From office to strip club…

The summer I sold tequila on the nude beach I met two young women who were pretty but did not look like what I thought strippers should look like. They encouraged me to visit them at the strip club where they worked as non-contact private dancers (that means that they danced in front of a man but there was no physical contact between them). I found the whole thing intriguing but felt I was ‘above’ being a stripper. I had been using my big beautiful brain and purposefully not using my looks most of my adult life.

I reluctantly took an office job which I hated. I felt it was time for me to go back to being a responsible adult after my six months of travel and summer on the nude beach. Months past and I was bored so I looked for a bigger challenge. I found a better office job in outside sales and I worked my tail off for three months. I wasn’t given a sales quota as they expected new sales people to sell basically nothing the first quarter as they learned. I was aggressive and sold more than most of the seasoned sales staff, people who had been there for years. At the end of the probation period, they fired me. I was so shocked I laughed. I thought it was a joke. They explained that they wanted to build a company that was like a family, they wanted staff that would stay for the long term. I was so ambitious they figured I would just use them as a stepping stone and be onto something bigger in less than a year. I suppose they were right.

It was May 18 and I knew beach season would be starting up again soon. I was relieved to be free of the office world. I also decided to do something impulsive. I bought a wig and some slutty cloths. I went into the strip club and applied for a job as a private dancer and was hired immediately. I didn’t know anything about this world, this culture and I made some serious mistakes…but I knew how to sell and that’s what I did. I worked the room and I sold private dances. I was unstoppable. The customers loved me. Everyone else hated me. They thought I was cheating, charging less, ‘undercutting’ the other girls. It was untrue. I was charging more. I made more money than I had ever made but feared for my safety every night. It was a rush. I was someone else, disguised, a sexual vixen, desired by men, hated by women. I had all the power. The men weren’t allowed to touch me, they weren’t allowed to jerk off. I didn’t touch them. They could just look at what they could not have. I knew they would think about me later, when they were with their wives or girlfriends or when they were alone. I knew some of them probably jerked off in the bathroom or in their car after. I got off on their lust. I had a lover that I went home and fucked every night and every morning. All that sexual energy, I was like a cyclone.

This lasted for only four short months but it was enough time to save up for a down payment for a condo. I could have kept going but a violent, dangerous situation finally made me fear for my safety enough to leave that place. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened. I was not safe there.

I realize there are those who may be quick to judge and compartmentalize…saying that I’m less of a Domme for having experimented with submission (previous blog entries) or that I’m not worthy of respect because I was a stripper. I know too well the stigma that is attached to that profession. I encourage you to look at the individual and the unique set of circumstances before passing judgement and painting everyone with the same brush. This is the story of how I became who I am today and no one can deny that I am a very successful Female Dominant. In the words of the great Shrek, “I’m like an onion, I’ve got layers.”

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The Naked Truth

BDSM beginnings…

While I was working as a receptionist at that big company in my early 20’s a coworker introduced me to an interesting website. I think it was called “Bianca’s Woods” or something like that. It was a place where people could write sexy stories and post them for others to read.

Most of the stories were the usual sort of thing but one story really caught my attention. It was a long story written from a woman’s perspective. She needed work and took a job as a maid/servant in a fancy mansion. She sensed something was unusual there but couldn’t place it. When she finally met the owner of the house and her real boss she was so nervous she spilled his drink. He took her over his knee and spanked her. What followed was a slippery slope of events that climaxed in a very intense scene…she was prepared, presented, strung up, stimulated, and fucked by a group of people. The interesting part was that it was all written from HER perspective, and it was very consensual. The reader could ride the emotional roller coaster with her, her shame, her wrestling with this side of herself, her giving into it, etc. There were various elements of BDSM, electro stimulation, pain & pleasure and in the end, even a dog!

The same author wrote other stories, all from the woman’s perspective. Her struggle with giving herself, submitting.

I found this theme very exciting. Submission. Control. Domination. Pain & pleasure. I wanted to explore but I didn’t know how…but just like most, I found my way, didn’t I? *grin*

A couple years later I was in San Fransisco with a platonic male friend. I asked the concierge at our hotel to recommend a place that would blow my mind. All I wanted was an address, no other info. We ended up at ‘The Power Exchange”. If you’re familiar with this place now, understand that it was very different 12 or 13 years ago when I first went. I’ll describe it:

The Power Exchange was a live sex/BDSM kink club. The first room we walked into, hearing loud music coming from somewhere beyond, was a medieval themed room with a big wooden table & fireplace…and a huge viking looking man flogging a women tied to a cross…her male partner on the other side of the cross kissing her and stimulating her front. It was a powerful introduction and I watched in awe for the first time, someone being flogged and whipped. Each time she was struck her body moved so beautifully.

We continued on and each room we entered offered more to overload my senses. Cages, peep holes, a room full of TV’s playing porn movies, people masturbating, people fucking, people watching, people being Dominated…a women lying on a bed with about a dozen men fondling her…eventually we came across a scene that many others were watching. A beautiful woman was tied to a cross being punished by a somewhat mean looking man dressed all in leather. She was instructed to explain to the crowd why she was being punished: she had burnt his toast that morning. A rumble of laughter went through the crowd and I smiled too. That’s when he looked directly at me and asked if I wanted to come into the scene.

I didn’t even turn to look at my poor, freaked out friend, I just slide under the chain and into their space. They both quickly explained that this was all consensual, explained safe words, etc. He handed me a vibrator and instructed me to touch it to the cloths pegs that were attached all over her nipples, breasts and pussy. I loved the way she reacted. She was very animated & vocal. She kept looking me in the eye and smiling between screams of pain. He then put a rubber glove on my hand, lubed me up and instructed me to fist her. I did and it was like having the whole world in my hand. By now the crowd had grown to dozens, all watching the naive newbie play in public for the first time. I must have been quite the sight.

I realize at this point I have your full attention but I also understand that attention spans are short these days so I will leave it there for now and continue later. There is more, oh-so-much more *grin*.

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Decending into the depths of depraivity