Before I became a hypnodomme, I was a professional dominatrix for about a year (maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t – now you do). I was very careful about the laws in my state, what I could do and what I could not do with my clients. There were grey areas but to cover my own ass, I chose the “when in doubt, don’t do it” route.
Arthur had been a regular client of mine for about three months. He was a transgender, taking a regimen of hormones and seeing a psychologist regularly and with whom I worked in conjunction with whenever the need arose. He was due to have SRS (sex reassignment surgery is a surgical procedure by which a transgender person’s physical appearance and function of their existing sexual characteristics are altered to resemble that socially associated with their identified gender. It is part of a treatment for gender dysphoria in transgender people) in about six months and I was to see him three more times before that happened.
Arthur liked bondage. During our first session, I used ropes. A ball gag was placed in his mouth, his hands were tied behind his back. His feet were tied to each chair leg and then roped around behind him securely to his already bound hands. Our second session involved mummification. He was wrapped from head to toe (his mouth and nose were not) with saran wrap. He lie on the sofa while I ate pizza.
We spent a lot of time talking during his warm-up and aftercare. His psychologist confided in me that he was not completely sure that Arthur was, indeed, ready to make the final transition and perhaps needed more time. I was not to coerce nor express any personal opinion on the topic but, rather, I was asked if I could pull any feelings or thoughts from him that he might not have related in his therapy sessions. I did not use hypnosis (I was not doing that yet) but we talked and we both enjoyed each other’s company very much. To my knowledge, he did not share anything with me that he had not already shared with his psychologist.
This session, Arthur was bound in chains to a door frame. He wore a collar, head mask and the collar was linked to the arm chains which were then linked to wrist chains and finally to the door frame. Between his legs he wore a spreader bar which was then chained to the door frame. Secured tightly, I decided this time to read to him my favorite works of Virginia Woolf. I sat cross-legged on the floor, quite comfy.
There was no warning sign. No moan, no groan, no… nothing. In the blink of an eye he was on top of me. I screamed his name and demanded he get off of me immediately. He did not obey. Instead he said in barely a whisper, “I want you. I want you like a man. I want you like a man wants a woman.” He moved to let me out from under him and I ran to the bathroom. When I had calmed down and stopped shaking, I returned to talk with him. He was gone.
After work one day about two months later, I received a message on my answering machine from Arthur. “I was in bondage my whole life. I never faced who I truly was. I thought that I was a woman struggling to get free. Turns out, I am a submissive man. A proud submissive man. Thank you. Thank you. I am forever grateful.”
That was my last session as a professional dominatrix, by the way. But he gave me something that I now crave constantly. He gave me that moment where he lost control. Yes, it was scary. But it was raw, real and true. It got to Arthur’s truth and it showed me mine. I did not want to do this for money. I wanted that moment. That raw, real, primal, truth. I hunger for it all the time. Constantly. It is an insatiable craving for me.
When did I start using hypnosis with subs? That is another diary entry… stay tuned.
Names and/or places are changed to protect identities. Otherwise, each diary entry is true and accurate.