My proclivity toward kink wasn’t fully unveiled until well into adulthood. Kids from whitebread Midwest suburbs in the pre-Internet days had limited exposure to things alternative, and I was no exception.
But like so many others, the quiet signs of my unorthodox interests appeared regularly. The standard fascination with games and cartoons that involved capture and bondage... a profound appreciation of Frank Zappa... spending more time volunteering for STD hotlines and Planned Parenthood than the homecoming float... admiring the courage and beauty of cross dressers... taking the initiative in relationships... becoming a de facto sexuality consultant and confidante to numerous friends and acquaintances. All this in a town where people still whispered about whether a particular bride was entitled to wear white.
A boyfriend once presented me with a little handcuff keychain. He had no idea why, he said... just an overwhelming compulsion to buy it for Me. Though I didn’t realize what that little metal object symbolized, I adored his earnest attempts to please Me, and the handcuffs themselves seemed imbued with some magical energy that I couldn’t explain for a very long time. That young man became a blip on My radar screen, but the keychain became a talisman that I cherish to this day.
A watershed moment occurred as I toured the streets of New Orleans one afternoon in 1993, fulfilling the corporate wife role (an early experiment in submission) by window shopping with an associate's spouse while my uber-conservative soon-to-be-ex and other conferencegoers pretended to do things of great importance.
My soccer mom companion and I found ourselves gazing up at a window full of something alien to us both, big and dark and imposing and mysterious, appearing before us magically and quite unexpectedly…a leather shop.
She gasped, giggled, stepped back, looked away. My heart began to palpitate in some kind of cosmic recognition. I felt a powerful pull, an overwhelming urge to dive in and learn more about its black and purple and red and silver treasures.
I couldn't convince Muffy to cross the threshold. She scurried away on a beignet quest and I was forced to follow, but that shop made a lasting impression.
Over the next few years my life changed dramatically, finally giving me the freedom to pursue My interests My way. In 2001 I left my white collar profession and began training at a professional domination studio, where I eventually became dungeon manager.
Circumstances forced My return to corporate life for a time (plenty of role play and power games there, too, albeit without safewords or a safe-sane-consensual credo). But alas, now that my kinky interests had been unleashed, no amount of 401(k) match or carrot-weighted sticks or early morning rah-rah breakfasts could make me settle for vanilla again.
The Genii was out of the bottle. I couldn’t forget the weighty feel of a finely-crafted flogger in my hand, the sensual embrace of a corset, or the sweet sight and beautiful energy of a devoted, well-trained slave working to please Me.
Life's too short not to do something you love. In 2008 I began working as an independent Prodomme, joining the ranks of the many fine Mistresses practicing in South Florida.
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