A few weeks ago, I got a new customer, James. Or, as I began calling him, Sissy James. Sissy James gets turned on by humiliation. The first time we met, he asked if I was into domination at all. Of course, I indulged. He ended up coming in every time I was working, flashing me the bra he was wearing under his manly outerwear, and bowing his head in shame as I mocked his humility during a few "lapdances." "No, mistress, I'm not a man, I'm just a sissy." Sometimes he'd give me a $20 bill to go dance for another guy so he could feel ashamed. When I'd dance for him, I wasn't quite sure what to do, especially since I'd established that I was his goddess and he wasn't worthy of even glancing at my beauty. It was sort of hilarious, but I felt it getting kind of repetitive. I'd call him a sissy, a pansy, tell him he wasn't worthy of me, tell him he wasn't a real man, all with slight variations, on shuffle. Sometimes I'd lightly slap him across the face or pull on his hair. I'd tell him about how some day I'd put a leash on his neck and take him for a walk on all fours. But there was only so much I could do! (My friend rightly pointed out that it was fucked up to mock him for being effeminate, and that perhaps I should instead mock him for having bad gender politics! Hat tip, RP!) The last time he came in, he was wearing adult diapers under his clothes, and also brought a makeup kit so I could put lipstick on him. (He told me that I should use his face as my toilet seat. I didn't, of course, but I did tell him I'd love to.)
The thing is, I got really bored with him, as easy as the whole thing was. (I didn't even have to undress for him!) Or, not bored, but (and, perhaps for the first time ever) at a loss for words. I just couldn't do it anymore. It's like I got domme and dumber. I called him a sissy, a pansy, a nobody, a pussy, a loser, a wimp, "not a real man." And then, I would start at the beginning again. When I ran out of words, I'd ask him to worship me. But all he could produce was a very stifled "You're so excellent, I'm nothing compared to you." Bo-ring. I think he caught on that I wasn't into it, or maybe I just stopped doing it for him, because he hasn't showed up since last week.
Anyway, if you see a guy wearing a Yankee's jacket with a brastrap peeking out, tell him his goddess is going to punish him for going AWOL on me.