I was still very thankful for my post-Beacon living situation, but it took me a minute to catch on to what my roommates’ dominatrix services were really all about.
I could see that the girls had positioned themselves as well-trained dominatrixes providing a very solid offering of traditional BDSM activities. They did have a decent pedigree stemming from their time in the trenches and an impressive number of long-time customers. Even so, there wasn’t a lot of day-to-day traffic passing through. At first, I thought it was because they were either lazy or selective, but eventually I figured out it was because they didn’t need it.
Cita had prepped me from the very beginning with the intel that the set-up was being funded by a pair of sponsors who covered rent and utilities every month- plus, I’m assuming, extra sugar loot for Donya and Marisol’s personal needs.
I never explicitly met these men, but there were several older guys who passed through often enough, and they all seemed extremely possessive of… well, of all of it. And these weren’t the type of men I’d have enjoyed having to spend time around- they all gave off “mob lawyer” and “union boss” vibes. Not my scene at all, but I guess these were the guys who had both the money and the mindset to finance this type of sub-legal operation.
On the surface, financial domination, fetish play and sugar baby services were passed off to me as passive income streams but as I got to know them better, I learned that this was actually where they made the bulk of their income. Kinda like the HQ crew- you think the money comes from flipping non-stop dimes of weed and dope and then when you’re in it- you see that it’s the wholesale distribution, the guns and EBT card schemes that bring in the big bucks.
Marisol and Donya told me that quarterly forays into the fetish and club scenes helped replenish their client roster though for the most part, they did fine by word of mouth alone. That little tidbit gave me shades of Mundo and Mr. Newark.
I mean, when I sat down to analyze it all, it did make sense to me- why spend five hours a day sweating it out in hot, leather fetish-wear, horsewhipping some fat slob who’s wearing a XXXL-sized French maid’s costume and a studded cock ring when you could make bigger bucks having that same man coming over to cook you a pot roast and clean your bathroom for you?
One thing was very apparent from the beginning- if I was going to spend time around these girls, I was gonna wind up figuring out how the independent domme game worked when played correctly.
I was more than willing to admit to myself that my freelance career was nowhere near what Donya and Marisol had built.
And I was getting closer to admitting to myself that I was ready to learn from them.
