SOOOOOO last week, I took one of my foot slaves to a fetish club. How did I get a foot slave exactly and what on Earth is making me explore something like this? Read more here
For those of you who are already caught up, let’s just carry on shall we?
Here’s the song that goes with this post …
That Tuesday I had taken foot slave number two (aka Dopey) to get his mask less for my pleasure and more for his anonymity. 9/10 times that I kick it somewhere in LA now someone … somewhere … will come up and say something about reading the site. I think that’s spec-fuckingtacular, but in exploring the kinky realm I had to be conscious to not “out” someone in such a public place.
Why did I choose to go to a club?
I don’t know, I was more curious if being in such a public place would enhance things. Again, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to find, but I was committed to figure that part out.
The night before I had gone home with a duderino from the bar (TOTAL first, btw … but had the funnest day ever) so I arranged for the slave to pick me up at 8:30 from Marina Del Rey.
At 8:15 I get a text …
I’m running late. I’ll be there closer to 9.
I was playing beer pong while I read the text, so I frankly didn’t care on a personal level … but on the domme level, I was extremely disappointed and made sure he knew it …
You’re a bad boy, I texted back.
I then went back to kicking it with my new friends and playing until he arrived shortly after 9.
My “date” walked me out and after I kissed him goodbye I got in the car with the slave.
You’re a bad boy for being late, I said sitting in the passenger seat.
I know, he said.
Dopey is the most of all three of the slaves. Doc (first foot slave) has a wife, kids, and is just really into being objectified. In conversations with Dopey it seemed like he was actually looking for not a domme but a demanding girlfriend. He had mentioned being in the scene for a while, but also that he had received sexual satisfaction from his previous dominatrixes.
During the scene, he said, I had to beg them to finally let me come. There was always a physical release during each session, he admitted.
Despite my best efforts I tried not to judge him especially because I was so new at this – how could I predict if sexually speaking I’d be into exploring something more when I have no frame of reference. My first instinct was to explore the scene, and then allow things to progress naturally and without judgement.
Was the slave my type sexually speaking, and did this turn me on in a sexual manner?
Nope. Not at all on both counts – but again, open mind. I HHHAAAVVVEEEEEEE to have an open mind 100% of the time. The entire experience depended on it!!!
The slave then dropped me off at my place so I could change before going to the club. I had asked him when he picked me up to bring me a bottle of wine (all subs bring the domme a gift), but since he forgot, I made him go out while I was getting ready.
I then got ready (which btw never takes me more than 15 minutes. I’m a SPPPEEEEEEEEEDDDD demon) and when I realized he still wasn’t back, I texted him.
Where r u?
I stopped to get some fast food, I was hungry.
I stared down at the text and wondered how fucking dumb is this slave, or maybe this is a thing? Do they always push your buttons like this testing boundaries?
My gut told me yes, even if everything in my soul was already starting to get tired of the fact that this guy was late now twice in picking me up – ANNNDDD he forgot my gift.
Should I have sent him home at that point, I wondered? It’s all so hard knowing when you’re just starting out.
We then picked up two of my friends, and I proceeded to ignore him until we got to the club.
Change the radio to 102.7, I said to the slave.
That’s pop though, he replied back.
So!! It’s what I want to listen to!!!
Fine, he lamented.
This guy is such a BITCH, I thought.
We finally get to the club (after sitting in traffic for LITERALLY an hour over by the Hollywood bowl) and I instruct him to drop us off at the door while he finds parking.
I only have $10 cash on me, how much is parking? he asks.
That’s not my problem to deal with, go figure it out, I say as I slam the door.
(I really did take to being a domme almost immediately. I’m a bitch … I’m a lover … I’m a child …)
We then get inside and I meet up with some of my other friends and get a crowd together to start dancing. The club isn’t strictly a fetish club – it’s more goth-like and DEFINITELY gathers a gnarly looking crowd. Everyone is dressed in black, and there are people getting flogged and spanked upstairs.
About 20 minutes later I finally spot the slave on the patio smoking. There you are, I said. Here put this on … I hand him his mask.
Do I have to wear this, he asks?
Yes! It’s more for your protection actually. I don’t want someone to be able to identify you as one of my slaves.
I then assist him in buckling the mask as we head over to the dance floor.
When we get there, my friends laugh saying, dude, you have a slave behind you. Go make him do something.
I turn around and snap my fingers. COME! I command.
We then head over to the couches and I sit down.
Get on your knees, I command pointing to the ground.
Take off my shoes and rub my feet – they are sore from dancing.
He then removes my right shoe, followed by the left.
The woman next to me, who was passed out when I first sat down looks up and wonders what we are doing.
Are you a domme, she asks.
Yes, I say barely looking at her.
Woah, she said. I’m a switch.
You’re really hot, she says as the slave begins rubbing my feet.
I say nothing to her as I drift away into the wonderful wonderful bliss of having your feet properly massaged.
The woman then moves onto the couch next to me.
I stare down at her … can I help you? I inquire.
I want to be a part of this too, she says.
Alrite, rub my shoulders, I command.
She then begins rubbing my shoulders.
Because of the loud music, I couldn’t hear what she said next, but before I knew it she leaned forward and slapped the slave.
Not like “slapped slapped” more like the way a 4 year old would hit you. She was passed out not 10 minutes prior, and based on her back massage had ABSOLUTELY no upper body strength.
Before I could stop her, she hits the slave again. He gets PISSED.
Woah, woah, I say. You need to stop, realizing a boundary has been crossed.
Seconds later her friend arrives and takes her away. I was grateful I didn’t have to deal with anything further.
I then get back on the dance floor and in about every 15 minute intervals command the slave to stop and rub my feet.
After about an hour I was tired, so I instructed the slave to get the car and I would meet him out there shortly.
I said goodbye to my friends as I walked outside where the car was already waiting.
I get inside, and the slave starts SSSCCCCCCRRRRRREEEAAMMMIIIINNNNNNGGGG at me.
HOW COULD YOU LET HER DO THAT TO ME, HE SAID!!!!
I’M A PET, I’M SUPPOSED TO BE CHERISHED, AND TREATED WELL. WHAT WAS THAT?!?! HOW COULD YOU LET HER DO THAT TO ME????
I immediately apologize because I genuinely knew a boundary had been crossed, but then I stared back in confusion at the words coming out of his mouth … cherish? treated well? Aren’t slaves supposed to be objectified and humiliated?
I let him continue …
AND WHAT WAS WITH THE MASK??? WHAT IF I OVERHEATED? WHAT IF I PASSED OUT??? WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED??
I say nothing, but I think what a BITCH this guy is. I friggen wore the thing MYSELF …
I would never … EVER put someone in a situation unless I had done it myself. I WAS a sub to my friend the switch, remember?? I wore this myself and learned literally by having it all done to me.
I knew SO THROUGH AND THROUGH that this mask was easy to breathe in. This guy was being SUCH A FUCKING PUSSY!!!
He then stopped screaming and waited for me to respond. Again, I apologized for the woman hitting him like a 4 year old, but then said, you’re having an extremely emotional response right now and I’m attempting to figure out how to process this which is difficult since the slaves that I have dealt with outside of you have wanted me to ignore, humiliate, and objectify them. You’re asking for an entirely different scenario and I’m not at all sure I’m interested in dealing with it.
Fuck that shit man, I’m here to be a bitch!! Treat someone like a PET and CHERISH THEM?? OOOHHH HELLLLLL NOOOOOO!!! You’ll be my stool, foot massager, and overall life pamper-er. In return for you pleasing me, I let you worship me. Period end of sentence.
We finally get back to my place, where again I apologize for him being hit. Even though she didn’t hit you hard, I can see how that would be upsetting and for that, again, I apologize.
YOU’RE SO EMOTIONLESS IN THIS, HE SCREAMED!!
Yeah, I thought, it’s because I feel like I’m 11 years old again and fighting with one of the other girl’s at school. I just listened to you BITCH AND MOAN for 15 FUCKING MINUTES!!! What more do you want from me? I’m tired, cranky, and now COMPLETELY disinterested in dealing with you. I have no emotional investment in this scenario nor should I feel like I have to.
This is the ONE PLACE where I can be cold and it’s supposed to be HOT FOR THE GUYS!!
I then walk upstairs, laughing. I get criticized by guys for seeming a bit standoffish, and here I am in the ONE SPACE where this is supposed to be kosher for passover and one of my slaves calls me a robot. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, absolutely EVERYTHING that makes me good in business SLAYS my personal life.
An hour later as I was falling asleep I see a text from the slave apologizing.
Done, done, doner than done, I thought as I fell asleep.
So, what did I learn from this experience?
Not all subs are the same. Like anything in this world there are different levels of the spectrum and while some may be into certain things, others aren’t. You have to have a conversation with the sub before beginning and establish the boundaries within the scenario.
I know, as a domme, I am COMPLETELY disinterested in having any sort of emotional connection with the slave, the person. I will respect the animal that they are at their core, certainly, and only do what I know will enhance their experience – but I am ABSOLUTELY disinterested in conversing with them, knowing about what they do for a living, or anything in between. Keep that shit to yourself, yo!
So slave number two has gotten the axe, but who’s next? Again, as a domme that is what I am looking for, and should this be you, and what you’re into … hit me up! Send me an application on why you should be my slave (bitches need not apply, only beg):
JenFriel at Talknerdytomelover d c
Next up is a meeting with slave number 3 this week … dudes, I’m finally getting a riding crop!! YAY LIFE!!! =)