Before I begin, I’ll point out that I’ve added a ‘subscribe’ box at the bottom of this page. You can subscribe and get an email notification when I add a new entry. I’m new to blogging so if anyone has tips or advice please send them to: MsT@MistressT.net


In my last entry I mentioned that I had saved up enough for the down payment for a condo but qualifying for a mortgage was another story. I needed to get a job that looked good to the bank. It was back to office work for me. I’ll tell you in advance that this was the last office job I had and it lasted just over 1 year even though I only needed to work there for a few months to qualify for a mortgage and buy my condo. I hated it, so why did I stay? I can’t answer that, fear I suppose. Since meeting that beach boy on the nude beach years before I had struggled to follow a path not taken. I was afraid of course, of not having a regular pay check and all the security that comes from working for other people. Let me tell you, do not take entrepreneurs for granite. It takes a certain bravery to do your own thing.

About a year into that job a new manager offered me a generous promotion. The new position would mean more time spent doing the job tasks I hated the most. It was a big step up but it hit me all at once how miserable I was. I turned it down and two weeks later I was fired. They said that although they’d love to have me stay they could tell I wasn’t happy and they were doing me a favor by giving me the push I needed to find what would make me happy.

I still resent that that’s how my office career ended. I wish I could say that it was me who was so self aware and brave that I made that decision. Instead, I was cowardly enough to stay at a job I hated until someone else shoved me out of the nest toward my destiny.

I bought another wig and called an agent. My first gig was on a slow Sunday night and I thought I would just be doing private dances. There had been a miscommunication and I was actually expected to do three stage shows that night. I had never danced on stage before. I didn’t have costumes, music or moves. The DJ helped me with the music and if you’d like a soundtrack to read this post to, this is the first song I danced on stage to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htNMqbDXAPg  Global Deejay’s The Sound of San Francisco. I stripped on stage in front of four sleepy patrons with my heart pounding in my chest. I loved it.

I starting working more full time at the friendliest and safest club in town. I liked it there and did private dances plus stage shows for a few months. I was dating a nice guy who is still one of my best friends. I was happy.

It was around that time that I formally met Samantha Mack. We had met informally months earlier, by that I mean we smooched at a fetish party but didn’t trade contact info. When she showed up to work at the club one night I thought I recognized her but it took a few days for me to speak up. We became fast friends and then lovers. Samantha eventually becomes a more prominent character in my story.

I’ll take a pause here to shamelessly promote Samantha as she is still a close friend and involved in lots of interesting things, including raising money for breast cancer research, being an advocate for the gay community, etc. etc. Check out her website: http://www.thesamanthamack.com

I got the travel bug again and went to Brazil and Argentina for two months. When I returned something had changed with my boyfriend and our relationship had become more of a friendship. I found myself looking for excitement. I went on Craigslist under ‘Casual Encounters’ (I had never done this before and am not even sure how I got the idea) and I found an ad that intrigued me. A man was looking for a nude house cleaner. Light housework, more for the voyeur aspect, no touching, paid. I know it sounds crazy, risky and even stupid, but it was thrilling. Remember, I am an exhibitionist first, almost everything else follows that. I went and it was just as he said. I cleaned the windows of his highrise apartment where anyone in other buildings could see me. He sat, clothed, reading a magazine and casually glancing at me. I then vacuumed in the nude and worked up a bit of a sweat. I loved it. He paid me then and said I was free to go. I asked if I could shower first, he asked if he could watch. That was fun, I put on a bit of a show for him in the shower, he paid me more. He then asked if it would be okay if he took a very close up photo of my vagina, only my vagina, not my face. I said yes. He paid me more. Then he asked if it would be okay for him to sit on a chair beside the bed and masturbate while I played with myself. He offered more money and frankly, the combination of the exhibitionism AND getting paid was so erotic that I climaxed quickly and with shocking intensity.

I went straight home and placed an ad for nude housecleaning with masturbation show. This was one of the most important events in my history. I started doing no-contact ‘voyeur shows’…I never cleaned another house although I pretended to clean a spotless yacht once. There was a huge market for this! Men who were looking for a bit of dirty fun, a bit of excitement but for one reason or another, they didn’t want sexual contact. Some had never been with an escort and would be too nervous to perform. Others didn’t want to feel like they were cheating on their partners and this felt okay to them. Some had erectile dysfunction. Some were so paranoid about sexually transmitted infections that no-contact worked better for them…and other reasons. I was skilled with the dirty talk. I have a filthy imagination and with just a few questions I could figure out how to push any man’s buttons verbally. They sat on a chair beside the bed and got themselves off watching and listening to me. I loved the power of it. I was in complete control.

Word got out on the internet and a gentleman who wanted to write a review asked what my stage name was. I didn’t really have one so he chose ‘Miss T’ and unfortunately it stuck and I became famous before I could figure out something better. I took as many bookings as I could handle and still turned away business every day. I had loads of positive experiences and met the most wonderful men. Was it safe? Well, nothing bad ever happened while I was doing ‘voyeur shows’. It seemed to attract a gentle, respectful type of man. I became friends with quite a few. They would take me for nice dinners, bring me thoughtful gifts, etc. It was less complicated back then and part of me wishes I could go back to that time but alas, even as content as I was, when the thrill started to wear off I started to look for the next rush…

Mistress T nude with boots

Probably taken after an orgasm...I look pretty happy!

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.”

MistressT Fetish FemDom Goddess lingerie

The Naked Truth

Story still paused: fan mail

I get a fair bit of fan mail, a lot of it rubbish…blathering, written I’m sure with one hand while the other is pumping a horny cock and I’d rather not repeat to anyone…but once in awhile I get something I feel proud of. In this case I only wish he had used better punctuation but I give it to you exactly as I received it:

hi mistress t. thanks so much for making another great mom-son themed vid. i must confess that the fetish is a big guilty pleasure of mine, and there’s nothing hotter than having you bring it to life and enrich it with your incomparable sexiness and poise. in this latest outing, there was once again so much to enjoy. for one thing, you looked incredibly hot in your outfit. it gave you a tormentingly immaculate and unattainably ladyish quality that fit perfectly for such an iconically sublime, ideal, holy, forbidden character as a mom. as well as that, i really appreciated the great camera views showing off the delights of your awesome body and your wealth of hot, taboo dialogue. the latter always plays such an important part in keeping alive the mom-son-context a scenario. your character also had a neat mix of demureness and chastity on the one hand, and sex and sensuality on the other. it made for a fine bit of mind-fuckery – always keeping the viewer in suspense as to whether they’re going to get some loving or be sent packing. you have that same quality in a lot of your vids in general. i think it’s very effective how you alternate between intimate sweetness and cold dismissal. it’s like you’ve combined the good-cop/bad cop rolled into one persona. when watching, it can sometimes feel like being petted with a velvet glove one moment, then swatted with an iron gauntlet the next.

~His email ended and my comments start:

I was reluctant at first to do ‘Mommy’ porn. For one, incest stuff is illegal in a lot of parts of the world…but as far as it being wrong, well, who am I to police the thoughts in a person’s head? Not even being maternal myself I have embraced my role as Mommy T. I receive the nicest email from fans of this genre & I can’t imagine them harming anyone. They tend to be the most respectful and gentlest of my perverts. I am clearly fulfilling a need so judge if you wish but remember: different strokes for different folks.

MistressT As MommyT

Don't mess with Mama T!

Story paused: FREE previews

I know some of you are dying to know what happened next in the journey that brought me here…but now is a good time to remind you of what the current ‘here’ is. So, have a look at my latest preview page (July Preview): http://www.mistresst.net/promos


By the way…I say the ‘current’ here as by the time I get the story caught up, who knows where I’ll be. I have recently turned down offers for a reality TV show (I don’t want to be THAT kind of famous.) but have accepted offers to do interviews…so who knows what’s next?

MistressT Fetish Goddess with leather glove and stiletto boots

Gloves, Boots & Bitch: perfect!

Free spirit

Shortly after San Fran & things ending with the judgmental boyfriend another life-changing event happened.

At that time I was proud of myself for landing a prestigious outside sales job. I had purposefully only taken inside sales jobs for years, doing my thing on the phone so that no one could say that I got by on my looks. Having had a lot of success just using my brain & my voice I decided it was time to use the rest of my assets. I leased a brand new car. I wore business suits. I took pics of myself in my business suit next to my brand new car and sent them to my Mother. I wanted her to be proud of me.

Friends took me to Wreck beach one day. It was a clothing optional beach and I had no problem gearing right down. It felt amazing to be nude outside, with the ocean breeze caressing my skin. A cute, blond surfer boy came along selling drinks. There was just something about him. His tanned skin, his disheveled sun bleached hair, his sparkling blue eyes and relaxed manner. I had to get to know him better.

I came back to the beach and pursued him. We had a hot fling and as I got to know him I was fascinated with his free spirit way of living. Early 30’s, hanging out at the beach making a simple living, partying a lot, traveling to exotic places in the winter for months at a time…he was the happiest person I ever met and it came through in the way he fucked. So present in the moment. So passionate.

He encouraged me to come down to the beach after work and sell tequila shooters at sunset for fun and extra cash. It seemed to be a crazy idea, selling tequila shooters nude, on a nude beach? Crazy was just what I needed. That summer there was a song that kept playing on the radio with a line that haunted me, “I think my life is passing me by…” Here’s a link to the vid/song: http://www.musictory.com/music/Sam+Roberts/Brother+Down

Summer was coming to an end and all I would have was a job that I actually hated. A job I was doing because I thought it would make my Mother proud. Even though, bless her, she always just said she wanted me to be happy. She also said that I was too entrepreneurial to ever be satisfied working for someone else.

I decided that I would go to India. I didn’t have much money saved but I would have just charged it on my credit card. A girlfriend invited me to go to Japan with her to make quick cash hostessing with her for a few months. She had done it before. It was long hours but easy, just pouring drinks, singing karaoke and making conversation. No sex, no stripping, no funny business. That was all true except it wasn’t easy. At least not for me. I felt like a slave. Management was very strict. It was a hard 3 months but it was an adventure and then I went to Thailand for a month and India for 2 months. Alone!

I could expand on what happened in those 6 months of travel. I have a lot of stories. But this isn’t a travel blog and I have a feeling that my readers are more interested in hearing how all this contributed to me becoming ‘Mistress T’. It started with meeting that beach boy who taught me that there are other ways to make a living and better ways to live your life other than just climbing the corporate ladder and conforming to other people’s rules. He taught me that it’s important to be true to yourself and to not care what people thought. Making a major life shift doesn’t happen over night. I rebounded back into the corporate world a couple more times before I left it for good. That beach boy has always been in my life, still is, to remind me to be true to myself.

The summer I returned from India was the best summer of my life. I sold tequila shooters every day at the beach. I partied a lot. I had 3 wonderful lovers on rotation. I slept with who I wanted when I wanted and there was no drama. I started attending fetish parties in Vancouver. I began to move in the direction of incorporating my sexual kinky side with my entrepreneurial side. I started to get braver, more confident, more self aware. A fire had been lite and it started to burn hotter, pushing me in the direction of becoming ‘Mistress T’.

MistressT beach bum

Mistress T: Beach Bum

More fun in San Francisco…

I kept in touch with the male Dom who I met at The Power Exchange…he who flogged me first. He invited me to come back and I can resist anything except temptation.

On one trip I brought my boyfriend at the time. This turned out to be a poor choice but a worthwhile learning experience, but I’ll get to that. First I’ll tell you about meeting the famous “Midori” ( www.planetmidori.com ) Among other things, she’s known for being the author of “The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage”. She was doing a rope bondage stage performance at a big fetish bash and I had the opportunity to help out behind the scenes body painting some of her victims/models. I got to meet her and received a signed copy of her recent CD of erotic stories. She was lovely and it was a thrill meeting someone so well known in the fetish community.

During this event I also had an opportunity to ‘bottom’ under some very talented Doms. I loved being strung up in front of a crowd. I was spanked, flogged and experimented on (electro-play, etc.). To be honest, I didn’t care for the acts (other than flogging) as much as I loved being watched.

I had been having my fun, checking in with my boyfriend from time-to-time. It was a big party, he was wandering off and coming back and I thought he was having a good time. I was deep in ‘sub space’ being flogged in front of a large crowd when I caught his eye and noticed something was off. I went up to him and asked. Things were NOT okay. He had just had enough of watching me ‘getting beaten’. He looked disgusted. People were watching us talk, they could read the situation. I was humiliated and ashamed. I felt like a freak for enjoying myself. I felt selfish for not realizing he wasn’t having fun. I was emotionally vulnerable after hours of ‘play and excitement’. It was like being dropped from a 10 story building. I just broke down.

That was about 10 years ago and I was not then who I am today. Now, at 35 I would likely not get myself into such a situation and if I did, I would react differently. Then, however, it was crushing. I cried in the cab all the way back to the hotel and cried all night. He did not try to comfort me. I felt like a disgusting human being for being into kinky stuff.

Obviously, we didn’t stay together, but that doesn’t even matter. The important lesson I learned was about emotion and the vulnerability of  ‘sub space’. It helped me later on to be a good Domme.

My journey in learning to accept my kinky side has not been a straight path. I had my set backs and uphill battles. Maybe you, my reader, have similar stories? I invite you to comment here if you like. I know I’m not alone in my love of kink anymore…you are not alone either *smile*.

MistressT Fetish Goddess