I have been up all night. I have been looking for vanilla / straight jobs. I have been working on my resume and my niteflirt and clips4sale store. I have been doing that silly thing I do when I start to wonder how much longer I can take it in the smut business. Now that I am finally finished with school I am going to get a straight job. If only so I don’t feel like I am wasting my $170,000 education. I think I could have gone to the public library and found some smart people to talk to about philosophy on the internet. But I went to school so I could feel smart, so II could escape poverty, so I could have a good head on my shoulders and be well read. Now I’m gonna get a job, even if I don’t like it. Just so I can see what everyone else does with their days. So I can go to work and get a pay check and have a reasonable expectation that I will not be sexually harassed on a daily, and in fact hourly basis.
And today I thought I would open up my kind heart, I thought I would trust someone from the internet again. Even though this really never has worked for me. When I have good kinky relationships they develop organically. I have never met someone on the internet and had it ‘work out.’
But today is a special kind of hell. Last week I had foot surgery. So I’m hobbling around. I managed to get my foot into a boot so I could show this bitch what I wanted him to do in the back yard. We talked on fetlife and on the phone and he drove over an hour with some tools and a lawn mower. So I tell give him the tour and then he says ‘nah, I don’t think this is gonna work. It just does not feel right.’ And I’, standing there in the sunshine, my foot throbbing, wanting to punch him in the face because I’m not really sure I heard him right. Did he just tell me that after the several hours I have put into this little game to get my back yard mowed that he does not want to do it? Yeah, that is what he said. He needs to go, he is uncomfortable. I need my grass groomed, my toilet scrubbed, and some new locks installed on my doors. I ask him if I can borrow his lawn mower cause at this point I’m ready to say fuck the throbbing in my foot and just mow the lawn myself. He says it’s a job for a weed wacker, but he won’t let me borrow that either.
I ask him what the problem is. We talked about all of this on the phone. Is it because I’m bald? Am I not being mean enough to the dickbag? Did I say something that led him to believe that I’m not 28 like it says on my profile? Was it the drug story? He gives me the same tired line of “this just does not feel right” and hops in his truck and drives away.
Well I guess he does not get to stick around and find out how awesome I can make things feel. No, I shoved my swollen recently operated foot into a boot and he thinks he doesn’t feel right. WTF? I really need my yard dealt with, like you said you were gonna do, dickbag. I told you I was recovering from surgery — did his silly little bitch brain expect I was gonna be dressed in a latex cat suit?
I’m not sure because he would not even give me the respect of an actual answer. I would have rather heard something about how my lack of hair stressed him out, how he has a thing for girls in their 20s, maybe that my ass looks way bigger in real life. Or maybe he just wanted to get some of my time for free. Maybe he wanted to have an hour long conversation with me for free when I usually charge $2.99 a minute. Maybe he wanted to know where I live. Maybe he just wanted to meet me and never had any intention of being a good boy. That’s my theory. His fetlife profile assures the reader that he is well behaved and obedient and worth the time. He seemed like he had the potential to be a good slave. His fetlife profile also mentioned nothing about what he is interested in or what he needs in a dominatrix. It has enough information to say he wants to serve and that it is sooooo hard to find what he is looking for. Well your never gonna find the domme of your dreams if you run off like a scared little bitch!
I need a bitch with tools NOW. The last two boys who told me they were useful, handy, had tools and wanted to be dominated turned out to be chicken. I just watched a 50 year old man run away. Two days ago we worked out all the details on the phone — I spent way too much time telling him what I wanted done. I am not generally quite so welcoming to strangers but he seemed sincere.
I have been a professional dominatrix for over ten years. I just moved to new orleans and I actually need a bitch who can do some yard work, possesses an electric drill, can hang things, owns a ladder and isn’t afraid to get involved with a demanding woman who needs shit done.
right now, as in today, I need you to fix my dryer or hang a clothes line in my back yard.
and clean my bathroom.
today, or sometime really fucking soon I need my yard groomed.
It would be fucking wonderful if you were hot; but I don’t care if you are a nasty old pig as long as you can get this work done.
I’m sick of being stood up, snuck out on, lied to, and otherwise treated like a vanilla woman. I have a lot of kinky experience and if you like to be treated like a dog, told what to do, and rewarded or beaten with a stick depending on your level of competency send me an email.
put your phone number in the email.
include a photo if you are hot — if you are a fat pig just say so.
tell me how old you are and if you have any experience with a dominatrix.
This is a great opportunity to be a personal slave to a smoking hot dominatrix. If you have the funds and you don’t suck maybe I’ll let you take me to fetish con in August.
I’m hot as hell and in a bad mood. I need some shit done so get over here and do it bitch!
don’t be a chicken or a wanker — this is the kind of shit that makes dominatrixes become accountants and housewives. My tolerance for bullshit just dropped radically.