Domina's Addiction

Domina’s Addiction

No, I’m not addicted to shrimp, but I have always been drawn to things that more conventional people would shy away from. I like fast cars. I like shooting guns. I like breaking rules. When the rules said that BDSM was bad and adult work shameful, I publicly fronted like an Upper East Side trophy wife, and I privately opened a bunch of commercial NYC dungeons. Keeping secrets was a big part of the buzz. My peers were running to their law offices and publishing jobs, and I was managing Dommes and subs in multiple dungeons. It was a buzz.

Unfortunately, no matter how big the buzz is, if you do anything long enough it becomes ordinary and boring. Over one hundred thousand guests passed through my dungeon doors in the 20 years I was in business, and I’ve seen every kink, fetish and peccadillo imaginable. At least 3 times. Boring for me, became day-to-day life in the dungeon.

Boring enough that it felt, well, almost vanilla.

When my lease was up at my 46th Street location, I was ready to leave day-to-day dungeon life. I moved to a big house in Litchfield, CT where I played Squire-ette of the country Manor. Not exactly a buzz, but definitely something new. For a few years I immersed myself in things like designing formal gardens, show dogs and shopping. Unfortunately, I reached a point when the gardens were complete, the show dogs were all champions, and I’d bought everything. All I was left with was driving too fast on north western CT’s twisty turny roads, which was fun for a while until rules kicked in. My speeding tickets reached a suspension-soon-possible level, and I had to slow it down. Soon, I was bored again.

The truth is, you can’t keep a whip out of a bossy girl’s hand, and it wasn’t too long before I returned to BDSM. I allowed some select playmates to visit me at my home. It was the perfect location. Five rural acres where no one could hear their screams, and I could peg them on my deck or tie them to a tree whenever I wanted to. I began doing video and phone sessions, again. Something I hadn’t done since the ’05. They kept me busy, and I played, virtually, with people from all over the world.

There were regular 2am calls with a London banker already at his office. There was late-night Skyping with a well-known director stuck on-set in some small burg. Late morning calls from the west coast industry types. Sunday afternoon brought me a cast of characters. A series of Long Island husbands hiding from their wives in attics and basements. An endless parade of working class guys, who would never have a chance to meet me in person, either because of distance or funds. There were adult millennials living with their parents—one who Skyped and wanked in the woods outside his parent’s house. I Skyped in my car in parking lots. Embarrassing my subs with the constant threat of, “who might walk by and see you”. What thrill seeking girl doesn’t want to be entertained by boys and their filthy antics? I got my buzz back. For a while.

My next phase included a return to Manhattan. This time I returned to my original outcall roots. I had my kink phone turned back on, and I dipped my foot back into the ProDomme waters. Outcall scenes soon followed, and I was anywhere kinky fun was happening—from the bucolic Berkshires and swampy DC to sultry Savannah. It didn’t take long for me to realize this was just the excitement that had been missing from my life. Mixing it up. Moving around. New experiences. New people. Chasing the buzz.

The buzz is this Domina’s version of crack. I am incapable of resisting an opportunity to strap-it-on, and bend you over your office desk. I need the rush I get from tying you up in your apartment, and threatening to leave you there with a dildo stuffed up your butt. I delight in forcing you to wank in the boardroom after-hours, and there’s no doubt that I will smile and tease you, while forcing you to lick up every drop.

I love the risk attached slipping into hotels posing as a guest—rolling my benign looking suitcase filled with the implements of torture. I’m energized by a quick spanking, while your unsuspecting family is out for a few hours. Even a simple scene like beating you on a street corner with a rolled up magazine feeds my obsession. Breaking societal rules—making you uncomfortable and filling you with trepidation—gets me off.

Now you know all about my addiction to thrills. How will you help me get my buzz?

Ms Nikki

P.S. I am considering worthy playmates anywhere in the tristate area that Waze and my little BMW can get me to… Also, I will not say no to shrimp!

[Feature image: Pre-session lunch at The Regency Grill.]
[2. Ms Nikki at the range. Tactical Arms, CT.]
[3. NYC dungeon locations.]
[4. Skype playmate wanking in the woods.]


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