So I think I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been doing a little thing on FetLife of offering foot pics in exchange for nail polish gift certificates. It’s working nicely – I don’t have a steady stream of people buying me shit or anything, but I’ve gotten some nice little presents and everyone’s been remarkably respectful and sweet.
It occurs to me that, in order to be enticing and effective, online domme “wish lists” should probably be for luxury items and pretty shiny trinkets (like nail polish) – it behooves a woman to give the impression that she lives a live of indolence and luxury and that these men are simply lavishing extra attention on her. And probably the items asked for should be kinda sexy.
Like…it’s occurred to me to offer dudes an opportunity to buy me other things, but I think it would compromise my aura of sensual domly-dom power if I asked for the things I want most – like an electric shaver for my head, a shitload of basic everyday flesh-coloured bras because mine are almost worn out, or a sturdy knapsack to replace the one that’s falling apart.
Buying me fun stuff means I have the power. Buying me practical stuff because I can’t afford it myself means they have the power.
Reminds me of a friend-of-a-friend who works as a pro domme – her online presence acted like she was rich and stuff, but my friend told me that she really wasn’t. Her “favourite little space” that she sometimes used for a dungeon was her apartment, which she simply pretended was one of many spaces at her disposal. It gave clilents a better, more powerful image of her.
I’m also reminded of my own art modelling job, where I’m careful not to act like “Oh thank god you’re offering me work – now I can afford rent!” because that would no doubt make people uncomfortable. They don’t want to think I’m depending on them for my livelihood. They don’t want to think about the specifics of my life at all. They want a chick who’ll come over, be pleasant to interact with, and pose well, and that’s it. And so I always, always pretend I’m doing just fine and working a fair bit, even when I’m not.
It’s a lot of pressure, sometimes, having to act all nonchalant (“Oh, you need to cancel next week’s session? Sure, thanks for letting me know and call me when you’re free again”) when at times I’m really, really depending on that money. I like what I do, but in this tiny way I do miss working a “real,” “normal,” not-contract, not-freelance job. The only posturing I had to do at my office job was that I enjoyed it; the money came in steadily all by itself.