How to became a domina’s rental cock

How to became a domina’s rental cock
March 26, 2020 By Elijah Others

I sit in a chic Lebanese restaurant. Opposite me is the guy who will buy my sperm. A weird feeling.

Let’s call him Raymond. Raymond is chubby and has a room-filling laugh. He wears glasses and a t-shirt with a pop culture reference that I don’t understand. Raymond is a “cuckold”, a horned. These are the types of people who want to be treated like second class sexual partners; Guys who get excited when dominant women have sex with other men in front of their eyes. Overall, Raymond is a rather submissive type. He likes bans on orgasm and chastity. In short: Raymond makes it cool to be humiliated.

Mistress T. is on my right.

Mistress T is a professional dominatrix. She is also one of the most well-known actresses in the world of femdom porn, in which women play the dominant role. Your Twitter account has over 70,000 followers. Her fans mainly come from North America and Europe. Every day she gets dozens of emails from men who want to become their slaves. Some are willing to spend hundreds of dollars just to invite them to dinner. She lives in a beautiful house – “built by masturbation”, she jokes – with a dungeon in the basement. She is also a good friend of mine. I recently helped her finish her memoirs.

I’m helping her with another thing tonight.

Raymond came to Canada from the States to spend a few hours with us. Dinner and drinks are on him. He will take us to the nearby cinema for a screening of Henry & June. After that, we’ll go back to Mistress T, where I’m going to have sex with her while Raymond is sitting in the corner watching. She will tell him that he will never be man enough to do what I do with her. I’m supposed to get $ 200 for that. 100 for the act and 100 for my body fluids. He obviously cares that it is fresh. I didn’t want to know what he was going to do with it. Paying Mistress T is much better. Raymond is one of her regular customers. Your business relationship goes back years. Tonight I’m an accessory from Mistress T, a rental tail.

How the hell did I end up here?

I never thought of myself as particularly attractive. I have no animal attraction. I’m just a little clumsy guy with an above average head. Anyway, I’m going to get a little glimpse into the lives of people who have sex for money – and get to know the people who pay them.

It’s not the first time I’ve had sex to please others this week.

The baptism of fire: “Would you like to make porn?”
When I first met Alyssa, she had a cast on her leg.

“I overdid it at the gym,” she said sheepishly.

It was beautiful. Just as you would expect from a porn star. It had a slight Eastern European accent. When we met, she had no makeup and a loose sweatshirt. She had just shot a scene shortly before. We chose a café to get to know each other. We got on well online, but if you plan to have sex with someone else in front of the camera, you want to get to know each other at least briefly.

“The main thing is that you feel good,” she said. “I’ve been doing this since I was 19, so I myself have no problem doing pretty much everything in front of the camera.”

Actually it wasn’t me who came to Alyssa, but she came to me. Alyssa wrote to me on Facebook ten days before our meeting. We have a mutual friend who told me about her and her porn career years ago. Alyssa’s friend request reached me from nowhere. The following conversation went something like this:

Ich: How did I earn the honor of this friend request? Do we know each other? Maybe from [name of our mutual friend] s birthday party?

She: I just thought you were cute. LOL

Ich: Can I return!

[15 minutes of small talk about failed relationships and adopted dogs]

You: So, do you want to shoot something?

Me: seriously?

It wasn’t about money. Men in the porn business earn considerably less than their colleagues. And guys like me usually only get their expenses reimbursed – yes, you read that right. The clips that the actresses upload to their onlyfans.com pages are generally more difficult to monetize than commercial productions. So they have to be produced as cheaply as possible. Without crew and with amateur performers. For me it made things more appealing in many ways. Less money means less pressure. Alyssa also assured me that the video would be “POV” from my perspective. Even the orgasm on command – the very thought of it terrified me – could easily be avoided by using the wrong sperm. Apparently a common trick in the industry.

We knew each other through Facebook chat and café together when I arrived at Alyssa. She shares her apartment with her mother and two adoptive dogs. When she opened the door for me, she was naked. She seemed to do it as naturally as she walked around without clothes.

While I was sitting awkwardly on the couch and trying small talk, Alyssa was messing around and applying make-up. A relatively demanding task when you will be seen completely naked in the bright spotlights. We talked about her experience in the industry, her beginnings at the end of her teenage years, her work with guys like Tommy Gunn and Evan Stone, about a shoot that she had just completed for blacked.com – a site for women just shoot with black men. “I still have to get used to such big cocks,” she laughed. “I almost died.”

“You live here with your mother?” I asked.

“Yes, but don’t worry.” She laughed again. “It always goes out when I shoot.”

Against all my other worries, I had given myself a sedative and half a Viagra shortly before my arrival. The latter proved to be extremely helpful in its function, but at the same time it gave me a hellish headache. So I threw a few ibuprofen afterwards and tried to ignore my racing heart. Finally Alyssa came to me and sat on my lap.

We spent a few minutes messing around and getting physically closer. When we went to the bedroom for the shoot, one of her adoptive dogs bit me right under the ass.

The shoot itself was far less scary than I feared – which was almost certainly due to my drug cocktail. Having sex with a porn actress in front of a camera is pretty much as much fun as you imagine. Apart from the fact that I had to work while holding a camera in my hand, the job was amazingly easy. Alyssa was also a gracious and empathetic partner. I felt more comfortable than I ever imagined.

We kept taking breaks. We rested a few minutes and talked when I got tired. All in all, we were done in less than two hours. My orgasm did not come as expected, but that was what the artificial sperm was for. It’s good enough for videos.

The same evening I told Mistress T about my experiences.

“Children these days,” she said, wiping away an imaginary tear with her index finger. “They’ll grow up so quickly.” Then she leaned back and said, “Now that you’re an ‘experienced’ sex worker, how about making some money with it?”

I beg your pardon?

“My partner is basically a prop,” she said. “He has to get a stand when I need one, and he has to finish in a timely manner.”

“Phew, I don’t know if I can do that.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I usually give my guys a second chance. After that, they’re out.”

Those weren’t exactly the encouraging words I was hoping for.

The performance
In the restaurant, Raymond entertains us with anecdotes from his sex life – a smorgasbord of business relationships with professional dominas in other cities who abuse and abuse him. At his personal request, of course. I gave myself the same medication mix as with Alyssa. And when we arrive at the cinema, my skull roars again. We sit in the top tier and Mistress T and I start messing around with each other. Raymond sits motionless next to us, staring blankly at the screen. Slowly everything feels a bit uncomfortable.

We are at home at Mistress T two hours later. The uneasy feeling is still there. Raymond briefly pulls up his shirt to show the big “cuckold” tattoo on his stomach. I still admire his dedication a little bit. In the jargon of the horned I am the “bull” – an expression that I have to do something about, after all I have no muscles, exuberant self-confidence or physical strength at all. And if I’m the bull, what is Raymond? While Mistress T puts on the outfit he bought her, a red lace one-piece, we do small talk. When she’s finished, we lie down on the bed and she banishes Raymond to the corner of the room.

At the command of another dominatrix from San Francisco, Raymond is currently “chaste”. So he shouldn’t touch, but only watch in the dark. Although Mistress T and I have had sex with each other in the past, everything is different today. We go through the same movements, but this time consciously for an audience. Sex as a play. I do what the bull is expected to do. Meanwhile, Mistress T keeps looking over at Raymond, who is sitting in his corner, and berates him. He’ll never have what it takes to fuck her like this, she tells him. The whole spectacle lasts about 45 minutes. Then Mistress T sends me upstairs and Raymond and they go to the debriefing. Then she hands him the used condom as agreed. He can do what he wants with it. To avoid possible orgasm problems, I prepared it the evening before and packed it in the fridge. No shit.

The after-show
I’m waiting for Mistress T in another bedroom. Apart from a few strange moments, I’m amazed at how extremely pleasant the whole thing went. Before that, I always had a very special picture of men who make money with sex, just bulls, tails that guys are attached to.

But maybe Raymond and I are closer than we thought. I saw sex workers as substitutes, someone who fucks how and who I would like to fuck. When I watch them, I don’t care how nervous they are or whether they have Viagra headaches. I don’t care whether their body fluids are real or artificial or from the fridge. And I don’t care about anything. The guy is as much part of the imagination as the actress.

Mistress T and Alyssa are completely different people in real life. Perhaps the same is true for the world’s bulls and rental tails. Maybe like me they are just a little clumsy guys with unusually large heads wondering how the hell they ended up here.

A minute later, Mistress T opens the bedroom door and rains $ 100 bills.

“Welcome to the dark side,” she says. “So … do you want to know what he did to the condom?”

Before I can answer, she tells me. Let’s put it this way: I now know why he absolutely wanted it fresh.

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