Every once in a while, someone will ask me, How do you get to be a Master. I must say, it's a good question. I mind my own business, take care of my subs, run my D/s salon here in Vegas, and am quite happy with my life, but I don't think of it as exceptional. I have plenty of days I only get off a couple of times, though I suppose four or five is more typical. I don't really know a lot of other guys like me. The Internet, I must warn you, is almost all bullshit, and I don't have time to wade through it. But the question keeps coming up.
So I thought I'd make a pass at explaining how at least one of us got into it, and discovered the keys that let you live this way. I think there is a natural tendency, both Dominant and submissive. But most people never find it within themselves. One problem is the images, the black leather, the racks and gags, all that stuff. I have those all over at my studio, but they aren't the most important thing. Its really the psychology.
My experience has been that submissives are more likely to realize their basic nature than Dominants. It may just be that subs are more likely women, forced by frustration to question the assumptions that society tries to impose on them. In a big city like Vegas, I could have a hundred woman harem if I took all the confused females who come in looking for answers in the lifestyle. I have no problem turning most of them into customers, who pay amazingly high rates to come in and be abused. Then they go back to their married lives, with that confusing mixture of independence and slavery, and live in their fabled quiet desperation.
You have to have good judgment about choosing subs, too. I've been lucky that way. Just because they're willing to grovel, and get spanked every so often, doesn't mean they can really live the life. My first sub was my wife, so I had a better than average start.
I was just a patrolman in Bayonne, New Jersey when we met. I had won a fight with a junior mob type, and the department was excited as hell about my work. I had him cold with numbers receipts. The Chief had whispered I think there's a gold shield in this for you, Dorsey. So I was in this cop place, pretty wasted, and this great looking brunette worked her way up to stand beside me at the bar. She wiggled a little, and I looked down to see her tits, no bra, nipples stiff, and licked my lips. She looked up at me, Liz is a good six inches shorter than my six two, and licked hers too. She smiled, and licked again, while her hand took mine and a finger caressed my palm.
I felt her groin push against my thigh, and she whispered I'm eighteen today, big boy, and I just love cops. I never even got her name until I fucked her through her second orgasm in a handy motel, as she practically died from the violence of her climaxes. She told me later she had only experienced kids her own age, and hadn't ever been with an experienced man. But that night, she whispered I'm Elizabeth George, baby. Call me Liz. But call me anytime you want to do this again. God you have a big cock.
We got married six months later, a big wedding, she wore white, three bridesmaids, the whole thing. Her father thought it was great to have a police lieutenant in the family. He shared with me his philosophy about marriage: keep the bitches in line. So you can see, Liz had a start toward being a sub from way back.
But I knew nothing about it then, and more or less accepted the old social truths, both women and men should be independent, learn to think for themselves, all that. So I treated Liz like a modern woman, her own checkbook, a budget for decorating, vague answers when she asked what I wanted to eat. She quit taking care of herself about six months in, and by the time we had been married five years, had gotten a little dumpy, and seemed unhappy all the time. I noticed, but had no idea what to do, and started sleeping around. This is, you will no doubt observe, not an unusual story.
What happened to rescue us from a maudlin modern saga, divorce, remarriage, etc., was Elaine moved in next door. She billed herself as Mistress Elaine, which was just as well, her real name was Strxoszy Valenchek. Honest. You couldn't help notice Elaine, especially if you were always looking for some fresh pussy. She was around thirty, and very Goth anytime she left her place. After two weeks I knew she was running a BDSM style whore house, and was getting a taste of the bribe she paid to the Precinct Captain. He told me Keep an eye on the slut, Tommy. Hell, bang her if you want. But make sure she keeps it orderly.
She had nice long legs, and wore impossibly high heels to accentuate them. She teetered a bit, but who gave a shit, her legs looked terrific. Her tits were nothing to write home about, but she always wore push up bras. She was very thin, and I occasionally caught sight of her inside, with hardly anything covering her pussy, just a black thong. But what happened was, I came home one night, to find Liz, in a black corset, high as a kite, it looked like coke, sucking some guy's cock.
Cops get a lot of training about keeping cool, but I was off duty, and as Liz cowered on the floor, the guy started edging toward the door, while I just glared at him., thinking I should beat the crap out of him. Liz was mumbling, it's her, her idea, baby. She was kind of squished up, lying there, but one tit had fallen out, and I realized how miserable she looked. I remembered loving her, and wondered how our life had come to this.
What do you mean she? Who? That whore next door? I got down beside her as the guy snuck out the door. What did she give you, babe? Was it a pill, or what? What color? I looked inside her nose, and saw no sign of her inhaling anything.
Just then she muttered Pink, round. I sighed, there was some meth floating around that was got up in that way, and since I knew Liz didn't have any experience with drugs, it would have hit her hard. I picked her up, carried her up to the shower, dumped her in and turned the water on, cold. She screamed, but I just waited until she started shivering, then pulled her out, stripped her out of the corset, and toweled her down. As I lay her in the bed, her skin rosy from the rubbing, I cupped one of her big tits, and felt a surge of desire. She smiled, and dreamily whispered Oh Tommy, punish me baby, like daddy, I deserve it. I had to think about that, but was saved by the fact that she promptly fell asleep.
I charged next door, rung the buzzer, then pushed through and was ten steps in when Elaine came up what I guessed to be the cellar stairway, and yelled What? When she saw who it was. she stopped dead, then gulped. She didn't look Dominant at that moment. She had on one of those Merry Widows, six inch high boots, tits exposed, and her pussy, which was bald. looked puffy and wet. She had a whip of some sort in one hand. We stared at each other for a few moments.
In my official voice, I asked What was that you gave my wife? What was she doing with a man in my house?
She got a simpering look, and said That was one of her johns, asshole, she's been giving blowjobs for me for two weeks. All she asks is a little meth. You treat her like shit, you know that? Took you this long to notice she's high all the time?By now her hands were on her hips, and her face was red. Go ahead and arrest me, fuckface, takes me an hour to post bail.
I think it was the defiance that got me. Standing there, having gotten my wife hooked on a nasty drug, trying to stare me down. Probably a terrified customer in her basement. I took two steps, grabbed her by the hair, and as she yelped, dragged her into the living room and threw her onto a couch. She took a deep breath, getting ready to scream, and I pointed my nine millimeter at her. Her eyes got wide, her hand dived into her cunt, and she began to work her cunt. Oh fuck, rape me you cocksucker, keep the gun out, jesus, nice fucking cock Lieutenant. Oh yeah, fast thats it fast, migoddddddd...
It was over in a minute. I took longer than she did, but she twisted and grunted for plenty long enough to get me off. She lay under me, breathing hard, eyes wide and staring at me, as I huffed over her. The gun was still in my hand, laying beside her head. She reached up, grabbed it, and put the barrel in her mouth, watching me the whole time. Then she started to suck. I could hear the sounds of it, and felt myself getting hard again. She whispered All cops love to see me do that, Tommy. Let me go back downstairs and get rid of this john here. You go up to the bedroom, and get ready for round two.
She was back in two minutes, naked now, and there was a trail of fluid down one thigh. She had a long thin pill in her mouth, and two drinks. She handed me a drink, broke the pill in two, and handed half to me. We can last an hour with this shit, Tommy. I ain't much, but I know my pharmaceuticals. What the fuck are you doing with clothes on?
.... There is more of this story ...