Being a Sex Worker Doesn't Make Me a Bad Mother -- It Actually Made Me a Better One



Sometimes it’s hard not to laugh when I stand over a “toilet” slave and let it loose all over them. They don’t know my 3-year-old did the same on my leg about two hours ago. In retrospect, toilet training my toddler has transferable skills I use at the dungeon I work at as a dominatrix three days a week.  

  • And yes, that means I am an actively employed sex worker, who is married with two beautiful children.

    I am lucky enough to have the support of my partner in my endeavors with ProDomming. Since I have become less quiet about my “newest” line of work, we have had "friends" ask all kinds of intrusive questions about why I do what I do. But the answer is pretty simple: I want to. 

    Yes, as a  mother I love my kids more than anything and will do anything for them. But I'm still my own person. And too often we are told that our lives are no longer ours when we have kids, that it's inappropriate to act or even like a certain thing. We deserve devices in which we reclaim our powers as a woman, not just as a mother. And for me, being a dominatrix does that. 

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  • People always seem interested on how a dominatrix becomes a dominatrix.


    I grew up in a Christian household, so we had a good mix of treating everyone equally and with love, mixed in with that hypocrisy organized religions are good for.  My mother was a bit more modern than my father, but they both preached doing what you must to survive. My mother was abandoned in the hospital after she was born, and my father was one of six children who migrated here from the Dominican Republic. So I come from that “never give up and never give in stock.” But when I was 18 years old,  my father died, and my world flipped upside down. 

    During those turbulent times, with my family slipping further into grief, I eventually moved away from home. I became close to my neighbor who happened to be a ProDomme, although I didn’t find that out till after Dad died. Leslie* didn’t have children, but sort of took me under her wing. She put me in a corset and painted my lips with bright red lipstick. They were the kinds of clothing I grew up hearing only putas and loose women wore. And it sparked something in me. 

  • During that time away from home, I ended up in Queens, New York, living with a co-worker, who was an ex-stripper and escort.

    On valuable life lesson she taught me is if you're good at something, never do it for free. I figured I’d always been good at doin’ it -- why not make money there? So I started escorting. I was 22, trying to survive, riddled with grief, dealing with mental illnesses I didn't think I had, and going through this manic time of my life where I could have ended up on a missing persons poster. 

    This was years before the baby, years before I settled down with my partner, and I’ve only just let go of the baggage that came with that. I quickly considered going back to that line of sex work because it was fast-ish cash and I was out of work, but all sex work is not created equal, and I needed empowerment after the baby. I needed to reclaim my power and sense of superiority over the male population, and not with just my body this time. With my intellect, my physical strength, my commanding presence, so I wanted to really try out ProDomming. I’ve always wanted to say “I’m a dominatrix.” I can now ... and a I'm damn good one.

  • I took off for a year to breastfeed and bond with my son, who was later identified as being on the autism spectrum.

    I slowly got back to sex work via online -- something the SESTA legislation has made nearly impossible. Now that my son is in Early Intervention and in a center-based program, he is getting the help he needs and I get a few hours of the day to do the normal mom thing. I meal prep, feed the cat, wash the dishes -- no different than any mom who works in an office from 9-5. I’m at the den three days a week, and one of those is the night shift (5:30 p.m.-1:30 a.m.). I still have to do my mom stuff during the day, which now includes getting a stubborn 3-year-old out the door and on the bus. While I’m coming in, my husband’s going out for his 6 a.m. "vanilla" job. I try to catch some sleep and pray my kid stays asleep till at least 8, so mommy isn’t too cranky. My prayers aren’t always answered, but that's motherhood. 

  • The point being, of course, that my job doesn't make me any different from any other mom. 

    sex worker and mom

    I’m lucky enough to have a supportive husband in my particular endeavors, whom I can speak to about this. We both have similar tastes, but also similar parenting styles. We both plan to be as honest and open we can with our children, while keeping them as safe as we can. If this is something that is truly meant for me, I’ll have to explain to them the backlash that can occur if say, any of their friends parents see my site (or even a session with me). I’ll have to prep them to deal with anyone calling me a "slut or "whore" (or worse a "bad mother") because of the work I do proudly. 

    I filter the exposure of my world for them, but never completely shelter them from it. That includes art, my props, and the like. My baby loves swinging my single tail whip around, and he’s actually good at it! They of course will be educated as well I can educate them on BDSM, mommy being a Domme, and how sex work is real work at the end of the day. I teach them that mommy works on a strict set of morals, which she adheres to even when dressing up someone’s grandpa as a French maid. That she will never let anyone get close enough to hurt them. And that if they have a question or comment, to never hesitate in speaking about it.

  • I would go as far as to say being a Domme has made me a better parent.

    After having my son, my sense of self was gone. Even though I carried and birthed a 9.5-pound baby boy, when doctors said it would be difficult for me to, I did it. And even though I grew up thinking all I had were useless, weird boobs and I successfully breastfed my son -- I couldn’t really appreciate my body.  My postpartum depression was a part my motherhood journey and it forced me to sit and listen to all those wrong voices in my head telling me I can’t do this. You are only measured by how much you sacrifice yourself for your kid, and how you “bounce back.” 

    Being a Domme has allowed me to regain confidence in my sexuality, in my earning potential, in my livelihood after the baby.  My bounce back? This is it. Making men drop to their knees in my presence, having them worship at my altar, and of course, hand over their money willingly for my craft. In this, I am a better functioning person, therefore a better mother to my children. Being a sex worker doesn’t make me less of a person or mother.