The Search

A Testament To Douchebaggery

I’ve been fighting with myself and others wether or not I should post this. It’s not something I’m proud of. Not my shining moment in the sun to say the least. I’ve decided to post it because I’ve learned something from it:

I answered their ad that mentioned they were looking for a submissive male to perform service for them. It would start out with cleaning and chores with a chance that it would lead to more sexual play.

We exchanged emails a few times, I answered their list of questions and they decided to meet me. I was excited to say the least. Finding not one but two women for service AND play? It seemed too good to be true.

It was too good to be true.

They wanted to meet at a sushi place on the Upper East Side, I arrived ten minutes early. They arrived thirty minutes late.

As soon as we sat down they started asking about me and my search for a dominant. The tall blonde suggested I shouldn’t have moved to New York from the midwest since it wouldn’t be any easier for me to meet anyone here. She said it as though she was bringing something to light that I didn’t know.

We briefly talked about what growing up on a farm was like. After I mentioned the fact that my father had to sell some his land, the blonde said “NO! Never sell land! That’s just not smart. You never sell land!”. She was pretty much calling my father an idiot. As though he had a choice in the matter. As though he had options.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him that when I talk to him next”, I said politely as I could while being sarcastic.

They asked about my friends in the lifestyle. The tall blonde assumed I had been to a professional. I told her I had never been but I did have friends who are.

“What are their names? I have a beef with a few Pro Dommes”

“I’d rather not say. I don’t feel comfortable name-dropping. and I don’t think they’d appreciate me using their names as a reference without asking them first.” She looked angry and I added “If it’s a deal breaker, I understand”. The last thing I wanted was to get a call from a friend saying “Why is this nutjob calling me?”

I was then asked what my budget was for dinner.

“Um. Nothing? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted me to pay for dinner. I won’t be eating anything since I’m tight on cash. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

I was then told that it was a given that I would pay. “It’s just good manners”, the tall blonde said.

Later the brunette would tell me that she had never been on a date with a man who didn’t pay. She looked at me with disapproval.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a date. I thought this was more of an interview for possible service. If you want me to go to the ATM and get twenty bucks I will”.

“See? That’s just rude. Then you’re putting the responsibility on me to say yes or no. You should just offer to do it”.

At that point I was glad that I didn’t go and get some cash. I was torn. I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt as I hoped they were giving me. Maybe they were having a bad day or maybe they really hated me for some reason.

We talked about my experience with service. I mentioned my positives and negatives (folding fitted sheets). I mentioned how I wasn’t looking for play in return for service, that I’m not the type to make mistakes on purpose in hopes of being punished. If they wanted to play that would be great but I wanted them to know I enjoy service for the sake of pleasing. They seemed semi-interested but it was hard to read them. I mention that I was looking for someone who liked the idea of a man in service to them and not someone who didn’t care who did it as long as it got done.

We parted ways and I emailed them to thank them for their time and wished them luck on their search if they weren’t interested in me.

One of them replied saying: “I found you to be rude and cheap and your presence ruined my meal. It was a testament to charity and patience that I did not leave sooner.”

Oh? And what is it a testament to that you would send such an response to someone who just thanked you for your time?

I’m wondering why I didn’t just leave earlier. Why didn’t I excuse myself the second I realized they were not what I was looking for? Why did I give them the benefit of the doubt? It seemed clear fifteen minutes into it that they weren’t interested. Why do I consistently find myself in these situations and never learn to avoid them? The warning signs are there. I just need to open my eyes. Or not block my eyes with my cock.

It’s been a while since this happened. I’m not angry at them anymore nor am I hurt by the experience. I’m willing to accept blame for this one. I should have made it clear that I was in no position to pay for their meal before meeting them. We’re still living in a universe where some women will feel I need to pay them for the right to clean for them.

There are some dominant women who use their dominance as an excuse to treat men like they’re a dime a dozen (probably because we’re a dime a dozen).

The most rewarding service I’ve ever performed was to someone who required me to bring a receipt for anything I bought while in service. It was clear that my service was the important thing, not my money. I was providing what they saw was the most valuable thing possible: my sweat, dedication and sincerity.

The most rewarding sexual relationships I’ve had have been from those who wanted to be with me for my body or for my mind (sometimes both). Once again it was my sweat, dedication and sincerity that they valued most.

“I’m Still An Asshole” or “Am I Normal?”

You know how I complain about not getting emails on those kinky dating sites? Well I got one and it reminded me of why I’m an asshole:

From Her: So how kinky are you? Answer me NOW!

Me: I’m probably kinkier than most, for the right person.

Her: You WILL add me to your favorites list, NOW!

Me: I usually don’t respond well to this type of tone. I may be submissive but I’m not submissive to everyone who calls herself dominant. Wouldn’t you want to get to know me first before ordering me around? Wouldn’t you want to see if I’m the kind of person you want to order around or do you actually speak this way to everyone in the world submissive or not?

Her: Sorry, i really meant no disrespect. I was wrong. i was feeling angry and i took it out on you. please accept my sincere apology. i actually don’t speak to anyone in that tone. if you think we could start again, i would be interested in learning more about you. if you don’t, i truly understand.

We continued chatting and that’s pretty much it. I was nice but not really interested.

So, why am I an asshole? Because if I had been attracted to her she could have said pretty much anything and I would have played along.

Attractive her: Your mother’s a whore.
Me: HA! You’re not kidding. Are you busy later?

Attractive her: I’m voting for McCain.
Me: Ok I’ll fuck. But only because you people don’t believe in pulling out. (Of countries or vaginas).

Not much else going on though. Having beer with Badman led to an interesting adventure. Before you get your hopes up, there wasn’t any sex involved or anything but it was fun. I’m starting to wonder if most people play and don’t have sex. Maybe I’m normal. Do most people have some mild BDSM play but never any sex along with it? If that’s the way it is I’m gonna sue for false advertising.

It’s been so long since I’ve had sex if my cock actually came close to a naked woman it would start to wonder if it was on one of those hidden camera shows like Punked or Candid Camera.

I’ve moved beyond desperation though, I’ve settled into just accepting that it is what it is and being pissed off about it. There are people who fuck and people who jerk off. If I had a corporate sponsor for this summer it would have been some company that makes lube. The way things are shaping up I could have signed a two year sponsorship deal with KY.

I’m just going with the flow, not looking online anymore. I’m having just as much sex now as I did when I was spending eight hours a day looking for it in every way I could.

So, here it is Friday night and since I’m not going to a swingers party I was curious about ($150 for single men) I’m staying home and currently cleaning the apartment.

Sexy huh?

For the near future it still seems I have a better chance of meeting dipshit Ashton Kutcher or Alan Funt before I see anything that resembles a naked woman.

And Alan Funt is dead.

In Search Of Le Kink In Paris

This is the view from the hotel room.


The view inside the hotel room is quite different.

I’m located next to Gare De L’est, I believe that’s french for “If you can see this, you can probably smell mildew”.

The A/C doesn’t work but there is free Wifi. I’ll take the wifi any day.

I’m on zero sleep for more than a day now, my best friend is out cold yet I’m tempted to go to the parts of town some new friends in London suggested I check out in search of BDSM in Paris.

One Londoner told me that Paris was not the best place to look for BDSM or anything more than fetish. One woman told me, “The dominant women there like to look like they can beat your ass and fuck you, they don’t actually want to beat your ass and fuck you”.

My best friend and I have gone to two kink events in the past three nights we’ve been in Europe. I can tell you that there’s a big separation between fashion and passion in London. (Fashion and pasison? Fuck I really am on zero sleep).

I’ll give a full recap of the fun had in London later (no sex or anything but made lots of new friends), right now I’m torn between taking a long nap that will probably result in my waking up 8 hours from now, or heading out to find the closest group of kinky people.

My limited experience (20 minutes) in Paris seem to disagree with the theory that Parisians are rude. I’ve actually met some very nice people who have been more than happy to give me advice and a smile.

Thanks to my Iphone’s GPS, navigating is much easier than it would have been otherwise.

Though, google maps doesn’t come up with anything when I do a search for “woman with a whip, a love of oral worship and a desire to sexually abuse tall New York City boys”.

Fuck the nap, the search is on…..


An email I just got from someone on collarme. I actually had my hopes up with her for a while there:

“This is probably going to add to your jadedness but I am actually doing you a kindness by letting you go before your expectations set in. Metaphorically speaking, the fact is that I am looking for an orange while you are an apple – nothing wrong with being one but it is just not what I am searching for (please believe me when I say that there was absolutely no solecism on your part and I hope you won’t waste time and effort in secondguessing yourself to figure out if there was something that you could have done differently – I think on some level you probably agree with me). So let us part amicably and goodluck with your own search.

It’s far too late to tell me not to waste my time and effort.

They always want the orange.

How Do You Flirt With Milk?

I’ve decided that sex is a higher priority than kinky sex at this point. I’ve been doing the vanilla thing lately. I’ve joined a few vanilla dating sites. One where I hint at who I really am, one where I come right out and say it and other where I seem like just another guy. The third one is the one with all the emails.

I’m working on my flirting skills as well. Normally I don’t flirt that much with people I run into randomly but I’ve decided I need to change how I interact with the world.

One thing I’ve been doing lately is smiling at a woman walking down the street toward me and see how long it takes for her to smile back. If she’s walking with her head up I can usually get her to smile 60-70 percent of the time. It’s a good thing to make someone smile. It gives me an emotional hard-on to be able to get someone who wasn’t smiling to beam with a big grin.

My most recent attempt at flirting was at Starbucks. I was standing in front of a woman in line and I couldn’t help but want to strike up a conversation with her . I thought and thought of a good way to initiate one. Then it struck me…Milk! I’ll offer her milk for her coffee!

I slowly walked to the table in the back with my coffee and acted like I was checking out something on my phone. I poured half and half into my cup, taking my time so it wouldn’t look like I was just standing there holding a big thing of half and half waiting for her. She ordered some fancy half-caf-moca-chapa-rapa-chino-late-grande-non-fat-thingy so it was taking a while. I timed it perfectly so I was just finishing my pour when I asked if she wanted half an half.

I imagined what her reaction wold be:

“You’re offering me half and half? You’re clearly very in tune with my wants and needs. You must come home with me now so we can roll around in my bed for hours. I’ll use your abilities to know what pleases me to quench this deep carnal thirst. For a few hours you will be mine and we won’t stop until every muscle in our bodies is worn out from succumbing to this lustful ache. You will fuck me and I will fuck you. And in the morning, you will cook me breakfast.”

What she actually did, was smile at me and reach for the non-fat milk.

I did get a smile though.