Thursday, January 05, 2006
So, I’m preparing for the class I’m teaching at the Wicked Women conference in ten days: “Pro Domme 101”. Which might also be entitled, “Everything You Always Thought You Knew About Becoming A Professional Dominatrix, Debunked.”
Seriously, I am going to try to touch at least briefly on every aspect that I can think of regarding starting up a business as a pro domme. It’s only 90 minutes, so this will be the Cliff notes version, but hopefully I can make it a learning experience. (If you have questions or suggestions about things you think should be covered in such a class, BTW, you’re welcome to send them in. I don’t promise to answer you all personally, but I’ll consider your input for the class.)
Someone asked me, “I’d love to attend that class, but I’m not going to WW. How come you don’t teach a class like this at Babeland or somewhere?” My response: A.) Why the hell not? And B.) Because I don't want to.
It's an issue of who I want to spend my time teaching. Understand, I definitely don't make big money teaching classes - often, as with WW, I get nothing at all but a comp to the event. So if I teach a class, it's just for the pleasure of passing on my knowledge. And I do feel a certain moral obligation to teach the next generation of perverts, seeing as how lots of patient people shared their information with me when I was just a pup.
But I reserve the right to be picky about who I give my time to. There are a lot of not-particularly-kinky women around who are taken with the idea of being a pro domme because they think it would be easy money. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what I think about that. If I taught a class where anyone on the street with twenty bucks could walk in, I’d get a lot of “show me the money” girls, and they would annoy the fool out of me.
But it’s different at a leather conference. You see, when you teach at a leather conference, you know something about the attendees before you ever stand up and start talking. And what you know is: they’ve made a certain level of commitment to the theory and practice of being a kinky person. They shelled out a not-insubstantial number of dollars to attend the conference, and a lot of them spent time and money traveling to get to it, too. To me that means that they’re willing to self-identify as a kinkster, and they’re willing to mix and mingle with a whole bunch of other people who also identify as such.
Not everyone will do that, and it signifies something to me. It’s not that I have an issue with bedroom-only perves. Hey, however you want to get your freak on is okay with me. Mazel tov.
But if you want to take it into the business realm – well, now I have some ideas about where the bar should be placed for you. You could call it professional rigor, although there’s almost something religious about it for me. Anyone can worship in the church, but if you want to get into the pulpit and start passing the collection plate? Oh, my dear, you got to have the true religion to do that.
So before I start teaching you how to be a pro domme, I need to know that you’ve got faith. One of the ways you can demonstrate an adherence to what I consider to be the basic principles of good kinksmanship (kinkswomanship?) is by going to a BDSM conference. It’s not the only way - far from it. And god knows there are few dangerous assholes (that I know of) who go to conventions. But since I can’t personally interview everyone who attends my class, it’s a good shorthand method of determining whether I am sowing my seeds of my knowledge and experience on fertile ground.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Consumer porn of the day: Really beautiful couch. Gorgeous.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Like my gas stove. Now, I have a wood-burning fireplace in the living room, and that's nice, but in the playroom-to-be, there's a freestanding gas stove, which looks more or less like this:
I hate it. I mean, it does kick out the heat, and that's great, but christ, it's so old-fashioned looking. It is un-sexy, to the nth degree. I am thinking about just tearing it out completely, but it seems like a shame somehow, as it's fairly new.
And I did some looking around, but all gas stoves seemed to be similarly ugly... Until I found this one. This is pretty. Of course, it's also hideously expensive. The top one on this page is cute, too, and I'm guessing it's also pricey. My bad luck, to have champange tastes.
Okay, enough house stuff. On a much sexier note: Check out Miss Candy's kinky personal training. It's a niche service, but she's a great trainer, and I'm betting there are some pervy, paunchy boys who'd love her to beat them into shape. Yowza!
Monday, January 02, 2006
Happy New Year, everyone. I had a good 2005, but I’m looking forward to 2006, too. And I had fun bringing in the new year with an intimate little gathering of friends. Big parties are fun, but I just wasn’t up for a seventy-plus-people event after the madness of the last six weeks, so we just had a few close pals. Thus, there are no cage-stuffing pictures this year. (More blasts from the past here.)
We did get a few shots of other fun activities, however. (Note: Pics are not work-safe.)
And while I can’t see her face, Rossi was probably smiling, since she usually is when you play with her. It's a wicked smile, too.
I myself did not play, preferring to follow my once-a-year tradition of drinking champagne until I am...slightly uninhibited. It’s rare for me to drink alcohol at all, but I allow myself this indulgence on NYE. Still, I was very good this year. I did not forcibly disrobe and spank my attorney, nor did I piss on anyone nonconsensually. Roman and I did sing some show tunes, but you know, I can sort of stay on key if someone sings in my ear. Sort of.
Someone who drank less than I did has decided that my memorable line for the evening was, “Mommy needs some more champagne!” You may have to know me to realize just how lit I must have been if I actually referred to myself as Mommy. And while I don't usually have much of an accent, apparently I dropped back into my Georgia drawl last night, too. Lordy.
So, now that the debauched festivities are over, I’m preparing to plunge into The New House, Phase Two. I’ve got appointments with people to give me bids on new interior paint and new carpet. (The paint guy is someone Max has used before and liked, but if anyone local has a recommendation on a good carpet supplier/installer, I’d be interested.)
Less Fun: I also need to start packing and/or getting rid of everything at the current dungeon. I’ll be moving a lot of stuff, naturally, but there’s a ton of stuff I just need to get rid of. I have a feeling Craig’s List: Free Stuff will be seeing something of me in the next few weeks.
And I’m thinking about having a kinky rummage sale. Seriously. I have all kinds of various weird stuff that I don’t use – in some cases, have never used – and I should just get rid of it. I don’t want to bother with Ebay. I’d probably just make big piles and say, “Everything in this pile is a dollar, everything in that pile is five dollars”… ect. I just want to get it gone.
My next big social events: the bondage party this Sunday. Max’s good friend Tom is coming up to co-present the Exotic Bondage Equipment class, and then there’s party afterwards. The weekend after that: The Wicked Womyn conference, where I’ll be teaching "Pro Domme 101". And I have date to thrash Jae at that event, too - always a pleasure. My life doesn’t slow down much, does it?