On Clients
Sometimes my callers and other clients let me know they feel a little sad and distant when I refer to them like that. There’s a boundary there, and they feel it, and to them it so often means that’s all they are to me; just customers, nothing more.
Only I don’t say customers, I say callers and clients, because to me, my clients are something special, and often very dear to me. They’re a special type of friend. I don’t often know how to express that at the time without sounding insincere or too sentimental (neither is very becoming in a domme), but to me there is a boundary there. It’s a boundary that curtains off obligation and duty and emotional discomfort from sexuality and play and that kind of sharing you can only have with someone who’s still just a little bit a stranger.
It’s sacred space.
It’s a flexible boundary that says, yes, there is an exchange of energy here, and you will give a little to sustain me, and I will take some of what you give me and weave a story with you, and we’ll spend time in that for a little while, and recharge you as I charge you. Quid pro quo. And I’ll take what you’ve given me and wrap myself in stockings so that I’ll be just as refreshed for you, the next time around.
Though I think Nightmare Brunette said it better.
