You always hurt the one you love

If you want to receive corporal punishment [CP] from your future partner, consider your limits. CP is like playing with fire. If you're careful, it can be warm and exciting. But if you're not careful about how you relate to your partner, there can be real pain.


Jake talks about a real punishment in his post :

she swung [the cane] so hard that the first stroke hit me in my lower back, right on the bone. Normally, the first few I can bear, but this was a whole new kind of pain, and I involuntarily shot up like a rocket and let out a prolonged wail

Well, you didn't think all those pain toys were just for fun, did you?

Paradoxically, your partner might not hurt you too much because she loves you. But she might arrange for someone else to punish you severely if you screw up.  

Yes, it depends on the nature of  your relationship.  

Maintenance Spanking

For lunch there was only a small turnout of a few locals and workers from the businesses nearby.  No turkey, just deli sandwiches and veggies. Sarah decided it was time to put up the holiday decorations.
"Get the ladder and the lights out of the back room", she ordered.

I was quick to move because I could feel my sore butt from the spanking she gave me last night.

###

When were alone at the bar the day before, we had a little discussions about what other people in the lifestyle do.

 "Dave, " She asked me, "what is a maintenance punishment?"

"That's where a couple sets up a regular punishment session to reinforce submissiveness in the relationship."

I noticed her puzzled expression. "I know a lot of couples who do it."  I try to explain the lifestyle to her and hope that she'll understand the things that Mary and I do. We wish Sarah were more involved in our lifestyle, but we don't want to force her by confronting her.

"Have you done that?" she asked.

"Um, " I looked around the bar before I answered her. There was a couple at the other end of the bar talking and a few patrons at the tables. "I had it with Jane," I said softly. We usually had a session early Saturday mornings before she saw her weekend clients. Sometimes it was so severe, I couldn't sit down. I was literally on my toes the entire day.


"You're OK with that?", she followed.

"Sure, whatever floats your boat".

"Does it float yours?"

"Yeah. I guess. I still go to Jane's".  We have a deal. She sessions me and in return I manage her clients for the day.

Our conversation ended when a few more customers came in and we took their orders.

####
I closed the bar that evening and went upstairs to the apartment. The place was quiet. As I slipped into the covers, Sarah stepped into the doorway.

"Dave," she whispered, "are you awake?"

"Yes. Is there anything you need?" I asked. I've learned to be attentive to her when she asks me this.

"Come here." she commanded.

I followed her down the hall to the bathroom. I expected her to point out to me how messy the room was. It was late (3 AM) and I figured I'd clean up first thing in the morning.

"Drop your drawers and bend over the tub."

"Yes, ma'am," I was surprised about her. She usually orders me around at the bar or when I'm in her bedroom but otherwise ignores me. I went into character and dutifully followed her command.

"You know what this is about Dave?" she asked.

"No, ma'am." I answered, trying to cover my fear,  "If it would please you ma'am , tell me what this is about."

"This will be your maintenance spanking," she said. She picked up the black leather strap with the holes and rubbed some body oil on it. She caught me looking as I was about to protest.

"Keep your eyes down," she said.  "How many?"

"Um," I was in a panic. I didn't want this to happen but I anticipated it. Me and my big mouth!  How many I could take? If I gave her a number too low she would realize I was just playing her. If the number was too high, I might get more that I could take. I had to think fast.

"30", I said. I felt an adrenaline rush when I gave that number. Fear and panic welled up in me. I knew I couldn't go back.

Sarah was a no-nonsense kind of person. Once she committed me to something she made sure I followed through.

"30 it is. Would you like a gag?"

"Don't think I'll need it."

"Sure? " she asked.

"Yeah", I replied. I'd had 30 strokes or more from Paul and I usually took it quietly, sometimes biting my tongue.

"Alright, then. " she lifted the strap above her shoulder. "We can't wake Mary. If you make too much noise, you'll get more."

She started in lightly, warming my backside gradually. The intensity picked up as she got near the end. I was breathing heavily, moaning as tears were welling up.

The last one was more intense than all the others. I heard the slap and felt the loud thud across the center of my cheeks. "Ow", I cried out loud.

"Is everything all right in there?" Mary called out from the hallway. She must have been listening to the entire session!

"Yes," Sarah turned toward the door, "We're OK.  Dave and I are getting acquainted with Mr. Strappy.  Go back to bed, sweets.  I'll be there in a few minutes."

She turned to me and said, "For that you get 5 more," and resumed whacking my butt with the strap.

When she finished she asked, "And what do you say?" as she laid the strap next to me.

"Thank you mistress," I tried to remember what Jane taught me, "thank you for punishing me because I deserved it."

"You bet you did," she said, "now I want you to remember this when you are working the party tomorrow."

I tried to sleep but my butt was on fire. I couldn't figure why she wanted me to remember the spanking during the holiday party. Was she giving me a message? Was she trying to tell me to do or not do something during the party? I wanted to obey her to avoid another painful experience.

#####
The next day, Sarah was feeding the strings of lights to me while I was up the ladder attaching them to the rafters.  My jeans slipped down below my waist. I was afraid the customers could see the red welts under my skimpy thong. I reached to pull my pants up.

"Worried someone will see the love marks I gave you last night?" she asked. The customers sitting nearby looked toward us.

"Yes," I said, "they don't know what we're doing".

"Oh, they'll figure it out," she said, "maybe you'll remember what you'll get if you go to the back room with your tricks tonight!"

Now I understood what she meant. Last year I turned a lot of tricks in the store room. I didn't realize how pissed she was about it. I would have to be much more careful now or face a more severe punishment from her.

"Nice going, Dave!" one of the patrons said.

"Lucky guy, " another chuckled.


 Be careful what you wish for.

share the wealth

Thanks Rori - good choices. Pls. visit many of the blogs in the list.

Shake that thing

Some guys might think a thong is a little too "gay", but a guy has to recognize what his best "assets" are. And he has to show them off the best way he can.

Besides, the ladies like it!

She wears the trousers and he wears the briefs

I work for Mary and Sarah, the owners of the bar. People who don't know us assume I'm a college guy they hired to clear tables and clean the place. My relationship to the ladies is a job and a living arrangement.

I started coming to the bar in the evening to wait for Mary. I helped out until we returned to Jane's place.  Eventually Mary broke up with Jane and moved in with Sarah.

Mary wanted us to stay together but she had to convince Sarah.

"Dave has been with me for over a year," Mary told Sarah one evening.

"Yes, I understand," Sarah was sympathetic but unmoved.

"But?" Mary asked Sarah.

"You know I just got over Jeff,"  Sarah cautioned, "I'm not ready for another man living here." She was worried that I might derail the budding relationship they had.

 "You realize," she joked with Mary, "if he moves in we'll have to wear bathrobes. We can't traipse around the apartment in our underwear with him around ."

"Well, Dave does," Mary countered, "When he's at Jane's he's in his underwear all the time."

Mary is often fussing over my choice of underwear. I like the comfort of my loose boxer briefs but Mary prefers something skimpier.   A few days ago when I brought the women their morning coffee she said, "are you wearing that today? Put on that nice jock I bought you last week".

Although I don't mind wearing my undies and a tee-shirt around the apartment, I really hate the tiny things she makes me wear.  "You know it makes you look sexy," she'll reassure me, "Sarah likes it too."

I dress for the women. Sometimes I feel humiliated in my undies while they are fully clothed.  Eventually I figured out what they liked. I learned how to strip and do a pole dance with the transgender guys on our drag nights.

Now when I walk into the women's bedroom, I do a strip for them. I slip my boxers off slowly to reveal the jock Mary likes.  I pick up my boxers while wiggling my butt toward the ladies.  I turn and saunter toward them shaking my junk from side to side.

"Well," Sarah said, "look what the cat dragged in."

"Yeah," Mary laughs, "it's our man-whore!"

Are We Happy

Most people outside the bdsm society think it is a grim world of dark dungeons, with cruel torture and cries of pain and agony.

"So, where did you go last night, D?", Mary asked.

"I was at the place of one of our customers, Lori and Jackie. We had a great time." Jack(ie) is a TG guy who lives with Lori in their flat in the SOMA (an inner-urban district where many in the alternate lifestyle live, also the location for the Folsom and Dore Alley Street Festivals) district of San  Francisco. They spend their time making jewelry that they sell online.

Lori: "I was looking for a partner as my jewelry business was growing. I'd had several women partners who, once they learned the ropes, went into business for themselves. I never considered a guy until I was introduced to Jack at a munch at Wicked Grounds (a coffee shop/hangout in the neighborhood) . He had been selling others' jewelry in the Street Artists program for years. He had lots of tats and body piercings everywhere - a real freak!"

Jack: "I had many short term relationships with women before I met Lori. They usually broke it off when I told them I liked to dress up as a woman now and then."

Jack and Lori continued meeting at WG for some time. One day Jack showed up in a conservative house dress and a leather vest. He told Lori that he was into dressing up "to be," in his words, "the woman I've always wanted to be".

Lori didn't freak out at Jack. She had suspected he wanted to be like this for some time. "Cool, " she said, "maybe you can model some of my jewelry for my next product shoot?"

"Deal", he said.

To make a long story short, Jack eventually moved into Lori's loft and became her partner (both personally and in the jewelry business). Under Lori's encouragement, Jack began wearing a dress full time at his new home and began calling himself Jackie. Lori advises him on dressing and makeup for modeling her jewelry. His customers prefer the new Jackie and his jewelry sales on the street have picked up.

Fast forward a little. Lori began talking to other women  about what to do with Jackie at the WG. "You should make him your sissy wife" they'd say. She attended some of EM's sessions with her clients and learned the ways of Femdom.

Now Jackie gets excited when Lori collars him before an evening of fun. I found an animated clip on the site: http://bit.ly/Wy4SgY   

She moves his head in place. He smiles and readies himself before she slips  the pink padded collar around his neck. "Now Jackie, hold still!"

The names we call each other

A subtle thing happens with the ladies at the S&M bar. When either one is getting horny, she'll call the other one by their pet name. Sarah calls Mary "slut". Mary calls Sarah "bitch".

"Is this the way you want it, slut?" Sarah will say to Mary in a teasing way.

"Yeah," Mary will reply if she's game, "that's the way I want it, bitch!"

This kind of conversation happens when they're about to call it a day. It's usually out of range from the customers, but I know what they're saying by the tone of their voice. It's the beginning of their love game.

Mary, the slut, will bend over, her butt facing Sarah. Sarah will walk by, giving her a discreet slap. "Is that all you got," Mary will say, tauntingly.

"There's a lot more waiting for you, slut!" Sarah will say if she's feeling feisty.

This dialog can go on for several minutes before one will turn to me and say, "Dave, can you close up tonight?"

"Yes,  I got it covered."

"Good, " she'll say, "we're retiring for the night" as she picks up a wine split.

The reality of living with the ladies is that they are deeply involved with each other and they need "together" time to sort things out. I stay at the bar as long as I can, sometimes for the whole night, to give them personal space, if they want to be alone.

Sometimes they'll want me to join me a little later. When they do, they call me by my pet name.



"You'll be coming to bed soon, won't you, man-whore?"

Meeting of the Minds

I've learned from experience that submissive guys can be very demanding. I have to tread lightly when I approach their strongly-held devotion to bdsm. Few guys will admit to being submissive. Many guys hide their fear and shame about their submissive role in bdsm power exchanges. Submissive guys are often attracted to dominant people but are easily scared off when they are approached by a Dom/me.

Until now I only watched Em beat her "slave" and force him to do "humiliating" things with us. I did not otherwise dominate him. I wanted to get to know him but the dynamics of our scene did not permit it.

"If it pleases you mistress, your slave would like to speak".  He had to beg her permission to speak. He never talked directly to me.

 "Mistress, your slave requests permission to submit to Master Dave". He would kneel in front of me and take me as she flogged his back.

I didn't expect Mark to call me. I figured I would eventually see him at Em's and he would pretend that nothing happened between us. But his short text came soon after I left the store.

"Dave".

"Yes Mark".

"Today?" I recognized what he asked.

"I get off at 3. U?" I'm usually done with the lunch activity at the bar by then. I have a few hours break before the evening crowd comes by.

"3 OK. Where?" I gave him the bar's location.

"The SM bar?"


Funny, but I didn't notice that people called this place the "S&M" bar before. Is it because it's operated by two partners, Sarah and Mary? Or is it because many of its younger patrons are into BDSM? I'm not sure. Although we do not have a playroom on site, we do play with some lucky patrons upstairs in our makeshift dungeon.

Mark came in. He was in jeans, a tee shirt and a leather jacket. His lace-up platform boots looked out of place, but I assume they're still popular with the "punk" crowd. He seemed nervous, stalking the place like a cat into a new room it has never been in before. He sat in the corner. I approached. "What will you have?" I asked.

"Beer"

"Right with you".

"Here you go". I brought him a bottle. "I have to finish some things, be with you in a few minutes, OK?"

"Sure" he said quietly. I left to check that everything was finished.

"I'm gonna be with that guy over there," I said to Sarah.

"OK", she said without looking up from her spreadsheet. Sarah likes to count the receipts at the end of lunch and enter figures in her laptop.

"Glad you came," I said to Mark as I slid into one of the chairs.

"Yeah, " he said. He seemed to be nervous. "Does she come here?" He glanced around the nearly empty room. A few patrons were chatting at the bar as a country-western tune was playing on the radio. If Em showed up I could give her a cover story about why I was here (since I worked here), but Mark couldn't couldn't excuse himself so easily. Lately the Fire Witch seems peeved about everything her "slave" does and frequently canes his butt for even tiny violations of her "rules". Any excuse, no matter how valid, would get him a severe beating from her.

I was surprised at how he seemed so afraid of her. "If you'd like we can go to someplace more private".

"Yeah," he said as he sipped a swig, "if you don't mind".

I told Sarah we were going upstairs as I walked past the bar. She didn't look up and said  "OK". When I have quickies with guys, we go the the back room.  For bdsm play, we go upstairs.



We sat on the futon in our family room. Normally I'm comfortable with guys I meet at school. We talk about sports or other events before we get down to business. I didn't know how to break the ice with Mark.

With girls, I can make small talk about almost anything. They hear the emotions behind the words. With guys,  talk is limited to doing things. I thought I'd try the bold approach.

"I want to tie you up like your mistress does and give you CBT and NT."

He was stunned at my direct approach and took a long swig of his beer. "OK".

"Get up and strip", I ordered him. I retrieved some toys from my room. He left his clothes on the futon. I tightened the padded cuffs around his wrists and clamped them behind his back. I had him restrained from backing out. I attached other cuffs to his ankles and connected them with a short chain. I attached that chain to the one that secured his wrists. He started to breathe heavily. I slipped a hood over his head.

"How are you so far?" I asked.

"OK...Sir", he said. I didn't have time for protocol and I didn't care if he addressed me as "Sir". I wanted him bad. I wanted quick results.

I clamped his nipples and attached the clamps with a short chain. His chains clanged as I tugged him toward my bedroom.

I released the chains that secured his wrists and ankles. I attached his wrist cuffs to ropes that were tied to rings in the ceiling and pulled them tight so that he was standing on tip-toe. His legs now showed off his muscular butt as it strained in the suspension. He began to dance around nervously. I spread his legs and connected his cuffs with a spreader bar. He was breathing heavily, in anticipation of what I was going to do. He had wood.

There is some mysterious connection that guys have between being tied up, the anticipation of pain and arousal. Maybe it's the adrenaline rush, the fight or flight instinct that the bondage exacerbates. I almost always feel panicky when someone secures me like I have Mark right now.  Why our dicks gets so hard I'm not sure. I was feeling aroused at the sight of of this young guy, his muscles taught from the suspension of his arms and legs. I was getting wood too.  

Meeting with the Fire Witch's slave

Em, her slave and I have been sessioning for over a year now. He is under orders not to speak to us when he is in session. I became attracted to his long, slim body and his lengthy cock that his mistress kept in rings, tied with thongs. I especially liked how he writhed as she whipped him while chained to the cross, sweat pouring from his body. I wanted to meet him.

I ran into him while shopping in a chain store. He acknowledged me. I pretended to need help. "Do you work here?" I asked although the name-tag on his shirt made it obvious.

"May I help you," he said automatically as if I were the usual customer. His name was Mark. He was known as "Mohawk Mark" because of the bright red row of hair he had in the middle of his head. He fit in with the other workers at the store who had body jewelry, tats and rebel clothing. His mohawk had been trimmed to almost the length of the rest of his shaved head  one evening when Em got peeved at him for something and cropped it before me. I could see the humiliation in his expression. She followed the shearing with a severe caning while he was suspended at the cross.

"The dried fruits are over here," he pointed to an aisle. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," I said lowly, "there is". I looked at him in the eye. Maybe he would realize that I wanted a personal conversation.

"I'm on break in a few minutes," he spoke almost inaudibly to the din of the store, "can you wait on the benches outside?"

"Sure," I said. I wanted to know what his relationship with Em was. She only described it as: "he's my live-in slave" but I thought there was more. Although the sex was great, I didn't want to come in the middle of their relationship.

He came out and sat at the opposite end of the bench. "Thanks for waiting" he said turning slightly toward me. "Please don't tell her I'm talking to you".

"How long have you guys been together?"

"Several years. Why do you ask?"

"I like you," I said. He looked at me. I returned the look.

"You're one of the best guys she's had in a while. Are you with someone?"

I explained my relationship with the two women.

"Oh," he replied as he looked closer at my face, "I see. You are..."

"I'm attracted to you," I said, hoping to cut through his defenses.

"I like you," he said, emphasizing the 'like'.

"Shall we hook up sometime?" I asked.

"You live around here?"

"Few blocks."

"Maybe I can leave work early".

"Cool."

We exchanged numbers. Maybe he thought it strange that I'd been fucking him for almost a year and never got to know him. I was fucking him under his Mistress' direction as her slave. She restricted everything he did when he was with her. Would his interest in the relationship with his Mistress prevent him from seeing me as an equal partner? I hope not.

Skip the World Series and eat strawberries

It surprised me when I learned that the home team was playing in the world series of US baseball.

Sarah does not want to install a television at the bar. Since it was the World Series,  she relented and borrowed one for tonight's game. Most of the patrons gathered near the screen to watch the teams play.

Mary and I cleaned up. When she was done she turned to me and said, "Dave, run my bath for me"

My first reaction was to protest since it was still early in the evening and I might be needed at the bar. I held my tongue and looked at Sarah.

"Since it's pretty slow here," she said to us, "you can go upstairs but I want Dave to close up tonight".

"Deal", I said. Mary tossed her apron and we rushed upstairs. 

Bathing Mary is a ritual we do together. I wait on her hand and foot, literally washing her body from her feet to her hair, kneeling at the side of the tub. Tonight she had other things in mind.

"Let's do some fisting," she suggested.

"Me to you, or you to me?" I asked.

"Both".

I'm often asked if I play with Mary as a master or a slave by those who don't know us well. My answer is "both".

The ones familiar with the BDSM world will further ask:  "do you switch?"

"I guess we 'switch'", I reply.

"Oh," they'll say, "sometimes you're the top and sometimes she's the top?"

"Not exactly. We 'top' and 'bottom' in the same session".

Tonight was like that. I was first up. I laid face down on the bed and Mary began flogging my back and legs. After I was "warmed" up, she spanked my butt with a leather paddle. She lubed her fingers and inserted them in me. She felt my prostate and asked, "how does it feel?"

"You're right on my g-spot" I told her. She worked at it with one hand while digging into my back with her nails. Once I was fully opened up, she attached a large dildo to her strap-on. She grabbed my shoulders and thrust the plastic cock deeper until it was in as far as it would go. When she pulled back, it made a popping sound. She rocked back and forth, plunging the dildo in and out. The base of the dildo aroused her when it pressed on her mound with her thrusts.


It was my turn. I wound leather strips around her wrists and attached them to the the corners of the bed. I wrapped a blindfold over her eyes. I started to play rough with her body, biting, pinching and slapping from her neck to her thighs. I wrapped straps on her ankles and raised her legs as I attached them to the rings on the bedposts. I flogged her opening, starting with the sides and working into the center. I inserted my fingers and began swirling them around as I opened her pussy. When I could get my hand in, I found her g-spot and began stroking with one hand as I rubbed her clit lightly. She began to moan as she tried to push off the bed. Little spurts of fluid squirted from her.

When we finished, I started her bath and led her to the tub. I tickled her toes as I lathered her feet with the soapy washcloth. I gripped her legs and slid the cloth up her legs to her crotch.

"Would you like me to shave them tonight?" I asked her.

"Yes," she replied, "do everything".

I shaved her legs up to her mound and raised each leg, clearing the hairs around her butt and pussy. In a short time her short blond hairs were gone from her legs and nether region.

"I'm going to start your hair". She slid deeper into the tub as I ran the water over her hair. I  lathered some shampoo in my hands and gave her a head massage. 

I rinsed the soap off her head and combed her hair.

When we were done, she stood up and leaned on me as I toweled her off. I guided her feet into the slippers and led her to bed. She slipped into the covers.

"Bring me some wine and something to eat" she said.

I brought her a glass of wine and a bowl of strawberries with some yogurt. We made small talk as I knelt on  the side of the bed.

"Would you like some?," she asked.

"yes," I replied, not trying to sound too eager. 

She dipped a strawberry in the yogurt and opened her legs. She stuck the treat at the opening of her pussy. "Hands behind your back, " she ordered, "come and get it".

I slipped in between her legs as she led my head to the spot. I licked the yogurt off the strawberry, and laved her lips.

"Mmmm", I said.

"Would you like more?"

"Yes, please", I said. She giggled at how delighted I was to eat her strawberries this way. I like Mary a lot and it is an honor to serve her. I never take her for granted.  When I'm with Mary like this, I'm also considering her primary relationship with Sarah. I often feel I'm warming Mar for her evening with Sarah. If I go too far, there may be jealousy. If I do nothing, Mar becomes insecure and upset. Some friends experienced in poly relationships suggest we should meet and discuss these issues. Our relationship evolved from a "V": I was 'tight' with Mar, and Sarah was also 'tight' with her but I wasn't intimate with Sarah. In time, Sarah and I have been getting to know one another and testing our levels of intimacy. Sarah separated from Jeff, the previous bar owner, before she met me. She's reluctant to get too close to another guy for now. The bdsm stuff Mar and I do also made her feel squicky at first, but she's now accepting most of it and trying some things with Mar and I.

Maybe we should talk about our feelings more thoroughly. For now,  Mar and Sarah have agreed on our rituals and that's how it works out for us. It's a delicate balancing act I perform to keep the two women in my life happy.

I dressed and returned to the bar.  Sarah was watching the game with the patrons. She looked me over. She saw the scratches on my chest that the leather vest didn't cover. She sniffed me and recognized the smell of Mary's pussy on my face.

"Did you eat strawberries?," she asked.

"Yes, " I replied, "they were tasty".

"Good, " she said, smiling, "I think I'll go up and try some myself".

I knew Mary would be waiting for her.

"Enjoy!" I told her as I joined the patrons and watched the rest of the game.

Should Erotica Be Censored?

I apologize for being a little off-topic here but I will briefly mention the link to my post in my "erotic reading" site regarding the recent censorship of erotica by PayPal, Amazon, et. al. Follow this link:
http://bit.ly/Abbn0e

Censorship is a slippery slope. If they start with some kinds of erotica, where do they stop? Will books on "Breast Cancer" be banned? It may not be that far-fetched as I have noted that some blogs that discuss "Breast Cancer" are filtered out by "family-friendly" or "Christian" web filtering software.

For those of you who are members of "erotica forum", to read more discussion, follow this link: http://bit.ly/wSsK7s

Straight, Gay, bi, transgender or pansexual - do labels make a difference?

Since Kinsey, there has been an effort to catalog people's sexual preferences. Kinsey interviewed subjects and indicated their sexual propensity between heterosexual and homosexual on a scale of 1 to 6. Researchers subsequently refined the scales to include other paraphilla (fetish, transgender, etc.)



There is a lot of discussion in the blogosphere about the differences between the labels. A more recent one ( http://bit.ly/w5D6Gl ) makes a point that bisexuals are binary with the opposite sex only and ignore transgender possibilities. The post also said that transgender labels ignore the bisexual aspects.

The author wrote: "In bisexual texts I’m erased as a transgender person, and in transgender texts, I am erased as a bisexual person"

I do not disagree with  the author(s)' intellectual  positions but I don't think it matters with my personal relations. Here are a few snippets of how I relate to people of various "labels".

I stopped actively looking for clients when I went to college full time but eventually I needed the money, tuition rises and all. I still have "legacy" clients, people who will call me when they come into town. Men come here from all around the world for medical and technical conventions. The women are usually well-heeled matrons that drive up from the upper class suburbs for a day of shopping and fun. I've come to know all the side entrances to the hotels and the names of the clerks who work there.
As an escort, I wait for men or women to call me. We set the time and agree to the scenario that we like such as "dinner", "bar", "hotel room", etc. They come to know what my services are and expect me to deliver. I keep myself well-groomed and I'm always punctual.

Guys prefer to get into the sex right away: a little caressing, nipple pinching, a bj and then a fuck. Most only let me their first name. "Call ya later, Dave", they'll say as I pick up the payment on the nightstand.

"Ok," I say as I slip on my clothes, "see ya, Bob" as  I slip out of the hotel discretely.
I don't usually "date" a women who I don't know or does not know about my escort services because it can take too long to close the deal. On those "cold" dates, we often chat for hours even in a typical scene before we get physical. I can remember many times when I was too engrossed in the conversation with a woman when she'll say something like: "When are you going to sleep with me?"

"Oh", I reply with a slight surprise, "you want to do that?. Well, I never," I fake the propriety with a Southern accent. We laugh.

If a woman discloses to me that she is also an escort then we can abandon pleasantries and get down to business immediately. We start with, "Shall we..." and  I'll suggest some likely activity. 

She'll say: "I like it if a guy does ... to my ..." or "I like ...sex", etc. There is back and forth. Usually we settle on some scenario and get into it just like with men.


With Em (Fire Witch), we established what we would do the first night I met her. I was hot for her. She wanted certain things. We agreed on a time that fit our schedule. When I met her later (3 AM) she said she was getting tired and wanted to go the main event directly. I developed a practice of oral service and the body worship she prefers. With a little practice I have become her "sex toy" that she calls after a day of tricking. When she's with johns, she gives them what they want. When she's with me, she gets what she wants.

Mary told me the kind of scene she liked (MMF) and so I arranged a threesome with Kyle. Kyle and I do the things we've done with each other as Mar watches. Once she's aroused, she'll join in as Kyle and I daisy with her.

Threesomes with members of the coven are usually arranged by the women. Scenes have a lot of play with their mate while they watch, something they call  "forced bi". Eric, Goeff and Tom were at first reluctant to get down with me, but they gradually came to like the anal sex with their prostate massage. They now pretend to resist as their Domme's force them to kneel and take me and bend over on the bed.
On "ladies night" at the bar, I dress in drag. Women and men who dress as women are not charged the cover for a lineup of dyke, tg, genderqueer bands. Mary helps me with the makeup and I do this in keeping with the spirit. I don't get turned on by women's clothing and don't understand why women would wear something that is uncomfortable. At the bar, the dykes are dressed in boots, jeans and flannels, while I serve them in a 1950's style cocktail dress and pumps.

"Come to Daddy," they'll say as they pull me into their laps. "Be a good wife and kiss me!", they laugh as I camp it up for them.

Straight guys will think this drag act is wierd until they see me go to the upstairs apartment with women they thought were "lesbians".

Some of you may remember my encounters with Andy, the shemale. He frequents the bar in a "metrosex" getup: clothing that women or men might wear. He has long blond surfers hair that he has coiffed. His lipstick and eyeliner is subtle, his nails impeccable.

When I first served him, I saw him checking out my ass in the tight leather pants I usually wear. He would drop a napkin on the floor and saye, "Dave, come here and pick up my napkin".

I asked Mar what this was all about. She said, "just do what he says, Dave". I go over to his table where he is giggling with some other shemales.  I turn away from him, bend over and and stick my butt in his face. He slips a dollar in the back of my boxer-briefs. If I let him fondle my ass, he'll leave a bigger tip.

Although I'm not a "boobs" man, I was attracted to Andy's prominent pair and the bulge in her crotch. I flirted for a long time with him and eventually mustered up the courage to tell him I was hot for him. I had an earlier posting about our first "date" last Christmas Eve. We scene on his terms: he ties me up to a sling and penetrates me. If you were to label what we do it might be femdom, transgender and leather.

I'm not sure what "labels" should be given to my friends and our scenes. We rarely think about who is "gay", "straight", "bi", "tg". Instead we think of things we do together.