Tag: dominatrix

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Talking Domination on Gunwash

A few days ago, I was a guest on Gunwash, a trippy radio show that records from the radio station in Roberta’s restaurant in Brooklyn. (I didn’t even know there was a radio station inside Roberta’s??? Fascinating.) The topic of conversation was “Dominatrixes”–what a Domme does, what subs want, etc.–and there was also a lot of talk about the host Aaron’s own personal relationship problems. Lol. It wasn’t the most erudite conversation of all time, given that everyone in the room except me was high on weed brownies, but there were definitely some interesting moments, specifically when Aaron was being spanked by the riding crop of dominatrix Mona St. Claire.

You can download or stream the radio show HERE. Fyi, I join about 20 minutes in.

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Vogue, and Whether or Not to be Afraid of the Internet

 

I originally wrote this article for Vogue (glamorous). 

We live in a time when you can be fired for tweeting mean things about your boss, and you can get arrested for admitting on Facebook to driving drunk. A quick scroll through someone’s Instagram determines whether or not you should sleep with him or her. Social media has made it nearly impossible to separate our personal and professional lives, and like it or not, each of us is our own brand. A friend of mine recently suggested that people who don’t un-tag unflattering Facebook photos of themselves are simply “bad at doing their own PR.” But if the Internet really is forever, as we are constantly being warned, then how carefully should we moderate what we put out there?

I’m the author of a blog called Slutever that deals mainly with sex—everything from personal stories to interviews with fetishists and prostitutes to videos documenting my not-so-smooth efforts at becoming a professional dominatrix. As one can probably imagine, this does not make my devout Catholic parents very happy. Aside from “eternal hellfire,” their main concern has always been how being explicit about sex online will affect my life in the future.

When I started my blog back in 2007, at the age of 21, I was a college dropout living in a squat in London, ignoring my parents’ pleading e-mails to come back to America and get a job. Admittedly, I wasn’t thinking too seriously about my future. I was more concerned with creating an open dialogue about sex. I saw sex as the elephant in the room—something everybody’s interested in but rarely discusses in a straightforward way—and I wanted to change that. I viewed my liberal sexual persona as I imagine some view their tattoos: “I’m going to get that neck tattoo now so I’ll never end up working in a bank.” It’s a way of signing a contract with oneself, of saying, “I promise to be forever true to the person I am.”

The problem with this, of course, is that the “person I am” is constantly changing. And thanks to the Internet, the people we were are always coming back to haunt us—the bad haircuts, the embarrassing drunken nights, that outfit you thought was so cool that you now realize made you look like a loser. I felt nauseated the other day when I revisited a feelings-heavy blog post I wrote about being dumped by my ex-boyfriend. But I resisted the urge to delete it, because, really, who cares? If anything, the visibility of our awkward pasts teach us to take ourselves less seriously. Joan Didion, in her famous essay “On Keeping a Notebook,” discussed the importance of making peace with our former selves.

“It all comes back . . . I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4:00 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends.”

When Joan Didion wrote those words, back in the sixties, the experience she described was very solitary. The difference now, of course, is that we put our lives on display, up for critique by anyone who chooses to look. My generation was the first to really grow up online—we had LiveJournals in middle school, posted pictures on Myspace in our teens, and watched the Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee sex tape (which took 45 minutes to download on our parent’s dial-up connection) before we’d lost our virginities. We were the guinea pigs of Internet oversharing, unenlightened about the potential consequences of cyber-permanence, yet soon to be well-versed in the concept of the Internet shame trail. At 20, I never considered that years later that photo of me peeing into a sink at a party would still appear on the first page of a Google image search of my name. (Why?!)

When we’re young, it’s easy to see the world as infinitely malleable. The future is a place where past mistakes can be fixed, and regretful decisions can be compensated for. We know now that this isn’t always the case. A friend of mine, recently engaged, was mortified when her fiancé’s conservative mother Googled her and found an essay she wrote in college about her experimental lesbian phase. And I know that if I ever have children, they will be able to find naked photos of me online.

Of course, if your life goal is to become a comedian, you can afford to worry less about this stuff than if you want to be president. But those of us who fall between those two extremes understand that sooner or later we’re all going to have stuff online we wish we could forget. And in turn, I would hope that makes us more forgiving. In his book about Facebook, David Kirkpatrick credits Mark Zuckerberg with the belief that “more transparency should make for a more tolerant society in which people eventually accept that everybody sometimes does bad or embarrassing things.”

I’m not suggesting that we all pull a Courtney Love and rant unedited about everything that comes into our heads. We have to be mindful of what we share. As for my blog, it became evident over time that my transparency was not inhibiting my career, but rather becoming a career of its own. Yet even as I understand that my choices will follow me forever, I also have made a decision not to let my behavior online be dictated by fear—fear of alienation, or fear of how something will be perceived in the future—because fear that makes us passive is boring, and if it persists it’s going to propel us into the Internet dark ages. I don’t think I’ll regret anything I’ve done, because it’s an essential part of who I once was.

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gross but not boring

Pic by Nobuyoshi Araki

Working as a Dominatrix, over time one becomes–how should I put it?–desensitized to one’s surroundings. This is nothing out of the ordinary. It’s easy to imagine that a neuroscientist, at the beginnings of his career, might find it difficult to scissor the head off of an innocent little mouse, but that eventually this would become second nature. Basically, what was once thought to be horrific, even evil, can in time become totally NBD—the sort of thing one does while simultaneously re-Tumbling photos of cupcakes.

When I started working as a Domme, everything was overwhelming. For example, golden showers: the idea that men were willing to pay me to piss into their mouths completely floored me (and left me with the sinking feeling that I’d spent my life flushing millions down the toilet, literally). And then there was the stress of the execution. “Will I be able to go when it’s time to go?” “Will drinking too much coffee make my pee taste bitter, i.e. less expensive?” “How many hours before go-time should I start drinking water in order to facilitate maximum bladder-fillage?” Etc. However, two years down the line, I’m now able to casually shoot a tropical storm out of my vaj straight into the back of someone’s throat, on cue, without batting an eyelid.

And then there’s the issue of fucking guys in the ass. The first few times I did this, I found it disgusting (especially since most straight guys aren’t schooled in receiving anal, and thus are not good at “cleaning out”–barf.) Yet over time I’ve learned to deal with all the weird gunk that comes out of a person’s body in a very pragmatic, professional way. Kind of like a doctor, only not at all.

However, in a world of familiar extremes (as BDSM tends to be), often it’s the people and situations that you least expect that end up leaving you shell-shocked. For instance, a slave asking to be whipped and locked in a cage may seem extreme on a superficial level, but really this is just the BDSM equivalent of telling someone you’re “into music.” (Like, spare me, please.) Ultimately, it’s the more obscure, refined fetishes that prove most intriguing.  An example:

Recently, a Dominatrix friend of mine put me in touch with a client of hers who is “into sweating.” Sure, I thought, Nothing strange there. “Sweat porn is so hard to come by,” the client wrote to me in an email. “I’ve found a few videos where the actors get a bit moist from exertion, but usually it’s clear that they’re being oiled up or sprayed between takes, and 99% of sauna porn is just sex in a switched off sauna. What gives?!” My immediate assumption was that he’d want to lick sweat from my feet, or to do a sweaty role-play wrestling session or something. As it turns out, the session involved me drinking lemonade on the couch of his apartment while he put on layer after layer of flannel shirts, socks and sweatpants, and then processed to run (at a compromised speed, obviously) on the treadmill. Sometimes, when he’d slow down, I’d yell at him to run faster. About twenty minutes later, when he looked like he was about to die, he stopped and undressed. He then took his sweatiest layers of clothing, wrung them out into saucepan, and drank the excess. I sat across from him, sipping my lemonade, giggling, and telling him he was gross. Gross, but not boring, which is ultimately (and obviously) worse.

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Mistress Amanda Whip

In the most recent episode of the VICE Slutever show, embeded into the post below this one, I spent a day with the pro-Domme Mistress Amanda Whip, and she gave me #sexy beginners lessons in “BDSM for the bedroom”. However, there were large parts of my interview with her–specifically the parts about how she got her start as a dominatrix, and her career thus far–that were edited out of the final cut of the episode. But it was all sooo juicy, so I decided to publish it here as a Q&A. I hope this interview will be useful for some of you, as I’ve been getting a lot of emails recently from girls who are all like, “Uhhh… I want to make money beating up guys, can you teach me how to become a dominatrix?!” So if you’re one of those girls, PLEASE, read and learn! You’re welcome.

When did first become interested in fetish?
Mistress Amanda Whip: Well, I grew up in South Florida, which is a very sexually charged place, so from a very young age I was just aware of sexual… ya know… stuff. And then I started making erotic art–drawing pictures of sex, of nudity, and some minor fetish stuff crept its way in there too.

Like what?
I remember this one scene that I drew where a bunch of girls were jumping on a guy on a trampoline. So they were trampling him, basically. My friend’s mom found that one and got freaked out! And I loved drawing girls tied up.

I always wonder how much of our sexual desires are programed when we’re very young, like how much our parents influence what we’re “into” later on in life.
Well, my parents are pretty open-minded, and there was always a lot of nudity around me growing up. And my grandma was kind of a man-hating psycho, so I guess I’ve picked up some elements of my sexual personality from all of them! Like when I was about 3 or 4 my grandma has this boyfriend, and she would always encourage me to beat him over the head and do other evil things to him. I was a sadistic kid, and she really brought it out in me.

And when did you move more seriously into the world of BDSM?
I guess it was when I moved to New York and started going to fetish parties. I would go to the Bite Party at The Delancey, and Suspension—places like that. And they always had these “play areas” in the back where you could play one-on-one with “real life slaves.” Those were my first experiences beating up guys, or being dominant with them, like “Rub my back, rub my feet, get me drinks,” and stuff. I was like “Wow, I can’t believe this exists!” Guys would literally line up on their hands-and-knees to give me an eternal foot rub. And if I wanted to stick my heel down their throat and make them bleed, I could. They were there to serve.

Do you get paid at those types of parties?
Some of the guys will give you money, but most of them don’t. I didn’t have my hustle on back then, as I was only about 18 or 19, so I was doing it mostly for fun.

So when did you realize this was something you wanted to do professionally?
Well, I started out doing art modeling, and working at lap dance parties. And then I started doing fetish films, so I sort of worked backwards, actually. Basically I answered a casting call to perform in a fetish film at this small, independent BDSM space, and then afterward they asked me if I wanted a job as a dominatrix, and I just said OK.

And what did performing in the fetish film involve? Was there actual sex?
No. I’ve done some girl-on-girl videos, but the fetish films I did were mostly cock and ball torture, crushing, kneeing–stuff like that. Fun things!

So at this first job, were you a house Domme? I know lots of girls start out that way–they work on staff at a dungeon, and then clients come in and pick out the girl they want to session with. It’s sort of brothel vibes, but it’s an easy way to start out, and you get a lot of training and experience.
I wasn’t a house Domme actually. The main draw for me at that first place was that I only had to show up when I had a client, and they would find the clients for me. Granted, I didn’t get a ton of clients and it was kind of a mess, but it was an easy start.

The things that seems strange to me about working as a house Domme is that the initial situation, where you’re waiting for a client to pick you, seems quite submissive.
Yeah, that’s why I’ve never wanted to work in a major dungeon house–I don’t like the idea of sitting in a room with fifteen girls and a guy coming in saying, “Oh, I want that one,” and then afterward having to dominate him, when he just dominated me. But for a lot of girls that’s the only way they can get into it. But the great part about it is that when you work in a house, you instantly meet a clientele base that you can take with you when you decide to go independent.

Generally you get trained when you work in-house. Did you get any basic training?
In the first place I worked they did try to train me, but it was a little shady. Really the owner just wanted to get a free session with me as a submissive. He said I should be his sub to teach me how to be dominant. But it didn’t pan out the way he wanted, and I ended up forcing him to pay me for the session. Basically it was me and another girl, and he tied us both up and faced us away from him, and I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw him pull up the other girl’s dress and pull down his pants and start jerking off. I was like, “This is not what was discussed, “ and told him to never fucking do that again, and to hire me. Ha! So I wasn’t really formally trained, but I experimented and had friends who were Dommes, and I read a lot of fetish literature.

Some girls who work at dungeons work as a “switch.” How does that work?
That’s when you switch between being a Domme or a sub, depending on what is requested for the session. When I first started my boss was like, “You can work only as a Domme or you can be a switch, and switches get $300 an hour.” So I was like, “Okay, let’s try that and see what happens.” I let him know in the beginning that I’m not really a submissive, so I started doing light switch sessions, but it didn’t last long. I’m not good at taking orders and couldn’t keep my mouth shut, and I tended to anger the dominant guys. Like, this one guy threw a glass of water in my face because he got so angry at me for not obeying.

Is being a Domme a lucrative job for you?
Yeah, it pays my bills and gives me a nice life.

Is it the only way that you make money?
No, I do some burlesque here and there. I’ve been stage managing burlesque shows for a while, and I had a small chocolate making business for a while too.

Has there ever been a time when you were really grossed out or shocked during a session? Like, “What am I doing here? I’m a nice girl!”
Well, I don’t really consider myself a nice girl :) But there was this one intense time where a client wanted to eat my shit. But I wasn’t ready to pinch out a log on this dude, so I compromised and I told him I would sell him a bag of my used toilet paper. And the moment I was handing him a Ziploc bag of my used, shitty toilet paper, and he was looking at it like it was a bag of chips, in my head I was like, “How did I get here?”

Lol. Have you shit on anyone since then?
Not, I don’t like excrement. I’ll pee on someone if we have a good relationship and the money’s right, but that’s not my thing either. Although I’ve heard I have particularly sweet urine.

I’ve seen guys drink literally pints of pee, so much that they start choking and burping up pee burps.
The worst is when they’re laying on their back and you fill their mouth with pee to the brim, and then they just close their mouth and gulp and you know it’s a hot load of piss they just swallowed.

Yum! So, from your experience, why do you think so many guys like drinking pee so much?
A lot of them just like the humiliating aspect of drinking someone else’s waste. They like feeling like they’re a toilet. That, or they just like feeling close to a woman, and they feel that’s the best way for someone as lowly as themselves to do it.

You know when you love someone so much that you literally want to get inside their body, just so you can be as close to them as possible? Do you think pee drinking is kind of the same thing–wanting to get at what’s inside someone else?
Yeah, I don’t do a ton of piss stuff but I get a lot of guys who want me to spit in their mouths, and when I ask them about it they say they feel it’s the closest they can get to me. Also, a lot of this stuff is just about wanting attention. I think some people are just born feeling like they should be beneath other people. And others are in really powerful positions, or are the head of a household, and they just need to go somewhere and relax; they say seeing a Domme is like maintaining peace of mind. There are some foot fetishists who come in and just spend the whole hour under my feet, and it looks like they’re meditating, like it’s some sort of Zen thing. I get texts from them after like, “Thank you so much, now I can get through my week without going crazy!”

It’s a stereotype that high-powered businessmen, after bossing people around all day, see Dommes because they crave a role reversal. Do you think that stereotype is true?
Yes, for sure. But my clients are all across the board—old, young, professional types, DJs, musicians, shoe salesmen, lawyers, doctors. Everyone can have a fetish.

The only commonality I’ve seen between my own clients is that they’re usually white men.
That’s true. Well, I get some Asians. And Hasidic Jews are big, because they’re so repressed. They grow up thinking these crazy things about sex and who they are as sexual beings, and they don’t want to offend God or their people, but when they’re with their dominatrix they can be themselves and just get it all out.

Has a client ever surprised you with his reason for seeing you?
There was this one Hasidic Jew who told me that he’d had cancer as a child, and as part of his treatment I guess they’d zapped whatever it was that made him able to produce sperm. But, as an Orthodox Jew, you can’t get married or have a family unless you can ejaculate, basically, because you need to be able to have kids. So he came in because he couldn’t ejaculate and so desperately wanted a family, a life, a wife… everything. He’d already been to doctors, therapists, and sex therapists, and I was basically his last stop. And I actually did make him ejaculate, at least a little bit, by peeing on him and spitting on his nipple.

Whoa.
But after that he got so desperate and would call me at all hours, like, “I need to see you, ahhhh…!”, so I had to stop seeing him; it was too intense for me. I didn’t get into this business to get involved with something so deep.

What’s your favorite kind of session?
I really like a corporal session where it’s just me taking out my frustration on some guy. I like seeing a man squirm or flinch as I’m pulling back to whip him.

Have you ever felt unsafe during a session?
Generally I don’t, because I’m good at screening people and getting references, and the place I work now has security cameras, and the clients know that. However there was one situation a couple years ago when a crackhead came in and was smoking crack in front of me and blowing it in my face. He was pacing back and forth, sweating profusely, saying, “You want to hear about the most twisted, fucked up fantasy?” and then started talking about fucking dogs and kids. I was like, “You need to leave now, this isn’t the kind of session I do.” He spent a while searching for his crack rocks on the carpet before he actually left, but I eventually got him out the door.

What’s the most extreme request you’ve gotten from a client?
Once I was burning a guy with cigarettes and he asked me to burn his taint.

AHH! NO! Did you do it?
Of course! I didn’t burn him that bad, I just kind of kissed it with the cigarette. I also had this other guy–a human ATM, cash pig type–who wanted to sign over his power of attorney to me and put me on his bank account, but that ended up not working because he was a little too high maintenance for me.

I read another interview with you where you talked about farting in a client’s mouth.
Yeah, that was the guy that would buy my used toilet paper. I would give him the toilet paper, he would nibble on it, I would give him a bottle of my pee or whatever, a then, for the rest of the session, he just wanted me to fart in his mouth. It required a couple days of preparation of me just eating broccoli and loading up on food.

Sounds traumatizing. So, what do you like most about being a Domme?
I like meeting people and finding out about what’s going on inside their heads, where they come from, and what makes them tick. Especially if they are freaks, and you meet a lot of freaks first-hand in this job!

Do you think being a “freak” is bad?
No, not at all. I’m a freak! Think about it this way: there are a lot of people who live their lives repressed, who don’t acknowledge their desires. And then there are others, like my clients, who acknowledge what they want, and go out and seek it. And more power to them!

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Pee Smoothies

Don’t you hate it when you’re peeing into a guy’s mouth and he starts puking? GOD, fucking amateurs.

Yesterday Mistress Dee and I were peeing on a guy, as per usual. Dee has been giving golden showers for years now and is famous within the scene for being able to piss for over two minutes straight. (She can control it so it comes out at a steady, medium-to-light flow.) But yesterday she had to go really bad, so she asked me to time her on her iPhone while she pissed into the sub’s mouth, to see if she could break her record of 2 minutes and 20 seconds. So the guy laid on his back on the floor and Dee stood over his face and pissed for a solid (I kid you not) 2 minutes and 59 seconds. It was INSANE. And the guy drank nearly every drop of it. He just opened up his throat and was straight-up chugging her piss. It was pretty amazing to watch.

Then it was my turn. I knew my performance was going to pale in comparison to Mistress Dee’s, but by that time the guy was already burping up gross piss burps and complaining of being “full” (eww) so I figured it didn’t matter too much. Plus, I recently learned this new trick where I can keep one foot on the ground for balance, and put my other foot on the sub’s throat so that I can literally choke him while pissing into his face, so at least I had that little gem to offer. (That doesn’t sound like it would be hard but it actually is–you try pissing while balancing on one foot.) So anyway, I started doing my thing and a few seconds into it the guy started vomiting! Lying on his back, vomiting up mouthfuls of pee and then swallowing the regurgitated urine again because he didn’t want to waste any of it. I was like “Uggghghh dude, get yourself together actually.” It was kind of gross. Then I made a joke about how if he was too full to drink my pee now that I could bottle it up and he could have it as a snack later–maybe even mix it with a banana or something and have a pee smoothie. And then Mistress Dee shouted, “Oh my god, pee smoothie! That’s genius!” and I was like “What do you mean?” and she was like “We should make pee smoothies and sell them for $100,” and I was like “Wow, that is a great idea, you are so smart for thinking of that!” and she was like “Thanks, you are so smart too!” and then we laughed in slow motion.

So… this summer Dee and I will be selling smoothies with our combined urine and two fruits of your choice for $100. Order in advance and then come over and get a fresh glass! Email karleyslutever@gmail.com to order. No time wasters.

YUM!

Photo by Nobuyoshi Araki