I’m at Disneyland with my family when my phone rings. I step away for a second when I notice that it’s a New York number that I don’t recognize. This usually means it’s a client. He is asking about the ad I have posted. I tell him I am available to do light to heavy bondage and corporal punishment sessions. He replies with something along the lines of “just some spanking – nothing crazy”.
Because nothing says sane like calling a stranger and offering to pay them $300 to spank them in a friend’s loft (although I’m the one answering the calls so it’s really not up to me to make that judgment call). I tell him when I will be back in the city, hang up and get back in line for Peter Pan’s Flight Adventure.
For a long time I thought of myself as a good girl. I spent years at Catholic all girls schools (where I volunteered at a homeless shelter and taught a ballet class to underprivileged children). I started working pretty young and studied literature and Shakespeare. Even now I work with special needs kids and my favorite movie is The Sound of Music. I am pale and blonde and silly and frankly I just don’t seem like a sex worker and a self-proclaimed BDSM princess of New York City. I seem more like a Jonas Brothers fan.
I discovered this darker part of my personality after I got sick. I left school my Senior year of college and spent about a month in the hospital and spent a long time after in a brutal uphill struggle of me vs. crippling despair and possible eviction. It all started when I answered an ad in the Village Voice – a dungeon looking for new mistresses. I got hired during my first interview and started work the next day. I went dungeon to dungeon before becoming an independent Mistress and then finally an independent professional submissive.
A big leap, I know. It has taken over a year to figure out this new part of my sexuality (and I recognize it is something that will never be fully realized) and to begin to integrate this massive interruption in my good girl identity. Part of why it’s hard is because people think we’re freaks. We wear collars and black lipstick and play terrifying sex games and play D&D and listen to burner music. Many of those things are true about many BDSM people. But it’s also true about other people too (especially the weird sex part). Wearing the identity is the only thing that sets us apart .
It’s hard to accept being a decent and good person who sometimes gets choked or receives emails in which older gentleman ask to be shat on. At the same time BDSM is shockingly normal and usually a safe and positive environment. I have met some of my closest friends and am happier than I have been in the past.
I’m still learning. I learn more about myself and the scene with every experience and encounter I have. So come along with me. Let’s explore. But let’s keep to the credo, people: Safe, Sane and Consensual. And if anything goes too far the safeword is red.
By: Fetiche Antoinette
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