I Was a Nerd, Then I Became a Dominatrix
Looking back on my first BDSM experience at a dungeon party decades later.
I’d been sitting in my old Honda Civic for a while, procrastinating about getting out. I eyed the house across the road from me, a modest, single-family home: my destination. The street lamps overhead flickered, casting an uneasy glow on this unassuming Hollywood neighborhood, and my nervousness just got worse.
Was I ever going to get out of here and go inside? The house looked so normal from here. It could have easily been mistaken for any other residence on the block. There was nothing special about it, no overt sign conveying its secret within.
A dungeon? In a house like that? Who would have guessed? Even in a place as eccentric as Hollywood, the concept of a dungeon in such a residence wasn’t exactly expected. I certainly didn’t expect it. In fact, that a dungeon could exist in such a house was mind-boggling.
When I first learned that dominatrixes met with their clients in dungeons, I had envisioned something totally different. Basements with cold, stone walls and concrete floors came to mind, fit with cages and torture racks a la The Inquisition. But after following the directions here tonight, I found myself parked in front of a regular home in a quiet Hollywood…
