People I Could Hang Out With
{Originally published on Natty’s Spanking Blog.}
My senior year of college I was invited to be part of a national student delegation to the country of Kuwait. A week or so before I received that invitation, I found out I had been accepted to graduate school at Georgetown University with a full tuition scholarship. As our delegation was meeting in Washington DC for a week of briefings before heading to Kuwait, I went a few days earlier to visit the place I assumed I would be spending the next several years of my life.
The waiting room for my graduate program was lined with cherrywood paneling and upholstered in arabesque print. I remember worrying that my wet, squishy tennis shoes would somehow dirty the place after walking in from the April rain. I stayed the night with a recent alum from my hole-in-the-wall state university, but the next day headed to a posh DC hotel where we student delegates were to stay during the Washington leg of our journey.
It was the first time I’d ever hailed a cab. And I was surprised when a guy in a uniform picked up my suitcase as I checked in. I’d never been to a hotel with a bell hop before. The nicest place I’d ever stayed before that was at a Red Lion with a bunch of girls from my church youth group when we attended a winter youth festival. The bell hop led me to the room, opened the door, set my luggage on a rack, opened the curtains, and then stood at the door awkwardly for a few seconds. Was I supposed to tip him? Or was that just something they did on television but not in real life? The bell hop had mercy on me and left quickly. I felt terribly out of place in this new, fancy world I’d found myself in. And I tell you the truth, dear reader, I broke out into tears as I sat on the immaculate bed.
That is how I feel when I read most erotica.





















Since I was of legal age I’ve been a “part-time purveyor of erotic odd-jobbery, all sorts,” but for the past year and a half I have been what is most easily called a dominatrix.



