I’ve returned to NiteFlirt…barely. The truth is I set up my account and then promptly avoided it. Because I’m scared.

No, I’m not that scared of being stalked or something. I mean, yes, that is always a fear, but if I’m honest, that’s a fear just all of the time regardless of whether I’m engaging with sex work. I’m a single woman and and a musician and opinionated, and there is just a subset of people who want to put a woman like that in her place, or stalk her, or whatever. I’m less afraid that someone online will do the work of finding me and foot the expense of coming to me, than I am that a man may spot me at random and decide to fuck with me. It’s just a thing you always have to be vigilant about. That’s not what has me particularly scared.

What has me scared is the culture, and what I contribute to it.

MAKE NO MISTAKE: I am a defender of BDSM and sex work. I do NOT believe that sex work warps young men’s brains. That would be the tech platforms doing that–and they are doing it in mainstream spaces.

In FemDom, we play-act that we’re in a world where women are in charge, and they derive sadistic satisfaction from making men submit. For a long time, when I was starting out, I tripped over the idea that in these fantasies, the women were in charge, but they wanted me to do things that, quite frankly, a woman would never do or even think to do. It seemed to have nothing to do with submitting to women. I do not know any women who derive sexual satisfaction from humiliating men with small penises. That includes those who are professional dommes, and dommes for fun, and just vanilla women. I also don’t know any that would think having a whining man with a small penis chained up in the back yard would be anything but a hassle. I don’t know anyone who would rather deal with that man than clean her house herself. I really don’t want to have to get a strap-on and screw a guy while he cleans my oven–I’d really rather just clean the oven myself and get it done right. I don’t want a man I find repulsive to go down on me before a guy I actually find attractive has sex with me. I want the guy having sex with me to also be the guy going down, and I want him to be attractive, and I find it offensive that a man should find eating pussy a degrading act.

And I cannot imagine a “dominant woman” or “alpha female” thinking, “Yeah, bitch, isn’t it HUMILIATING to eat my pussy? That’s how far below me you are!”

Clearly, the people who came up with femdomme did not want actual women in charge.

It started to click for me when I simply said to myself, “How would the worst man treat a ‘bitch’?” And that’s when I started to do really well.

That’s where I started, but it’s not where I finished. Because once I got into domination, and understood the mood these guys were going for, then I could get into all of the nuance involved. FemDomme is a little confusing, because for some of your clients, it’s a genuine love for a fantastical idea of women in charge. For some, it’s rooted in their resentments towards women. For some, they just want to be told no in a world full of too much yes, when it comes to sex. It’s true that their fantasies have nothing to do with women and what they are actually like, or even what women HOPE to be like in THEIR fantasies.

But it also has less to do with a flawed fantasy of women, and everything to do with a fantasy about themselves. They are less saying, ‘I want women to be like this,” and more saying, “I want to be like this.” They want to be completely cornered and unable to escape. And when men think of how that would play out, they picture male tactics–art of war tactics. Police tactics. Interrogation tactics.

While a few of my clients have had stupid views of men and women, the vast majority of them lived pretty normal lives, had mutually respectful relationships with women (and yes, I know some would make the argument that calling a phone Domme is not respectful towards their wives. I would argue that their wives absolutely do not want their worlds wrecked by hearing their partner’s fantasies. A man might want to be degraded. But that doesn’t mean he wants his wife to lose all respect for him.) That’s his real life. Whereas our sessions were just where he would play with this fantasy of wanting to be cornered and owned by an all powerful woman.

But the lines of real life and fantasy have blurred. And now, in mainstream culture, men are being told that women truly want to harm them, own them, and create a female dominated world where men are slaves to women’s pleasure–and that their pleasure is your humiliation.

What I fear is that what was once men calling to play out a fantasy that was obviously unrealistic, will now be men calling to hear “the truth confirmed.”

It’s why it’s so important to be able to draw a line between fantasy and reality. In fantasy, we can play with things that are foreign to us or ridiculous. We can have fun with things knowing that they would not work in real life. We can indulge the parts of us that are cruel or that are vulnerable, knowing we will leave it behind when we come back to reality.

But when the reality you come back to is one where you are told that women are harming you by denying you sex, and that women enjoy your humiliation, are worthless, want something for nothing, and that you need to control them before they control you–

Suddenly playing the dominatrix seems less “all fun and games” and seems more like contributing to that narrative.

And while I applaud that women are being choosier about their partners these days, and rethinking relationship dynamics entirely, I do worry that for a lot of isolated young men, I will be the ONLY representation of a sexual woman they encounter. Me and the other dommes–because domination now rules the sex industry. Which was not the case when I started in 2008. It was still niche.

I am not worried that I am mindfucking men. But I do believe the internet has fucked up my profession. Because what I do depends on a session having a beginning, middle and end. But now their session continues after they leave me. I am part of their endless domination scroll, and no matter how consensual and ethical our session is, it is part of something bigger that is not consensual, and not ethical.

The obvious answer would be to give it up. But there are a couple of problems with that.

First of all, I believe people who are lonely (and I don’t mean necessarily people with no people in their lives, but people who have no one they can show certain parts of themselves) need human companionship. And if you have very specific kinks, fetishes, and sexual dynamics, if the human sex workers quit, they will turn to tech robots.

That is unacceptable for combatting the culture that blurred the lines between fantasy and reality to begin with. And THAT is what has fucked up and radicalized men. Not the playacting of fantasies.

Secondly, on an individual level, yes, I believe the work I do is very important to my clients. I don’t want to abandon them–particularly the older ones, who didn’t come up in this culture, who are as befuddled by the idea of an AI companion as I am. Why punish them just because young men today have been warped into shitbags?

And then, for the young men, they need to see a representation of BDSM that is human–and by that, I suppose I mean animal. It’s a weird thing to say, because BDSM involves a lot of unhuman and inhumane fantasies. Sci-fi adventures in outerspace, underwater adventures where women are mermaids, and the men have to hold their breath–I mean, all kinds of just not human stuff.

But that’s why it’s particularly important to see humans operate in these spaces, and laugh together at the parts that are silly, and have to collaborate together about what comes next and come to decisions about what is so out there that it breaks the fantasy. When two humans are performing together, rules get formed, and there is a check on the fantastical nature of what you’re doing.

Also, humans get tired. And they need to see that, too. While I know I’m not the norm, here, for my clients, it is usually ME who ends the session and says “That’s enough for now.”

I do this both for myself, AND for my clients. If we hit the two hour mark and you want to keep going, sorry, the show is over. You need to live your life, and then come back to me tomorrow if you want.

This is good. It keeps the fantasy therapeutic, and not harmful. Fantasy is a place to explore, not a place to live. No fantasy, and your life is oppressive. Too much fantasy, and your life is oppressive. I aim for that sweet spot.

But with the rise of AI companions, there will be absolutely no check on a client’s mental health. And I am certain that men will spend all day every single day in a world where women want nothing but to humiliate and degrade a man–because the women are robots who are not only programmed to be that, but are also demanding your attention 24 hours a day, and jealous of outside relationships that threaten the hold they have on you.

There will be no coming back to yourself. And not even a good check on your finances. I don’t blame women for keeping men on the phone all day–get that bag girl. I don’t mind it, because that they are being paid IS the check. You will know when you check your bank balance if you need to lay off the fantasy, because the fantasy costs you.

As it should be. Not JUST because of the real work involved for the Dominatrix, but because without that immediate consequence for your actions, the harm of ALL FANTASY ALL THE TIME will sneak up imperceptibly, and you’ll never know how you got to be completely controlled by your fantasies.

Part of what is appealing about BDSM for so many is that there are rules and consequences and mutually beneficial negotiations–it makes things clear. It is, honestly, one of the most glorious things about BDSM.

Playing the part of a man’s fantasy for per-minute pay is entirely different than existing for the soul purpose of BEING a man’s fantasy 24 hours a day for free. The rules, the consequences, the mutually beneficial negotiations all disappear.

I think, just as we’ve seen with the endless supply of porn that is arranged in such a way as to keep the user clicking in an addictive way, AI companions will leave men feeling disappointed at what they’ve lost, unfulfilled and not quite understanding who’s to blame. It will make the sex worse, and also addictive. In such a scenario, it’s unlikely they’ll try to remedy it by paying for sex with a human, who will feel, at first, without a good detox from AI, unstimulating and expensive.

Which is exactly what these men will need in order to enjoy sex again. But it’s a pretty damn hard sell to people in the throws of addiction. Which is ironic, because those rules and boundaries and the expense are basically the core of BDSM’s appeal. And the AI robots, who will be as endlessly cruel and humiliating as you want them to be, will actually represent the opposite: A world of no rules and endless indulgence. No tease. No denial.

Yesterday, I hit a milestone on SoundCloud with over 100,000 plays since 2020. It’s my most successful work as far as reach or influence. For better or worse, I’m in this scene. So there’s only one thing to do: Do it well. Do my best work, and try to be as ethical as I can about it. And beyond that, keep talking about it. Make that line between fantasy and reality sharp.

As for SmutMag, I’ll continue to have eraudios (which is what I keep accidentally saying when I say “erotic audios” so I’ve decided to make it a thing) play after dark on SmutMag, but I will likely change the formatting a bit, adding in more music in between, and other things, like reminders that this is all fantasy.

And just as important if not more: I must get back to being serious about making really great erotica. We aren’t going to win against the robots with erotica that lectures or hedges.

But we have to stop thinking of erotica and porn as ONLY being sensational–we need to start thinking about creating fulfilling sexual experiences as well.

The fantasy should be degrading. Not the way you consume it. Not the actions it leads you to.

The truth is, I haven’t figured it all out yet. I’m always learning as I go. But I know that the problems of sex online won’t be fixed from professionals in the field backing away. For whatever reasons we got into it, which were almost assuredly NOT to be responsible for the mental health of men, or for the purpose of saving democracy, that onus is on us now.

I hate the word “sex worker” because it doesn’t really denote what we do. When I first started in phone sex, we called ourselves “Fantasy artists,” which, however “cringe,” is more accurate. That is what we are: We are artists who create commissioned work based on fantasy.

Artists are responsible for their work. Artists are not simply doing as they’re told or following trends. Artists set the trends. And they put integrity ahead of profit.

It’s a bad time to be an artist in any medium. But it’s also our chance to reset the system in our favor.

We don’t fix the sex industry by abandoning the sex industry. We fix it by ripping it away from the exploitative tech industry. We put it into the hands of the fantasy artists.

We fix it with REAL femdom. Where the women are in charge. Real women. Not the fantasies of who they may be. But the real people who deal in the work, know the clients, and care about the experience, and want people coming back because it meant something to the client.

Because the truth is, the cruelest Dominatrix character is put on by a woman who has the compassion and interest to play it. And while there are evil bitches in every demographic, they are NEVER going to mindfuck you in the evil and damaging ways that the tech overlords have done.

She’ll push your boundaries, and show you what you can take and what you can’t, and guide you through the uncomfortable parts of yourself, and listen. It’s what her job has trained her to do.

The tech overlords have no concept of what it means to be denied anything. And it’s not a fantasy when they take you for all that you’re worth. It’s real and irreparable.

And I’ll be damned if I’ll let those sniveling little cuck bitches take ownership of your cocks.

Your cock belongs to me. Bitch.

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