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I’d recently flipped roles and started dabbling as a dominatrix as well, with a submissive of my own, and this experience gave me the confidence to respond to the ad.I’d even listed myself on Fetlife, the BDSM social network, as a switch (someone who could play both dominant and submissive roles).The welcome team was in full socialization and greeting mode. When people began to get up, jump up, dance and worship, I stood awkwardly with my hands at my sides.The more people who said hi to me, the more I felt like nails were being driven into my skin. I couldn’t understand what I was doing at punk rock church.
The reluctance she showed was evident in her posture.
Having several “meets,” which is what we called greeting clients, with not one of them choosing me, made me wonder if something was wrong with me.
Amy reassured me that the first couple weeks were always rough. But I felt like I was a submissive in domme’s clothing. I realized I would much rather be the one being spanked than spanking.
When Amy gave me a tour, I saw that there were themed rooms. ” “Spanking, nipple play.” “Do you know how to do CBT?
I really liked the room that was designed to look like a doctor’s workspace. ” “No, I’m not really sure how to do cock and ball torture.” “I guess we will show you. We mostly use rope to tie the balls.” The whole interview lasted no more than five questions. Amy offered to introduce me to the other women, and the first thing I saw when I walked into the “Girls Lounging Room” was titties.
Instead, she looked plain, with shoulder length brown hair and an accent I couldn’t identify, maybe Russian.