Friends

Why I’ve Never Gone To A Pro-Domme..Why I Might Someday

It’s one of the more common questions that people ask me:

“Why don’t you go to a pro?”

The answer is long and nuanced but the biggest reasons are as follows.

-Being wanted:

I want to be wanted, taken, desired, owned, even if it’s for a short time. If I went to a pro, I’d be admitting to myself that I couldn’t find someone who wanted me because I’m desirable, even for a short time. It would be a very hard thing to admit to, knowing that the only way was to pay someone. I also know that it would only be part of the equation. There would be many things that I’d never experience with a pro, like fucking ourselves silly and cuddling after a really intense scene.

-Pleasing:

The last thing I’d want is for someone to play with me if she didn’t want to or wasn’t in the mood. Nor would I want her to do anything to me that she didn’t love. The fact is, I’m sure she has better things to do than play with me. I always felt if I really wanted to please her, I’d just hand her the money and leave. Considering that I know more professionals who are submissive than dominant in their personal lives, this seemed to be obvious.

-Money

I’m not a wealthy guy. If I did go and really liked it I’d want to go again…I’d want to go every day but could probably only afford to go three times a year. I won’t lie though, in moments of extreme desperation I think I may have gone if I had the money.

There will probably be a day when I do start going to a pro-domme. As the possibility of meeting someone slips further and further away I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time.

Three years ago the very idea of Pro-Dommes was one that I never would have considered. Every professional I imagined was just a stripper who held a whip. Everything she knew about BDSM came from softcore porn. They’d lie cheat and steal just to make a buck (I had been tricked by one before and it left a bad taste in my mouth). At least that’s what I thought. I was wrong.

My first “really?” moment was when I met someone was once a pro and was dominant in her personal life too. She’s smart, funny, someone who I went out on a few dates with. It didn’t take me long to realize I was wrong about putting professionals into one big group. She’s now one of my best friends and someone I love dearly.

Later I briefly met someone who once again confirmed that there were professionals who were passionate about the lifestyle. Hearing her talk it was obvious that was as much a spiritual thing for her as it was physical. I googled her shortly after meeting her at a friends party (I think I may have even emailed her to say hi in hopes that she’d email back saying “hey I’m single, let’s date”). Reading her blog was eye opening. If you have a chance to read Mistress Yin’s journal you’ll see what I mean.

Troy Orleans is another professional that makes me think there should be a different term for the word. “Pro-Domme” can mean such a wide variety of people. She has this classy and confident vibe about her. When you read her blog you imagine her typing it from the edge of her seat with a big smile on her face as though she knows something you don’t. She probably does.

MVX is smart and funny as hell (I almost said as a whip but that would be too….obvious) and the few times I’ve hung out with her, she seems like someone who really enjoys taking a bite out of life. On top of that, she’s an incredibly nice person and knows more about fine dining than I’ll ever know in my lifetime. Every time I’ve discussed food with her she’s mentioned dishes that I’ve had to google. Again, did I mention she’s smart? I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a MENSA membership hiding in her purse.

Calico is…well….Calico is Calico. Read her blog. Nuff Said. She seems so comfortable, confident and well… fierce. Even when she’s quiet and not saying anything it can be a bit intimidating.

After meeting people like these I’ve realized not all professionals are cut from the same cloth. While my ideal experience would be with someone I’m sexually involved with, the ability to at least know what it’s like to experience certain things might make up for it.

There are things I want to do before I die and I’ll probably have to pay for all of them. I want to see the world and as much as I’d like it if the airlines wanted to fly me for free because they like me and WANT to fly me to exotic locations, it’s not realistic to expect it.

Table For Seven Please

I’ve got six of my close friends from back home coming to visit for the weekend.

Three married couples.

The seven of us used to spend a lot of time together and this will be the first time in five years we’ve all been in the same place at the same time.

Back in the midwest they were constantly hounding me because I was always single, only having sexual flings. )Now, five years later, nothing has changed.

I almost feel like this would be a good cheesy date movie. You know the kind, where I hire a woman to pose as my girlfriend in front of my friends and she falls for me in the end.

So, we’ll walk all over Manhattan this weekend. They’ve asked me to go to the usual places I hang out but you and I know I can’t really take them where I’d usually hang out.

They’ll meet my new NYC friends, all of my close ones who know about me, the real me. They’ll probably have some questions, why I’m still single and my friends in-the-know will give me a smile and make up some excuse on my behalf.

I love my friends from back home, but the idea of a submissive guy looking for a dominant woman would probably be a bit much for them so I’ll keep it to myself as I always have. A good friend suggested I take them to SMACK on Saturday night and just tell them that it’s what all NYC parties are like. I might, I’ll judge the vibe.

We’ll eat a lot, debate politics (finally I can be a liberal with a home court advantage), drink many beers and laugh until we cry. They women will go to a broadway show and the guys will go have drinks on their behalf. The guys will ask about my sexual conquests and I’ll give them a few stories while leaving out my favorite parts. We’ll have a good time.

It will be great to see them. I’ve missed them. Maybe seeing three happily married vanilla couples will rub some of the vanilla off on me.

Why I Canceled On You

I read this post about a dominant woman who’s date flaked out on her. I’ll admit, I’ve canceled on women once or twice, but not due to a lack of interest.

It was because of my priorities.

One time in particular:

I had admired her long legs from afar for a very long time and after a few drinks we started talking. It was casual and relaxed. Somehow we got on the subject of sex and dating.

I could tell she was vanilla. I could just tell. Not vanilla in a bad way. Just vanilla, but her legs and body were too much for me to resist. My mouth was watering.

I pushed the conversation a bit further, after all, she was ‘nilla and in this situation, I was the more experienced of the two sexual players. I was confident because I had nothing to lose. Worst case scenario, I’d miss out on vanilla sex.

Missing out on vanilla sex is like missing out on a rerun of Seinfeld on TV. You know you’ll get another chance to see it very soon if you want to.

She had go run off with her friends but we exchanged phone numbers.

Two nights later I was on my way to her apartment. She wanted to call my bluff when I said I’d be happy to go down on a woman and not get anything in return..

I was early (I’m an eager beaver) and sat in a starbucks to relax for a bit.

One of my best friends sent me a text message. She needed my help. She needed emotional support and she needed it now.

I know if I had told her my situation she would have understood and met me later. In fact she probably would have encouraged me, but I couldn’t do that.

I told her I was on my way and not to worry.

I sent the woman with the legs a text apologizing and trying to explain the situation. I tried to contact her the next day but never heard from her again.

I still wonder what it would have been like if I did meet up with her. I know it wouldn’t have been more than a fling.

Friendships, good ones, last a lifetime.

I’m usually the go-to guy for a lot of people. I like being that guy. Most weeks are usually filled with helping friends with one thing or another.

This week is no different.

-Setting up a webpage for someone

-Helping someone buy a new computer

-Moving a couch from one apartment to another.

-Possibly setting up shelves for another friend.

-Troubleshoot why one friend can’t keep a wireless connection at her work.

I’m sure if my friend learned that I had passed up the opportunity for sex to console her she would have scolded me, told me I should have just sent her a text later. How do you do that? How do you deny a friend in need?

One person I know says I need to focus more on myself than others. She says I help my friends as a way to avoid focusing on myself.

Eh, who knows. I know this week is full. Maybe I’ll start focusing on myself next week.

I’m Submissive, Not A Doormat

I sometimes find myself needing to defend my masculinity.

Now and then I’ll come upon a situation where someone misunderstands my submission as something….hmm…less than manly.

I remember having drinks with someone, a guy friend..ok a guy acquaintance who had no idea that I was into BDSM. Somehow the subject of kinky women came up and how he once dated a woman who wanted to spank him and he thought she was a freak.

“Hell, if a woman wanted to do that to me, I’d let her” I grinned.

“What?” he shouted as though he was in disbelief that I was actually a guy.

“Sure I would, if she got off on that, why not? (I was downplaying how much I actually wanted it from a woman) I love it when a woman takes control”.

He started to go on, poking fun a bit that it was clear I was into that sort of thing. Not in a fun way but in a I’m-a-bigger-man-because-I-don’t-let-a-woman-take-control sort of way.

It may have been the beers, but I looked at him with a dead stare and said something along the lines of “I’ve done down on women you could only dream of giving you the time of day”. I should have added “you boring vanilla fuck”.

The conversation quickly changed. I don’t think we ever hung out again.

This idea that submissive men aren’t real men comes up from time to time.

As if I don’t initiate sex.

As if I can’t fuck, I can only be fucked.

There’s a group of married guys I hang out with from work. Good guys, I’d call them friends. Sometimes I am tempted to tell them all about myself but something always prevents me.

A little over a year ago I had a bite mark on my arm. They made a few comments while we were having beers. They made a few jokes about it. I wanted to shut them up so I raised my shirt to show them a few other marks. Their mouths dropped and I said something like:

“I slept with an amazingly aggressive woman last night, we both came until we passed out. Maybe next month when you can convince your wives to have sex with you, you’ll hope she does the same”.

Ok maybe it wasn’t that mean. Whatever I did say, they shut up about it and now I feel they’re living vicariously through me since I’m the single guy with all the female friends.

I can only tell you that I feel more masculine after submitting like that. It makes me feel stronger not weaker. I don’t know why it makes me feel stronger but it does. If anything it makes me feel weaker when it’s not there.

Sperm Donor

I’m still in a bit of a haze after I was asked a very important and heartfelt question this weekend.

One of my best friends asked me if I would be a sperm donor.

My first thought was flattery of course.

The next thought was “will it be the natural way?” (she and I haven’t ever crossed that line so I was curious..plus I’m a perv)

She laughed when I asked this and said “No, but if it helps I’ll spank you while you cum in the cup”.

One of the first questions I asked was…why me?

She had narrowed it down to a few people but I was on the top of the list. Her reasons?

“You have good genes, you’re healthy, you’re tall, you’re attractive. I figure if it’s a girl, she’ll be tall and beautiful, if it’s a boy he’ll be tall, attractive and have a good sized cock”.

More flattery.

“Plus, you’re a good person.” (Person shmerson, I was still surprised she thought I had a good sized cock, not to mention that it would be a factor in picking a possible biological father)

She made it clear that the physical characteristics were only a small part of if. It’s who I am that made her ask me.

I’m still amazed and flattered she would ask.

On one hand I really want to help my friend, not just because she’s a dominant woman, but because she’s my friend and I want her to be happy.

On the other hand, when a woman asks “Do you have any kids?”, how would I answer?

“Well, I don’t have any kids, but I did ejaculate in a cup once and a doctor did put it inside my friends vagina, and that did make a baby come out. But other than that…no….no kids.”

I don’t know what I’ll decided. She and I have a lot of things to discuss. I have a lot of things to consider.

It would be the ultimate form of service I suppose and it would make my friend extremely happy.

I keep going back and forth, my mind is still spinning on this one. I can think of a million reasons to do it and a million reasons not to. All of the reasons not to seem like selfish reasons.

I don’t like feeling selfish, yet it’s a common thread lately.