In the early stages of my career, i was quite fortunate for two specific reasons:
Firstly, due to my inexperience, i felt the need to alter, stretch or even fabricate what knowledge i had in order to get me in the door.
Secondly, i had the luck of encountering potential employers who couldn't tell i did this or didn't care.
Either way, my early jobs, as a result of my embellishments, were often more fantastic than i probably deserved. I travelled all over, spending long spans of time going from one locale to the next. I remember one notable 20 day period had me dashing through no less than 15 different cities. It was exhausting, but for a young man my age, equally exhilirating. Over time, i learned how to find the basic comforts and needs in any town that i'd grown accustomed to having back at home. Except one thing: companionship.
Unfortunately, the kind of female company i sought wasn't outfitted by calling a local escort service. For several reasons, you just can't hire a submissive girl. This unique problem sent me on the difficult course of finding a submissive in as many of my ports of call as possible. In retrospect, as i type this now, i can see how arrogant and mostly unpragmatic this pursuit was.
In all, i had a girl i could call on in Chicago, Tampa, Philly, San Antone, Toronto, New York and Nawlins. When i knew far enough in advance that i would be visiting, i'd call up my host and arrange some time with her. Usual protocol would be for her to begin wearing a buttplug that i had given her early on in our exchange, at least a day before i arrived. I wanted to make my unique impression on her. There is something about meeting with a girl who's been plugging her ass for you for a period of hours that just builds this insane level of anticipation. She knew i had put so much thought and energy into her stationed this way, and i knew she felt the constant pressure. Most visits were rather calm, and would not have filled the shelves of the erotica section of your local bookstore, especially since i usually just wanted her to serve as company. When you are in a city all by yourself, peace comes in a familiar face. Very often, i would have her sitting near me as i drank a cocktail to unwind, her beauty and grace serving as a shield against the day's stress.
My favorite girl was my Toronto hostess. We connected on so many levels, but she also served as the most mysterious. She would ask me to pick her up in the most random of spots. A busstop out on Dundas. In front of a vegetable vendor in St. Lawrence. I didn't ask. Well, until it got in the way of being served. After she stood me up once, i insisted on knowing why. What she told me i still haven't fully grasped.
I know i risk exposing myself to a kind of unwelcome attention by merely having the title i've chosen for this post. Should i speak of this subject as if it were false and it proves not to be, i've put myself in an unfortunate position.
She told me that she was a member of a society known as "The Circle". This was a collection of incredibly wealthy men who have their various representatives approach incredibly gorgeous young women proposing them the opportunity to live very comfortably in exchange for their liberty. These young, consenting women are then taken to a remote location, drilled in the rudiments of sexual service, and then traded amongst the spokes of "The Circle".
I know, preposterous. But, why did i want to believe it? I remember asking her only one question about it. Why was i able to enjoy her company if she was essentially a slave to this group? She said it was part of her ongoing training. That satisfied me. I didn't want to know more because i didn't believe her, and her company was a luxurious oasis in a desert of hostile faces that i was unwilling to do without. I also felt myself wanting to believe her. I wanted to believe that an organization such as this existed. It was incredibly arousing to think about. The powerful feasting on hand-selected and made toys.
Years later, after i'd relinquished my claim on these girls, i found myself coming back to the idea of "The Circle". I'd grown tired of my local SM scene. It was overrun by social rejects and folks who believed that kinky=freaky. I realized that the biggest problem behind these clubs and parties i would occasionally frequent was that there was no screening process. Anyone who wanted to explore could come and clog up the floorspace. I understood that not everyone raced along inside their deviant behavior at the speed i did, but i grew tired of having to share the same racing track with the beginners and finding few attractive submissives in the largely male-dominated chapters. I longed for some covert fellowship, where an intense, highly scrutinizing review took place for potential newcomers. I sent out feelers to various contacts within the lifestyle, asking them to *wink-wink* level with me. I got no nibbles. And then it hit me, "they" would not want you to look for them. They'll find you when they want to.
I've always said patience is one of my best characteristics.