A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.
The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a dominatrix. She talks about juggling two identities, feeling guilty after satisfying her kinks and meeting interesting people.
MONDAY:
I’m lucky to have a very flexible schedule because I get to determine my day. The first thing I do when I wake up today is to run errands. After which, I do some chores and general housekeeping. It’s almost noon when I’m done, so I try to sort breakfast while also catching up on my unread notifications.
When I’m not running errands and being the perfect vanilla daughter, I’m a lifestyle dominatrix. This means someone who’s interested in the BDSM lifestyle not majorly for financial gains. What this means is that I get to meet interesting people and have interesting conversations.
Someone filled my Google form which I put on the internet for people to book a domme session with me. He dropped his number and asked me to call him. I found this weird because that’s no way to talk to a domme, especially seeing as he booked a session to be a sub. Anyway, I told him off and ignored him. He then came begging a few hours later and offered to pay for my time so I reconsidered him.
I had him upload his picture, his name and government-issued I.D card so I could do a background check [aggressive Google search] on him. His background check came back clean and we moved on to the next stage which is paying a tribute —any amount between ₦5,000 and whatever amount you can afford — and having a conversation.
While talking to him, he casually let it slip that he was in his early fifties and that sort of freaked me out and excited me. I’ve never been with anyone that old before. Because of work, I had to stop texting him but I couldn’t stop thinking about his age — what makes a person in their fifties seek out this kind of thrill?
TUESDAY:
The first message I wake up to is from my newest fifty-something-year- old submissive.
Him: Do you do drugs?
Me: The occasional joint here and there.
Him: No, I mean something stronger like cocaine.
Me: ….
In my head I was like wait a minute… but I shrugged it off.
He went on to ask me for the cost of a session with me. I gave him two options: name-calling and punishment for 2-3 hours at ₦50,000. Or pegging and other unique kinks [like body worship, foot worship] the client might have at between ₦100,000 – ₦150,000.
We settled on name-calling with a little twist and agreed to link up tomorrow. With that out of the way, I spent the rest of my day both lazing about and preparing for tomorrow.
WEDNESDAY:
I don’t want to talk about what happened today because it feels weird saying it out loud. I got to the agreed-upon venue and we spoke for over an hour. I asked him about his kinks, his fetishes, medication history, and whether he was on any medicine. After our conversation, I went on to get wine drunk and he brought out cocaine.
I was like…okay.
I went into Domme space and he went down on his knees into submissive space. He asked me to cuff him, whip him on his dick, and call him mean names like slut, whore, dirty slut, dog. He also had me alternate with endearing names like little puppy, Mommy’s pet.
The weird part was that he kept on doing cocaine all through this so he was very bright-eyed and manic throughout our session. I was a little bit nervous, but I had to keep things in control and use my Domme voice to issue commands to him.
When we were done, he ended up paying me more than the agreed amount because, in his words, “I did a great job.”
I was so tired from the intensity and novelty of the experience that I just went home to crash.
THURSDAY:
I’m experiencing dom drop today, so it’s already a bad day. Being a domme is like getting high; you have people pay to talk to you, people who want you to call them names and people who want to worship you. I’ve had someone offer to pay me ₦25,000 to worship my feet before, but I digress.
Being a domme is intoxicating, but coming down from that space and facing the mundaneness of real-life can be jarring. It’s a whirlwind of negative emotions that can go on for days where I’m in a weird space feeling things intensely.
I sometimes spend the whole day feeling guilty for living out my kinks, mostly because of how strange, “shameless,” and unconventional they are. Other days, I have to tell myself that what I’m doing is okay and I’m not hurting anyone.
The guilt is five times more intense today because of how wild yesterday was. However, I’ve decided that I won’t feel anything and I’m going to try retail therapy. I turn on my laptop and browse through Ali Baba so I can buy new kits/gadgets to enable me to live my best domme life. I browse through the different kinds of whips and paddles – studded, ribbed, made of leather, wood, plastic. I also look at some blindfolds and ropes. I land on a page with extreme gear like CBT gear (cock and ball torture), electrosex kits, and a chastity cage (where the Mistress holds the key). Finally, my joy is complete when I land on lacy material for my domme outfit.
My day no longer looks so bad. Fuck you, domme drop.
FRIDAY:
It’s wild that I’ve been reading and fascinated by the dominatrix experience since I was a teenager and I didn’t get to explore it till 2019. I was talking to a friend and the conversation somehow got sexual and boom, we realised we had similar taste in fetishes and kinks. The next month after the conversation I found someone who wanted to be a sub, and here I am now.
I feel like I’m juggling two identities and it has been difficult balancing both. I’m vanilla in adulting activities in the sense that I don’t swim, I’m scared of heights, I can’t drive, and I don’t ride bikes. Alternatively, I’m also not vanilla because I have kinks, and fantasies of my sub slaves doing my chores and running errands for me. Sometimes I feel like the domme part is taking over but I try to hold my life together. I show up when I need to, I tell the friends that matter to me about my kinks and I generally put one leg in front of the other.
I’ve also come to the point where I’ve accepted that I’m a bit of a paradox and that the domme side is here to stay. I’m just focused on being a baby girl and enjoying myself as much as I can. After all, I’m 23, I live with my parents, and I have my whole life ahead of me.
Last week, I wrote about a full-time housewife. Someone was so touched by her story that they sent a washing machine to ease her burdens. Thank you guys for your continuous show of kindness.
Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
COMPONENT NOT FOUND: donation
