The questions they want to ask, but usually don’t until after a few drinks is: “Do you have sex with your clients?” If I’m feeling randy, I’ll reply, “Only with my fist”—and make it clear by hitting my fist into my palm like a tough guy that I don’t mean hand-jobs.

No. I don’t have conventional sex with my clients. In fact, approximately 80 percent of my clients don’t have sexual orgasms during our sessions. In BDSM, there is such a thing called the masochist-climax, when the body goes through waves of euphoria induced by the overwhelming sensations—be it pain, pleasure, or a combination thereof. But I do consider professional domination to be part of the sex industry. I put things—metal things, silicone things, rubber things—into people’s places. They don’t put things into my places. They aren’t allowed to even touch me.

I am proud of being a professional dominatrix, but I will admit to being on defensive autopilot when I get unsolicited questions from people who are not familiar with BDSM. I think it’s important to break down stereotypes of media’s flat version of the latex dominatrix and I do enjoy educating; but not all the time, not at every dinner party, nor in a bar full of metrosexuals who look fashionably more fetishistic than I do. So from behind the safe shield of my laptop, I’ve opened my last article for questions and I’m ready to peel back every veil requested. So let’s dance.

She also responds to the following questions:

How have you seen yourself grow or evolve as a professional in the time since you’ve been one?

How has it affected your personal life?

Do you find that the pro work increases or decreases your enjoyment of BDSM in your personal life? Does play in your personal life ever feel like work?

Have you found that attitudes to your profession or the lifestyle have changed over the past few years?

When someone you’ve just met asks what you do for a living, how do you respond?

What’s the best and worst part of being a pro?

Click here to read her answers.