Farewell To My Local Bootslave

I recently learned that a beloved local client of mine is now deceased. Bill was one of the rare clients who I saw regularly for a period of twenty years.

I feel compelled to write a Proper Kink Obituary for folks like him, since no one else will. It’s also cathartic for me to be able to chronicle his background and memories. It doesn’t matter if no one else reads this. It’s the point of committing his legacy to some sort of digital memory.

Bill (yes that was his real name because it doesn’t matter now), started to see me right around the time that I opened my studio in 2002. He was into heavy corporal discipline and boot worship, which was and is a dream session for me. We quickly changed our times together to something more interesting: Bill was a larger man and he thought it would be a good idea to have me help in his weight loss journey. He embarked on that, with a good modicum of success. Then he stopped seeing me for a period of time.

When he reemerged, the news was very sad. His wife had committed suicide after learning that her cancer had returned for the third time. Her cause of death wasn’t technically listed as suicide, but after Bill shared with me some details, it became apparent that she overdosed on her pain medication. He understood why she made that choice, but he still missed her terribly.

Our sessions transitioned from meeting at the studio, to having dinner in San Francisco and then retiring to his hotel room for a few hours. I rarely do outcalls, but we had an established relationship. Bill was also experiencing mobility issues at this point in his life. Frankly it was easier for us to be able to go somewhere with less stairs and more elevators.

I enjoyed the conversations we used to have over a nice meal. He had difficulties with his daughter, but he loved his grandchildren immensely. When a great grandchild came along, he was elated. He loved hearing about my kinky life and whatever I had going on at the time.

Starting around 2017, I began to notice him forgetting details we had shared repeatedly over the years. When I would chastise him for not remembering these important facts, he would chalk it up to only looking at me and not really listening. I thought that was fair enough. Others have told me how they sometimes stop hearing my words and just get lost in what they are thinking about me at the time. I began to worry when his personal hygiene seemed to start slacking. His clothing was also no longer clean all the time. I chalked this up to him being a lonely, older man who lived alone.

Then during one of the last times we met up in 2019, he forgot where the hotel was located. This was sort of a big deal since he grew up in San Francisco. He knew the city by heart. He eventually arrived, but the phone call to get him back on track was painful. I feared for the worst at that point. Then COVID happened, and everyone went radio silent.

Bill did not use email after 2010. The only way I could reach him was via his mobile number. This number would change from time to time. He called me in 2021 and I was happy to hear that he was alive. We promised to get together when things were better.

Then in September of 2022, he reached out. I was so happy to hear from him! He discussed how he really wanted to see me. I agreed and we said that we would do so after I returned from Detroit. He mentioned that he had moved. When I asked him what city he was in now, there was a pause. “I don’t know.” I pressed him a bit further, and he simply couldn’t ascertain exactly where he was. It was then that I knew my worst fears had come true.

Unfortunately, his number had changed when I tried to contact him again. Earlier this year I set out trying to find out if something bad had happened. I eventually tracked him down to a memory care facility in the South Bay. I wrote him a letter and mailed it to the location. It was returned at the end of June, unopened. DECEASED was written across the front of the envelope.

I’ll miss Bill’s exuberance the most. He hated the part of him that was kinky, but he made sure to indulge it when possible. We would agree that he could smart off during our sessions, but that he would pay for talking back. He used to love to crawl across the floor on his belly, begging to PLEASE kiss my boots! I, of course, would deny him repeatedly. The maddened look on his face was priceless. He had a terrible comb over and it would become impossibly disarrayed every time he would get flustered. He used to cry out, “WHEN IS THIS URGE GOING TO END?” and I would tell him, “NEVER.” That was at 74.

Bill was 80 years old when he died. He loved Broadway plays, and New York the most. Boots were his jam. He was kind to a fault. He didn’t seem to have the level of dishonesty that embodies many of the clients I have interacted with over the past ten years. He never disappointed me. I’d like to believe that he and mucous are chuckling away somewhere in the afterlife, regaling the tales of their kinky time with The Vinyl Queen.

9/11 Then and Now

October, 2001

Being from the West Coast, I don’t have the same type of stories as those who lived and worked near to Ground Zero on 9/11. I do have “a 9/11” story, and it’s time to commit it to text. I’ve told it many times and I THOUGHT I had blogged about it, but I guess I was incorrect…

I made my first trip to New York City to work as a Pro Domme back in 2000. Times were certainly different back then! It wasn’t like I could just find a Mistress on social media who advertised a rental space, and set things up for a visit. Nope. There was this thing called vetting. Yes, I’m going to be making a lot of “back in my day” references in this post. Get used to it. I had to research NYC Dominas in DDI (yes, there used to be these things called magazines where we had to place print ads–IMAGINE THAT!). There was a budding website that featured a Domme Directory (maxfisch), but it was still very new. I ended up contacting Mistress Avalon and supplicating myself to her. We used to have to show deference to our Domme Elders. I had to prove to her that I was a valid Domina and that I had a skill set. She didn’t really care about my silly website. She wanted verification that I was a card-carrying member of the DDI Advertisers Club. What I mean by this it was an indication that I understood how to place a print ad in the publication. I think she might have even asked if I had been in more than one edition (they were published quarterly). It was a measure of validation. I totally understand her point of view now. At the time it was frustrating.

My first trip was quite successful and I decided that even though L’Oeil Cache was magnificently equipped, I didn’t want to bow to Mistress Avalon anymore. I sought out a different rental experience.

I ended up negotiating with Mistress Nadine to use her space for my October 2001 visit. She was very down to earth and didn’t treat me like an underling. I booked my airfare and hotel and thought that everything was set. Then it wasn’t.

The morning of 9/11 I found out about the first tower being hit via the radio. The alarm had gone off and that’s how I heard the news. Of course I ran to the television and turned it on to see exactly what was going on. The second tower collapsing is what I saw. If you weren’t alive then, it was something unforgettable to see the massive loss of life on your tv screen. There was nothing you could do but watch in horror.

Like I mentioned at the beginning, I lived in California in the SF Bay Area. I didn’t have any connections to people who lived or worked in Manhattan. I did what everyone else in my area did for the next few days: I listened to the news, read newspapers and generally felt numb about the whole situation.

As time passed, I started to think about my trip that was booked for the latter portion of October. Should I cancel it? COULD I still go? Eventually I made the decision that I would still travel and that this would be important “some day.” Boy was I correct!

Mistress Nadine was very cool about the entire situation. Her space was in Soho and still accessible. We agreed that we should do “something” while I was there to try to aid in the general situation of the 9/11 aftermath. I didn’t know what this was until I arrived though.

She told me that we’d donate a portion of the proceeds of our sessions during my stay to the local firehouse that was in her neighborhood. She knew people there and they were aware of what she did as a Domina. We would present them with a check and commemorate the occasion with a photo-op.

Baby VQ and Mistress Nadine at the firehouse

Not gonna lie, my entire trip was surreal: From my airport experience, to 5th Avenue being entirely empty at night. It was bizarre to visit such a teeming metropolis and see very few people out and about. I stayed at the Hilton in Mid-town. A large number of First Responders were staying there as well.

My sessions went well. I had very few cancellations. Clients wanted a distraction and I did as well! I utilized the proximity to Ground Zero to walk to Lower Manhattan to attempt to see what I could see. So happy I had my camera with me. I will never forget “the smell.” It made the acrid wildfire smoke I have grown used to almost seem pleasant.

Now I find myself returning to New York City, twenty years later. We are in another disaster of sorts, and divided unlike I ever thought we could be. Fortunately, kink unites me and my clients with an unwavering desire to experience our form of reality. The need to submit to the will of a power Domina will never die. I am thankful for this constant in my life.

It will be good to return to New York City after almost a two year absence. I am grateful for colleagues such as Mistress Ariana Chevalier and Mistress Chloe. Now “we” are the ones who are the Domme Elders. Thank you two for providing me a home away from home for so many years now!

2020: The Year That Wasn’t

We’ve finally come to the end of one of the worst years in most of our living memory. I’m sure that the youngsters born after 9/11 were completely blind-sided more than the rest of us. My title says that the year “wasn’t” because I did not conduct my business for most of it.

The year started off normal enough. January is usually a month where I don’t travel or do many sessions. It’s slow because everyone has spent their pennies on Christmas. I plan accordingly. I am usually happy for the break.

By March, I was in Detroit. I had been following the budding pandemic in the news, and travel wasn’t considered to be “that bad” yet. I remember watching the daily briefings from my hotel suite. It quickly became apparent that this would be the last trip of the year. Sissy josephine and I shared my last professional session of 2020 during my visit. I shudder at how we dined in a restaurant and went to a bar!!! When I returned home saw how the virus was raging in Detroit, I felt like we had dodged a bullet.

When the initial Shelter In Place orders happened (literally on the day of my return), I didn’t really have a game plan. Who did? As the weeks progressed, I figured I’d try my hand at working remotely–along with the rest of the world. I’d do phone sessions, and webcam sessions, and generate solo content. It would be great! As the younger set likes to say, “Cool story bro!”

You would THINK that putting on makeup and plopping down in front of the camera to do photos and video would be super easy. In theory, yes it is. At issue is that my business model was never based on not being in physical contact with my clients. Niteflirt and other remote aspects of my work have always been an adjunct and not the primary focus. Then I figured out why I was developing such disdain for these types of venture: the lack of curation for potential clients/and quality thereof.

I’m not going to dissect each remote option here, but let me sum things up by stating that I felt like the clients in these venues were the ones calling the shots. I also wasn’t crazy about the types of contact I was receiving. Look, POV clips are not my forte. Asking me to do a webcam session where I tell you how to jerk off is frankly silly to me. You’ve had your penis for much longer than I’ve known you. You are perfectly capable of cranking one out. You don’t need my help, nor do I feel like helping. That’s just me. More power to the women who are adept at this type of thing. I also have a terrible habit of reverting to humor during serious situations. If you’ve had a session with me, you are aware of this. It works when someone is in bondage and experiencing painful situations for me to crack a joke. It’s really not so much during a solo-generated video. I guess you’d say I have a difficult time keeping a straight face. Who’d ever thought a Pro Domme would say that?

This is not to say that wonderful supplicants like sissy josephine or slave joe didn’t have some outstanding webcam time with me. They didn’t ask for anything and let me direct their actions 100%. That’s the way I like it. After over 20 years, I can be picky like this.

The other benefit of having been a Pro Domme since 1997 is that I have acquired a series of benefactors who came through in an unexpected manner! I didn’t ask for their support, but boy did they ever come through. So if you reading this, and you are in that small club, you have my heartfelt thanks. And just like you get benefits from subscribing to public television, there will be perks when I resume sessions for these generous gentlemen. No, not THOSE types of perks. Get your mind out of the gutter. As if!

This pandemic has also shown me the true colors of people who I thought were “better” than this. People I considered friends have shown the world that they are basically selfish and don’t care about their fellow humans. Time to pair the friends list down even further. I’m not sad, just disappointed.

I hope that 2021 is prosperous and less anxious for all. We still need to get through this dark winter, but it will pass. I am hoping to get the vaccine by my birthday in March. We’ll see if that is truly wishful thinking or a reality. In closing, if you are anti-vax (of any type), please don’t ever contact me. I thought you people were dumb before the pandemic. I now KNOW you are just plain old stupid.

Ever Snarky…

VQ