Guy Fawkes Night a few years ago and a chat that sparked the thought of working as a Dominatrix

by Jacky Donovan on 11/05/13

It wasn’t quite dark outside, yet the conversation I was having with Max kept being interrupted by the pounding of fireworks, as if Guy Fawkes were on the warpath again.

            “Naked? And people being whipped?” A boom from outside. Max was incredulous, his eyes sparkling. For once I’d discovered something he knew nothing about.

            I nodded. “It was unbelievable, Max. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

            Crack.

            “In full view of everyone else?”

            I nodded again, enjoying recounting the night’s activities to him, getting a further kick out of the fact that, while I’d been party to the weirdest, most eye-opening night of my life, he’d probably been stuck at home, apple-bobbing with his wife and kids.

            Whizz.

            “How many people were there?”

            “I dunno. About a hundred, maybe.”

            “Bloody hell. And they’d all paid their entrance fee? And bought drinks?”

            Another huge bang, a burst of fluorescent red and white sparks in the sky.

            “So, you’re looking at, what?” I could almost see the sparks in his brain. “Two grand a night. Minimum? For three or four hours?”

            “I suppose so.”

            “Phew...” Max whistled. “We’re both in the wrong line of work. Maybe you should open something like that back at our place?”

            “Where?” I’d laughed. “In the cafeteria?”

            Boom.

            “I’m serious, Kim. Did you enjoy it?”

            “Yeah, it was great. Met some nice people. Saw some interesting objects. You can use Brillo pads you know. People love it.”

            “Honestly, Kim. Why don’t you think about doing something similar?”

            “Are you crazy? It’s a bit of a career jump. I don’t know if I could.” My stock response, again.

            “Why couldn’t you? You said you enjoyed it.”

            “And what about you?” I looked at him. “Wouldn’t you mind?”

            “What, if you were whipping people? No. I love our little escapades with other people. You know what it does to me.”

            Two more loud and colourful explosions in the darkening sky...

            I shivered. I knew how much it had turned him on when we’d fooled around with Rebecca last year, although his subsequent desire to do it again with her had pissed me off. Yet the occasions when we’d done it again with other girls had also fuelled our passions ever further and higher. We never did it more than once with the same girl though.

             And since meeting Danielle, I’d also picked up women myself from time to time. Well, quite a lot actually. Every single time it happened, I would tell Max. He got off on hearing about it just as much as I did doing it. And, whenever I was with another woman, it was as if Max was there, encouraging me, joining in…

            “I don’t know. I’ll think about it, I suppose. If I don’t get that other job I’ve applied for then I might just have to.”

            “And if you do, you might just have to anyway.” He kissed me. “I’ve told you it’s a dead duck.”

            “Shut up,” I said. “You’re not right all the time you know.” But as I ruffled his hair and thought back to the weekend, I shivered again. Did I want to continue in the corporate world of long meetings and late nights, rotting inside a corpse’s shell for another forty thousand years?

            Perhaps Max was right again. That it was time for me to do something else? I ummed and aahed over the S and M. I even found a café in Islington called S&M which I took to be a sign, only to discover later it stood for sausages and mash. Was I actually ready for a complete change of career then? Did I really wanna be startin’ somethin’...?

             Fizzz...