course his dangling cock and balls became too difficult to resist and very quickly I had him spread legged and milked erect until he was moaning. Every time I noticed his breathing getting heavier I taunted him that he could lose control, but I would only ruin his orgasm for him.

What’s a ruined orgasm, femdom fans? That’s when the cum spurts but the stimulation is cut off, leaving the victim still horny, often with a long wait until they are desensitized enough to come again (or at all). I made Wildcard lie on his back with his legs hanging off the bed, to give me better access to his vulnerable body. I have a technique I developed: just as he tenses up, I take my hand away and then spider them up his stomach and ribs.

Alternating tickling fingers and brisk but slippery stroking I managed to not only get him so rampantly erect he’d put a porn star to shame, but milk his thick (sorry guys, no sph here!) cock into spurts of cum all over his belly- ruined orgasms without the wait between. By the time I finally gave him his release he was screaming, drenched in his own semen and completely and utterly drained dry.

And that was a perfect #PunishTuesday. Yum.