Who's the Dom(me) now?

I’m the Dom almost all the time. Except when I choose not to be. It’s almost always been like this, but is now especially pronounced since I have returned to my former (real) profession and am bossing people around almost every waking moment. Waitresses stop talking, freeze up and say through shaky smiles, “hi Chef, how are you today?” when I pass by. Wherever I go in the establishment, if there are other people there, they clear a path and ask what they can do to please me. My word is final, and everyone accepts that.

You would think all of this would make my dick hard, but it doesn’t. I do take satisfaction that everyone respects me and never sneers, grumbles or back-talks. That’s nice. And some of them actually fear me, which I find stupidly amusing. (My shrink, appalled that I would find projecting fear amusing, says I’m channeling my late father and continuing his tradition of toxicity. A little unfair, me thinks.) But if these people actually knew what made my dick hard, they’d faint.