My Pansexual Story 11
Because of her dominatrix and adult performer background, Penny Barber has been writing and performing professionally since 2003. It goes without saying that she is a pansexual atheist who loves to read. She is also the mother of two extraordinary children.
I had been working in the adult business for five years, and as a professional switch for three of those years, when I discovered that I had been, shall we say, knocked out. Though I am pro-choice, I was single and uninsured when I became pregnant. Despite my pro-choice beliefs, I was determined to become a mother.
However, I have a very strong maternal side and like working with children. This has always surprised my employees, whether they are photographers, customers, or other adult actors or dominatrixes.
During my senior year of high school, I even worked as an au pair and at a nursery school. What does that make it? You never know when the bashful adolescent you hired to babysit your two-year-old would be free to spend some quality time with you!
Nothing about my want to reproduce and my feminism, my desire for sexually explicit romps and my wish to be the mother of a kid seemed out of character to me at the time. The decision was made by my then-boyfriend, who is now my ex-husband; but, when I expressed my desire to become a mother, I was received with skepticism and incredulity. As a mother of two children, why on earth would I have chosen to work with children? I had no idea that I was going to scar my children for the rest of their lives! That there was nothing else I could do except have sex for the rest of my life?
That it was either sex or parenthood, and not both at the same time.
Out of necessity, I had to determine what to do with my professional life. My strict Catholic mother had already had enough shocks, and I wanted to at the very least provide her with a legal grandchild, which I now understand is a horrible motive for a marriage.
Many of us, in fact, did so. The day before I found out that I was pregnant, another prominent, local Mistress informed me that she was having a child, and two more pregnancy announcements came quickly afterward. I remember it like it was yesterday!
Having other ladies to speak to who were going through the same confused, judgmental ordeal as I was was a life-changing experience. Dommy mothers I know had their children many years before they started working as adults in their fields of expertise.
In the dungeon, they never had to waddle about in six-inch stilettos, frantically running to the bathroom every five minutes because the bladders of the inmates were being pushed by a pregnancy. To bring up another point, pregnancy is ideal for golden shower scenes.
Out of all of the choices that needed to be taken, one thing was always crystal obvious to me: I was going to keep working no matter what. However, it was preferable to resigning than to continue rotating with my clientele.
In the first place, I was concerned that I would be unable to get a slot at the beautiful dungeon where I was scheduled to session, la Maison de la Maîtresse. It’s one of the most gorgeous locations I’ve ever seen, and it’s ideally suited for the household discipline and sissification scenarios that I find so appealing. The idea of performing in someone’s converted garage, or, worse yet, in a cheap hotel room did not appeal to me. I was determined not to return to that state of affairs.
First and foremost, I wanted to start accumulating savings for my upcoming vacation. The fact that you are a self-employed sex worker has many advantages, but one of those advantages is that you do not get any paid maternity leave.
My Pansexual story 11
Finally, my partner was not the kinkiest guy on the planet. Even if he had been, I thrived on variety and was uninterested in the emotional connection that would come with finding a particular playmate to keep me occupied. Oddly enough, it appeared as though it would be easier for me to wait for men who would pay for the privilege of playing with a pregnant woman than it would be for me to find men who would do it for free, though I knew it would still be a difficult task.
In order to continue working, I needed to create a fetish costume that would accommodate my rapidly expanding stomach. The other pregnant pro dommes and I frantically searched for lingerie that still looked dominant, trading shopping links and passing down corselets, and I stuffed myself into my leather pants for as long as I could, until they ripped down the back. Eventually, I had to settle for a black jersey maternity dress, which I wore over and over again. I coupled it with the weirdest sneakers my subs could locate in an attempt to keep it fresh for each session.
Expensive latex and leather were out of the question, and vinyl split in an unappealing manner at the slightest strain.
Another challenge was informing customers about my sensitive condition. I lost all of my most important customers in a single day.
I was no longer able to be beaten, electrocuted, pierced, or bound in awkward postures. Submissives who had been with me for years expressed concern that our activities might have an adverse effect on my unborn child, at least until I informed them that I was absolutely not going to be celibate for the next nine months, and that they should take advantage of our time together while they could.
Others preferred to spend hours soothing my swollen ankles rather than allowing me to walk about in my beloved stilettos, but the majority were just in awe of the fecund goddess in front of them.
My breasts, which had already been surgically enhanced, inflated like balloons. My twenty-four-inch waist expanded luscious and unconstrained, reaching a maximum of almost fifty inches. My ass grew in size and my hips grew in width, transforming me into a walking Venus of Willendorf.
I now had the maternal figure that matched my maternal personality, and I started to attract more and more customers who wanted to be mothered as well as punished. Pregnancy transformed me from a slender fetish model with a barely legal schoolgirl appearance into a voluptuous sex queen.
I also began to perform a lot of cuckold scenarios, which was a whole new territory for me to explore. When my first client, a long-time playmate whom I still see on a regular basis, asked me to inform him that the baby I was carrying wasn’t his, I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. The infant was not his. He’d probably never even seen me completely naked before, at least not in person.
Nonetheless, he relished having it thrust in his face that I was with someone else, and I thought the concept so humorous that I simply went through with it. For individuals who like cuckolding scenarios, pregnancy may serve as a powerful reminder of the consequences of their actions. The notion that a man would be so hopelessly committed to me, even when I’m informing him that I’m expecting my lover’s kid and that he’ll just have to live with it, thank you very much, really churns my butter, even if I wouldn’t really want to establish a family in this manner.
I continued to work until two weeks before my due date, and after that, I continued to work from home, which saved me from going stir crazy as the baby continued to grow until two weeks beyond my due date, only making his big entry into the world when my doctor started to arrange for induced labor.
My new husband attempted to persuade me to remain at home sooner, but I was OK and had grown up hearing tales about my mother’s pregnancy-defying tenacity. She worked till the day she gave birth to me and returned to the workplace a week later. I had already planned to take a month off for post-delivery recovery, which would later be extended to six weeks before returning to work on a part-time basis.
I didn’t want to be a slacker, and a lot of my childless customers were as as in need of care as they had been before. Being a first-time mother, I wasn’t sure how to convey to them that I needed time to attend lactation courses, organize my belongings, or just sleep in preparation for many months of restless nights and days with an insomniac infant.
During the whole time that I worked around my puffed up belly, adapting my whipping posture to my new center of gravity, and utilizing my newly superhumanly strong nails as weapons, I only had one awkward, but mercifully not dangerous, encounter with an overly enthusiastic Dutchman.
I don’t remember his precise appearance, but he was fair and slim, and he seemed to be just approaching middle age. When he showed up for the adult baby session, he came prepared with a present in mind for the baby, in the shape of a flattened lamb blanket. I’m talking about the ones that look a little like roadkill, with the only uncrushed part remaining to be the stillattached head. You know the ones I’m referring about.
Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t stop caressing my stomach, it was a rather standard session. My fundus was in danger, so I warned him again and over again to take his hands off it. I eventually had to restrain him.
Following the session, he began to speak about the many sexual rituals that are prevalent in other cultures that include minors, including his own. Soon after that, he began to discuss how he believed it should be regarded normal for an adult to use his penis to soothe the scream of a little child. Getting him out of there as quickly as I could wasn’t possible.
On the following day, he wrote me an email pouring with praises and a promise to purchase me presents if we could just keep in touch via email. “I had a strong sense of belonging.” If you have completed all of your goals in life, you will have the most fearlessness. “I’m glad I came upon you,” says the author.
As soon as he wrote again, I simply informed him that I was not interested and that I would not respond. I was relieved when he eventually left me and my child alone. I considered reporting him to the authorities, but I was concerned about attracting the attention of the authorities and what that would imply for my kid, and, to be fair, he was not breaking any laws by speaking in such a manner as he did.
In contrast, the services that I offered may be considered unlawful.
The majority of my customers were nice, save from one incredibly unpleasant and disturbing encounter. It was a pleasant surprise, and it restored my confidence in mankind, something I really needed following the incident with the Dutchman.
The connections I’d established remained mainly intact, and new customers were as complimentary of my abilities whether or not they knew I was expecting a child. Some went above and beyond, making contributions to my children’s college funds, shopping for and purchasing a fantastic diaper bag, remembering my children’s birthdays with gifts, and one even went so far as to purchase each of my children a beautiful, hand-painted, porcelain box from Tiffany & Co., which I cherish.
Without a doubt, I had to part ways with my most valued customer, S. S was the closest I’d ever come to courting a customer in my professional life. He reminded me a lot of myself: he was older, he had a thick beard, and he was wearing an earring. Ses circumcised, straight member measured just under 9 inches, and he charged at me with the strength of an elephant.
Every few months, he would go from the east coast to San Francisco for lengthy, complex discussions and lavish meals. In addition to the custom leather collar with my name etched on it, he gave me other presents. It was him who escorted me to the piercing salon and paid the bill for both the treatment and the white gold barbell.
One of the most intense and sensual sensations of my life occurred when I looked up into his eyes as he held me down on the table, his hands squeezing my shoulders into the padded leather, and as the gorgeous, young piercer plunged his needle through my skin.
When I found out that I was expecting my first kid, I informed him since he was planned a trip out to meet me. He was delighted. He’d only recently completed one, but he liked to get started on the next one right away.
Considering his almost constant stream of gifts, I didn’t mind his desire for extra attention, though I did have trouble keeping up with the lengthy fantasy scenarios that he would write and email to me on occasion.
I informed him that I would not be able to submit to him for about a year due to a personal conflict with my husband. Aside from that, S had a thing for young ladies under the age of twenty-four who were slim in build. Though I was just twenty-three, I was well aware that I was approaching the end of my beauty in his eyes, and that being pregnant would most likely only serve to further age me in his views.
In spite of our smooth back-and-forth, common interests, and sexual chemistry, his attitude that women had an expiry date on their butts prevented my relationship with S from progressing beyond the professional level.
S was quite bashful, despite the fact that he was so tall and intimidating. Although I urged him to seek out support in his local community, he decided to go across the country to visit me and my colleague, Mistress Ren. I believe I was the first person with whom he had ever expressed his kinky dreams, and I was right. That changed as a result of my pregnancy, and he eventually joined his local kink scene and began dating kinky people.
When I was in need, he attempted to convert his desertion of me into a praise. The thought of going nine months without this is too much for me. Okay, I got it. The fact that he was more committed to me than our encounters truly merited reminded me that, although clients may claim that they want to be something more when reality calls, only a small percentage of those who say they want to be something more would really answer the call.
After he left, S and I only spoke on the phone a few times. A few presents for my first kid arrived in the mail, and I discovered that he had found a young girlfriend who looked uncannily like me, right down to the spectacles and strong jawline.
As soon as I worked out how to strike a balance between my first kid and my professional obligations, the second child flowed into his or her position in my life with ease and grace. Despite being a sex queen, I was able to be the mother I had always wanted to be while still providing for my family.
Even though I have suffered losses along the road and expect to suffer more in the future, I am feeling every sort of love that is possible, and this is making my life really spectacular.