omgirl
Posts: 3
Joined: 9/3/2004
Status: offline
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Twenty Letters to Twenty Clients
Dear first client,
You were an ass for taking advantage of me because you knew it was my first session. I know you didn't even try to pull the same stunts with the more experienced sub you saw after me. That was bullshit- asking for CBT (cock & ball torture) and having me tie and retie, check and recheck your fucking cock five times. You knew genital touching was off limits in the dungeon and with me and fucked with me to get your cock touched. That was bullshit, too, when you spanked me and your hand kept 'accidentally' slipping and touching my pussy through my underwear, and your cock and balls kept ‘accidentally’ rubbing on my butt, even after I asked you not to.
After our session I went out back to decompress. The other women gave me advice. I hadn't known subbies don't do CBT and when you do it you should wear gloves. You never came back while I was working but I decided that day I would never see you again.
Dear second client,
You wanted me in a mini-dress, matching garters, stockings, and fetish heels. I didn't have a mini dress then so my silver silk slip had to do. After our session, you held my hand and spent 20 minutes giving me advice about make-up and dress. You said my slip was good for domestic scenes because it looked like what a housewife might wear but implied it wasn’t great for anything else. You suggested places to find other outfits. You suggested I buy a traditional chinese silk dress and get it altered so there'd be slits with little buttons all the way up to my hips. You said my bright red lipstick was good but suggested in detail how I should emphasize my eyes and cheeks. You said next time you came in, you'd like me in a student uniform-- little pleated skirt, white blouse, white cotton undies, bobby socks. You wanted to see if I could come up with such an outfit.
Very soon after you, I would get so I would never have given you an extra 20 minutes of attention, much less the hand holding, for no pay. I also would have said I'd be happy to try on an outfit you bought me.
Dear third client,
All you wanted was a 60 minute spanking session. It seemed easy enough. I had never been spanked for so long continuously before, though. You spanked me until I was sobbing. It was intense and kind of cool to have that experience. I wished this first time would have been with someone I was intimate with, though. I think my sobbing inspired your tenderness. Stranger as you were, you were sweet, slowed down, then stopped the spanking, and comforted me. What you got from me was real. I’m not sure it was what you wanted, though. When you left I wondered, from the look in your eyes, if I’d somehow blown the fantasy you’d hoped and paid for.
Dear fourth client,
You were so funny. I was getting coffee when I noticed the door to your room was open. Mistress R was whipping you and I didn’t know what was up with the door so politely kept my eyes averted. But then, suddenly, she called out to me to join. It turned out you like the door open, had seen me earlier, and had specifically requested that I come in to do a cameo.
I had such fun watching her whip you, you saying: ‘Oh, yes, I feel the power of a woman, the power of a woman!’over and over again. It’s funny because in a professional scene like that, it’s so much the dom fulfilling the client sub’s fantasy that, really, in the end, the client’s on top. Like with Mistress R: She slapped and humiliated you because you requested it but told me later she personally doesn’t like doing either.
You had big red glitter heart stickers stuck all around your tummy and inner thighs. Apparently, this was a ritual of yours.
Mistress let me watch, then let me play with the violet wand on you. It was my first time wielding it. I smiled with glee as you jumped and flinched in response to the electric shock and the anticipation of it. I got a flash, for the first time, of the pleasures of being top.
Mistress let you lie on your back and get off in the end. It was my first time watching someone your age jack off and there was something very human about it. Afterwards, you thanked me for having watched so intently. I said I’d enjoyed it, and meant it.
Dear fifth client,
You were sweet but not much of a dom. I was still being real with clients at that point, got into the scene, and asked for more when you stretched me on the rack. It felt good because I’m flexible but I realized belatedly I should have been more careful. I had tingly numbness up my left thumb for several weeks after that scene because the ropes were narrow and caused nerve damage.
I became much more careful about my physical well-being thereafter.
Dear sixth client,
You were my first client with a nice physique and the first person I’d ever done a tickling scene with. Later I was to discover this was quite a favorite activity with some clients. Tickling has never been something I eroticized. You tickled me until I cried because I felt helpless-- tied up and at your mercy. Those tears were something I gave you that was real, but, like with my third client, I think dacryphilia wasn’t quite your cup of tea.
Dear seventh client,
You spent half your session just talking with me. You said I was the first girl you’d seen that you were interested in talking with. You were savvy enough to ask if I dated women or men and tried to create an opening for our meeting outside the dungeon. I told you my dom did not allow me to come with clients which made you all the more bent on making me come. I didn’t let you succeed. You graduated from Harvard Biz and worked in investment banking. I actually told you what I really do in my life and you were interested and impressed and had connections for me so gave me your card before you left. I did call you and, even though it took you a second to situate me and remember who I was, we had a relatively interesting conversation. I never called you again and eventually destroyed your card along with most other vestiges of my time at that job.
Dear eighth client,
In my notes after you left I wrote “Ass. Won’t see him again.” even though you gave me my first tip. You had an English accent and smoked a cigar. You were the first person I put on my newly-pulled-together schoolgirl uniform for. I really don’t personally get off on the schoolgirl thing but at least the role-playing can be kind of fun. You humped me from behind through my underwear.
Dear ninth client,
You looked remarkably like my high school AP history teacher. You allayed any apprehension I had about tickling scenes (from my fifth client), saying you knew people who’d had bad experiences but you were very experienced and knew how to do it well. You were gentle and tickled me til I cried. I explained I cry easily and enjoy it and not to worry. For whatever reason, I don’t think I quite sated you because you went straight into another tickling session with another girl. You came back multiple times thereafter, always for tickling sessions, and never with me again.
I caught the tail end of your conversation with one of the dommes, once. She was assuring you we can’t do this work if we hate men.
Dear tenth client,
You were so sweet, and young – younger than me I think. You’d had only had one girlfriend you’d practiced D& s with. Before me, you had loyally returned to see just one professional sub til she left. I asked: ‘Why don’t you spend your time, money, and energy exploring the D& s community and seeing if you can find someone who’d be an actual partner?’
We did a very very consensual OTK session. You had no desire to hurt me and checked in repeatedly to make sure I was okay. I had already told you I’d learned early on that my limits professionally had to be different from my limits in my personal life because, at work, I had to pace myself for potential back-to-back clients.
Perhaps saying stuff like that was too honest or not fantasy-ish enough? I wasn’t sure what was going on in your eyes when you left. You gave me my most generous tip yet -- $40. I hope you are well.
Dear eleventh client,
With you I really began to feel like a priest in a confessional, with all of humanity passing through. I don’t think you were really so into D& s in actuality. You were just heartbroken from your wife leaving you and needed a safe space, an ear, and some female connection. You really wanted me to enjoy the session and asked what I wanted. Part of me wanted to say: ‘You’re my fourth client today. Do you honestly think I truly enjoy any scene I do here? None of it is real.’ Instead, I suggested a daddy-girl scene.
You spent quite a bit of the time just sitting by me as I lay on my back, stroking my tummy, and talking. You asked how old I was. I lied and said 22. You said you had two sons my age and that I was too young and sweet and innocent for a place like this. You asked if you could put your hands in my panties. I said no. On your way out you said: ‘Take care. People may try to take advantage of you.’ In a flash of myself, I said: ‘I am taking care of myself. I didn’t let you put your hands in my panties, did I?’
Dear twelfth client,
If only more of the clients were like you! In our pre-interview you said you were into foot worship, checked out my feet, liked them, checked out my shoes, and selected the ones you wanted me to wear. I put them on. You sat down, placed a towel on the carpet in front of you, and started jacking off. You had me walk sexily away from you, pivot, and walk back. You appreciated my physique. I think you practically got off before I’d even reached you. You said you were very hygienic, had me spray your hand with alcohol, tossed your own towel saying you’d never expect a girl to touch that for you, tucked your shirt with precision into your jockeys so the tails showed below, put on your pants, tipped me $20, and took off.
Not even half of the half hour you’d paid for was used up and the other girls just laughed when they saw me again, saying they’d known you’d be a quickie. Now that was easy money.
Dear thirteenth client,
You were in fire alarm sales and had seen two of the other subs before. You said you had a hard time hitting me for some reason. Did I not look enough like a slut? You didn’t tip me.
Dear fourteenth client,
Mistress Y and I had such fun with you. It was my first time doing a scene with her. What you didn’t know was, as we were picking toys we decided “More, Mistress!” would be my safe word. Later, when you were going to the bathroom before we started, she confided: “I just can’t dominate women.” She was so cool, orchestrating a scene in which I never had to be touched by you. And I had such fun amping up my moans and groans as she pretended to hit me hard and did so in a way that brought blood to the surface so I’d look all red. After you left, we tumbled back into the lounge, laughing our heads off at the scene.
I liked Mistress Y. We had cool conversations in the back. She had two kids and a new love. She had been on her own since very young and had never and would never depend on a man. She was giving her kids the time to be innocent that she’d never had. She used to freelance at motels but came to the dungeon and took the cut in pay after a client pulled a knife on her.
Dear fifteenth client,
You were my first repeat client. You checked in about our last session and I said I still had numbness in my thumb from the ropes. You were apologetic. Our session was relatively uneventful. You yourself had a low tolerance for pain so I could generally count on you to give light paddlings. You asked if I’d be willing to do dom things with you. I wasn’t. You hoped I would eventually. You were really pretty sub at heart.
Dear sixteenth client,
I never quite understood how a session like the one we did could be sexually satisfying for you. To me, it felt so nonsexual. You were the captor, I the captive. I struggled. We laughed. You were imaginative. That was it.
Dear seventeenth client,
I did not recognize you and said “nice to meet you” when I first saw you. I didn’t want to do the daddy-girl thing again but consented. You had me pick the implements of punishment, tied me to the horse, spanked me, requested I count. For some reason I was feeling emotional and distracted that day. I had no head. I have never had such an experience of being unable to keep count. I’d make it to three or six, you’d pause, I’d hesitate: “Five?, thank you, Sir.” “Daddy’s very disappointed,” you’d say. “That was six.” I let you believe I was playing with you and just liked getting punished for losing count when the truth was I was truly losing count repeatedly.
For most of our session, what I kept thinking was: “I don’t like this, don’t like this.” Then, suddenly, at the end of our session, everything changed. You had said you were going to show me “what men do when they get excited by little girls”. You were struggling to get off and I saw you get upset. Suddenly, I was filled with compassion. I remembered how you’d brushed off not being able to get off at the end of our first session. “It’s okay, I’m sure Daddy will show me some other time,” I said. “No, you don’t understand. It’s been a long time since Daddy has been able to.” Then, eventually, “Do something, say something, to help.” There was a moment of not knowing what to do or say. But I wanted you to come. “Please come for me, Daddy.” You eventually did, barely. You were so relieved and grateful. I was glad.
Dear eighteenth client,
I felt badly for you after Mistress Y so quickly ended our session with you early. You were so nervous about being marked. I thought you must have come to sate that compelling, secret desire you felt you could never share with your wife or partner. We beat you. You were remarkably quiet and barely responded. It was hard to gauge where you were at. Then, suddenly, you were filled with fear about being marked. Mistress said not to worry. All the redness would be gone in an hour. “No. Sorry. I can’t take so much,” you said. “Are you asking for the session to end?” she asked. You assented. Almost immediately, we were gone. I felt badly for you. I wished Mistress would have been more merciful with you. I wanted you to have the full session you’d fantasized about and paid for.
Dear ninteenth client,
You were basically vanilla. You wanted me to touch you all over with my nails, to play with your nipples. This grossed me out and made me feel like a prostitute. For me, touching like that is reserved for lovers and is not what a professional sub does for a client. I did not know how to explain this, though, so did as you requested in a distanced, false way. I’m sure it did not turn you on. You were near coming when time was up. You asked for just a few minutes. I wasn’t about to give you free time so asked if you wanted to extend 15 minutes. You said yes. When we were done I rushed to the next client who was waiting instead of escorting you down. You ended up not owning up to the extension. I’m sure you justified it one way or another in your mind. I carried rage and hurt about this for many weeks thereafter. You have no idea.
Dear last client,
You were a law professor from the midwest – perfectly sweet, considerate. We had a very consensual OTK (over-the-knee) spanking. You hugged me at the end and gave me a dry kiss on the forehead. I remember thinking “My god, is this all that’s left that I’m willing to do with clients? Then why bother?”
Dear all my clients,
Thank you for being part of an experience from which I did, in the end, learn a lot about myself. What I’ve realized as all the rage and woundedness dissipates is: It really was ‘just a job that didn’t work out. Some people can do it. Some people can’t.’ Ultimately, what I was willing to do professionally became so narrow and boring that there was no draw to do it. Also, I realized I don’t care for D& s without true intimacy and connection with the dom. There is no true surrender in a professional session. Finally, I became very clear that the cost of doing this work, for me, was too high. I was losing, shift by shift, session by session, an innocence and untouchedness that, once lost, I could never have back, and that I realized I valued.
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20 Letters to 20 Clients (on working @ a pro sub) - 
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