The Shocking Revelation That I Was Attracted to a Client

The continuing story of my early days as a pro-Domme

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In the last installment of this newsletter, I explained how my sessions became a kind of laboratory where I could practice becoming more comfortable with men. This might sound comical or bizarre to some, seeing that I’d become a Dominatrix after all, but author Robert Greene has said that young women who’ve grown up with a lot of experience with the opposite sex (think with brothers) have a better time with heterosexual relationships as adults because they aren’t afraid of male energy.

I didn’t have any brothers growing up, and had an overbearing mother and an emotionally distant father. As a result, I didn’t know how to interact with men very well as I developed into a young woman and was actually quite terrified of male energy.

Men were a mystery to me. I was very naïve and this resulted in me being mistreated by men quite often in my younger years. Part of the desire for becoming a Dominatrix actually came from a want to turn the tables on men. And I definitely did my share of that at the beginning of my Domme career.

You can read about my first paid session as a professional, when I treated my slave terribly, not even taking into account his interests or desires (or even asking him about them). I literally thought domming was just about treating men like shit. I only started to become a better Domme when I learned that the craft is much more nuanced. Successfully dominating a man has a lot more to do with pleasuring him than many would expect.

And so, I explained in my last newsletter how my early career as a pro helped my relationship with men because I gained more experience with them. I certainly developed a greater understanding of masculinity. But one of my biggest realizations of all during that period was that I could actually feel attraction toward a client.

The shocking realization that I felt attracted to one of my subs. 

That I might actually feel attracted to one of my subs was incredibly surprising to me as when I started this job I had no true interest in BDSM and saw it as just a professional endeavor. In fact, up to that point, I mostly felt revulsion towards my clients. I didn’t even feel attraction toward the handsome submissive I paddled at my first BDSM party ever. I thought my clients’ fetishes were at best weird and at worst disgusting.

And though, by-and-by, I would ultimately develop more empathy for my subs, I never felt attraction toward any of them. So, what a surprise when I finally did.

The client’s name was Glenn. I didn’t know that I would develop a little a crush on him when I first spoke to him on the phone. I do remember he was polite when he called, a bonus. So often accepting calls from potential subs was a study in just how unhinged they could be.

So many of these men weren’t even interested in setting up an actual session with me. They called only to waste my time. They would want to know things like the color of the panties I was wearing. Or they would bark like a dog or breathe heavily into the phone, hoping to get a reaction out of me.

But with Glenn, I answered the phone and this polite voice came through the receiver (yes, in this era, I was still using a landline to book sessions). We made plans to meet and he actually showed up to the dungeon. When he walked through the door, I felt even more delighted. He was tall, fit, well-dressed. Elegant I’d say.

He had a foot fetish, and so I instructed him to disrobe and then we began with him massaging my feet. We talked the whole time. Except every so often, he would take one of my succulent toes into his moist mouth to suck on it, and then he wouldn’t say anything, just moan with delight. But when he wasn’t sucking on one of my toes and we were just talking, we chatted about the countries we had traveled to, our education, and, in his case, the business he had started.

He also shared that he didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend, which was unusual as so many of my clients revealed they saw Dommes behind their partners’ backs. (If you’d like to read more about my opinion about this, you can find it here.)

And that’s when I realized I was attracted to the guy. It just came over me. He was so cute and charming, and I could see myself actually dating him. And yeah, him sucking my toes was turning me on.

But then something happened that would ruin the whole mood and end with Glenn and I never seeing each other again. 

Mistress A.’s goth friends barged in on us.

As I’ve mentioned, during this period, I was working at the dungeon of a dominatrix named Mistress A. (I haven’t included her full name here to protect her identity as I don’t have her consent to write about her). Unfortunately, Mistress A. had a bad habit of letting her friends hang out around the dungeon. These people didn’t work there; they were goth club acquaintances.

They just thought it was cool to lurk around a BDSM dungeon. However, the dungeon was a workplace—my workplace. In my workplace, I was focused on being professional with my clients, many of whom were executives like Glenn.

I had already realized the presence of these intruders posed a problem for me. To retain clients—especially upscale clients—I needed to offer a professional experience. But professionalism was impossible with local goth urchins hanging around, especially when they showed up unannounced.

They would interrupt my sessions, walking into the space I was in. Sometimes, they would barge in through the front door or wander out of the back bedroom where the phones were. These intrusions were a huge issue as many of my submissive clients were secretive about their kinks and feared running into someone they knew—or ultimately, having anyone witness them in session without their expressed consent.

The final straw occurred when this happened during my session with Glenn. There he was, completely naked, kneeling at my feet, when a couple of Mistress A.’s goth buddies broke out into a loud argument in the back bedroom, and then the front doorbell started ringing incessantly. When one of them marched into the room where Glenn and I were having our scene, flung open the front door of the house, exposing poor naked Glenn to the street outside and whoever was on the doorstep, I lost it. I yelled angrily at the session crashers, but the damage was already done. 

Glenn was horrified. He didn’t have a public humiliation kink. No amount of apologizing could calm him down. Imagine kneeling naked in a private space, kissing a woman’s feet, and having the experience suddenly bared to a Hollywood street in the bright light of day.

This was the ’90s, long before the kink renaissance we have today, where fetish is discussed in mainstream magazines. Kink was still underground and extremely taboo. Honestly, even today, most clients still demand privacy when it comes to this part of their life. They are not comfortable with anyone knowing about their kinks.

As a Domme, I respect that. But, unfortunately, in this case, I could do nothing to protect Glenn‘s privacy. He remained polite as he got dressed again and didn’t ask for his money back. But he didn’t request to rebook a session and I knew I would never see him again.

I changed after this experience. It was obvious to me that I couldn’t continue working at Mistress A.’s dungeon. But at least I learned a lot there. And one of the things I learned was that I might actually feel attracted to one of my submissive clients, quite the revelation.

I would ultimately get a new job at a commercial dungeon, called the Chateau. I’ll recount more about this experience in my next newsletter.