Back in November, I was a little bored. And I wanted to try to make some extra money. So I planted an experiment on Craig’s List. Perhaps I could seriously make some cash, on my own time, dominating men outside of the skanky dungeon environment. I would just need one or two decent clients who had some money and wouldn’t mind spending it on me. I figured, what could it hurt to put an ad out there? If nothing else, it would make a great story.
This is the first ad I posted:
(women seeking men) Are you a kinky guy with money to burn?
Looking for a mutually beneficial relationship. Sexy, intelligent, naturally dominant female seeks play partner. Not a pro, just want to practice with someone who understands the value of my time.
You must be sexy, communicative, intelligent, well-groomed and polite.
Have I piqued your interest? Good. Get in touch for more information.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have used the term “play partner.” I didn’t know better.
Within five minutes I got like 30 responses. It was like I had fucking hit the jackpot. My BlackBerry was lit up and blinking nonstop. I was actually going to start a blog to just document all the random fucks who wrote me, wanting to be dominated. I was already intrigued.
After weeding out the people who were idiots at first glance, poor spellers, and those thinking I was soliciting sex, I decide to start meeting some of these guys. In public, of course. JM was among the first.
He’s 26, white, and sends me a photo of himself wearing a rugby shirt. Oh man, this is going to be interesting. A frat boy. We go back and forth a bit, he describes some of his fantasies. We decide to meet at Revival Bar around Union Square.
He gets me wine. As he should. He’s wearing Chucks and has red hair. I question him on this as his photo clearly showed he had brown hair. No, he shakes his head. I have red hair. It’s short and he looks so clean cut. He played for the US Lacrosse team, apparently.
The wine is helping because I’m fucking nervous. What the hell do I know about doing this kind of shit? I didn’t even think it would get this far. My only experience is working in a commercial dungeon in Midtown. A kinky sorority house was what that was. Fun times with the girls, but the den father was a creep with a fetish for young Asian chicks. The place got shut down shortly after someone went unconscious from suspension during the overnight shift.
Anyway back to JM. The turning point came when he leaned over and asked me, “so what’s a nice Jewish girl like you doing something like this?”
Turns out the guy is also Jewish and from Long Island. He’s sick of dating J-Date girls. He sells fancy men’s Italian shoes in a boutique in the Upper East Side. Upon hearing this my eyes roll in the back of my head. He’s asking me questions about life in general, nothing too personal, and he’s making me laugh.
JM and I see each other frequently after that for a bit. He doesn’t pay me because, I don’t know, we’re dating? Are we dating? I have no idea. We fuck around some (without the fuck) … I duct tape him to a chair one night. He takes me to nice restaurants in the Village. He’s funny and a prankster. Full of shit. Eccentric. A hustler. Tells me he wears velour track suits. Talks to me about his family. I mean, he’s likable. Even though he lifted a girl’s profile off of Myspace and pasted it on Craig’s List as his own. And even though he admitted that the girl’s boyfriend emailed him and forced him to take it down.
I gave him shit about that. A lot of shit. It was unbelievable. Knucklehead.
I take him to the movies one day to see “Milk.” Perfect for a straight dude. At the end of the film he starts to walk out, leaving his popcorn bag and soda cup behind. I’m like, yo, what are you doing? take your trash! So he does and we walk out.
Later he says that the fact that I told him to pick up his trash turned him on. And it especially turned him on that it was in the movie theater. What? I’m baffled. Then he has an idea: what if the next time we go to a movie, I put a collar and leash on him and at the end of the movie ordered him to pick up everybody’s trash in the theater? He started to get fixated on what the theater staff would say, how they would look at him, what the other patrons would think. I’m laughing because I don’t think he’s serious.
But he is. And he wants it videotaped. From all angles, with me yelling at him in the process. This is his idea. And I even got two dudes I know to offer to help. We really did have a serious discussion about it one day. I wish I could say this happened. I really fucking do.
But JM bailed.
The last time I really hung out with him was January, I think.
So it had been a while since I’d seen him. He emailed me a while back and texted me shortly thereafter. He emailed me today and wanted to get together. I was in Union Square so we ended up having a reunion.
Of course he fills me in on his latest antics … his move from the East Village to Hell’s Kitchen, and tells me his apartment will be free for 10 days, would I want to use it to dominate men? Charge them $150. His cut? $50. His friend Franco is starting a foot fetish establishment. Apparently he used to run an escort service. JM spent some time in Puerto Rico with the boys. He had a mini stroke on the plane ride home from too much cocaine.
He’s back on J-Date, checking out girls from Long Island who ask if he has a car. He’s still tickled by the movie theater idea – though he knows he’s lost his chance with me.
He walks me to the subway. I’m toasted. One glass of wine is too much for me these days. I tell him I’ll let him know about using his space. I can think of worse ideas …