A Dominatrix's Story

PREFACE

 

My life as a dominatrix has been exciting, rewarding and funny; I have now decided to share my experiences, with you.

I was, and am discreet; I will not be using my client's actual names to protect them, nor indeed my own.

I also wish to make it quite clear I am not, and never was, a prostitute.

Domination to a lot of clients is a release, to live a dream, a fantasy, and although sexual, it is not, sexual intercourse. I sell my time, and my skill, not my body.

Bondage is one element where the person, who can be a high flying executive, relinquishes their control for a short period of time to another person. It can also offer security, being bound, held firmly in the loving embrace of ropes, can be therapeutic.

The last paragraph was not to justify my profession, but to enlighten as to some of the reasons people have for visiting me, even if it is subconscious.

The book is not to delve into the where's, and why's for a psychological exploration, it is sessions, and events; I have had.

I hope you enjoy reading about my life as much as I have enjoyed living it.

Mistress X.

 

Chapter 1 - Captured

 

'Ring the bell, and she will open the door, that is what she told me but which door, fuck, I should have listened more carefully. Great, what do I do if a woman answers the door, and it isn't her? Bluff it Adam, you always were good at bluffing. Well here goes nothing,' I thought as I looked at the four doors before me.

The instructions were simple enough, and explicit enough, it was just my stupid excitement at meeting a Dominatrix for the first time that had clouded, my memory.

I had no idea as to what to expect, I mean what did they do, just use a cane on your arse, tied to a trestle, not my idea of fun, so why was I here shaking, in trepidation? Very simple, the excitement, I am divorced, after a sexually boring marriage. She lay back, and waited for me, boring, so I was going from one extreme, to another. Looking for the excitement I had missed out on, even if intercourse was not part of the scene, it should be sexually, stimulating.

Stupidly, I had asked for a week with her, but she had said no, and emphatically, a first visit is a time for trials and tests, to get to know the client, so two hours, just to dip my toes in the water, she had suggested.

"But I write erotic books, and want to find out what I write about. Are you sure two hours will give me the experience I need, to feel the full effects?" I had asked her.

"You write dirty books, do you? In two hours you will feel the full effects, and leave with a very sore arse if you challenge me, again. You are paying for my time and experience, I am the dominatrix, I dominate, and you, do as told," she said forcefully.

"Yes, I accept that, so two o'clock on Monday at this address. I will make arrangements to meet my friends, once I am back in the UK. See you then," I said taken aback, at her tone.

"That's a good boy, and it is Mistress, as in 'Yes, Mistress, I accept that,' try it," she demanded.

"Yes, erm, Mistress, I accept that," I said.

"Good, remember it," she said.

Little did I realise at the time that she was already dominating me, and now I shook, as I pressed the bell.

"Yes," the electronic voice said.

"Erm, Adam to see," I began, she cut me off.

"Enter, the door is open," the voice told me.

I pushed on the door, and tentatively entered.

"Were you born in a barn, close the door, and then come up stairs," she demanded.

I turned, and closed the door, and made my way up the stairs, as I climbed onto the landing there she was in her black, shiny PVC outfit, her legs slightly apart, and her hands on her hips, and a scowl on her face.

"Hum, not very good is it, we agreed two o'clock, not five past, is this what you expected, to be put in your place? I am not the loving wife, but an ogre, perhaps? Humiliation is part of the scene, and that did not take a week, did it?

Would you like a coffee whilst we chat? I need to find out what interests you. I mean I am open to a lot of suggestions, but only do what, interests me. The list is not endless, but nearly. How high is your pain threshold?" she asked me.

"Well, erm, yes to the coffee, please, and not high to the pain, low, very low," I replied.

"Then may I suggest that you remember to whom you are speaking, 'Yes to the coffee, please, Mistress,' I did tell you, perhaps six strokes of the cane will engage the brain. Have you ever been given the cane?" she asked.

"Erm, well, erm no, erm, Mistress," I said, trying to be correct.

"Erm, well erm,' what is up with you, there is no question. It is Mistress, or pain, and a lot of pain. The instruction is very simple, I am the Mistress, and you are the slave, the subordinate to me, so you always, I shall repeat, always, use my title, or you will feel my cane. Is that, simple enough?" she asked me.

"Yes, erm, sorry, sorry, yes Mistress," I said.

"A lot of work is needed I can see, kneel there submissively, get used to the idea that I, dominate," she told me pointing to a spot where I knelt down.

"That is just another aspect of being a dominatrix. My we are doing well, quarter of an hour, and you have experienced two aspects. What about cross dressing, no don't answer. I see you as a sissy maid, so you will be one. I will make the first coffee, but after that you will make mine, and serve it to me, humbly," she said, now smiling at me, and stroking my cheek gently, sexily even. I smiled back, this was nice, and a side to her I had as yet not seen.

I knelt there fearful of moving, yet enjoying the experience, it was weird, fear and pleasure, all rolled into one.

"There, I made it, so you drink it. Why? Because I made it, what I put in it is irrelevant, sour milk may be, but you will drink it. Some clients desire to drink my personal Chardonnay, I may have made it with that just for you, as a treat," she told me.

"W-what is you erm, personal Chardonnay?" I asked timidly.

"Mistress, what is your, personal Chardonnay, MISTRESS! You don't know, well perhaps, if you are a good little boy, I may allow you to taste it, once you know; what it is? For now sit here next to me, and drink your coffee. Mistress makes an excellent cup of coffee, doesn't she?" she asked me.

"Erm, well erm, I don't usually take sugar, but it is nice erm, Mistress," I said, sitting beside her on the settee.

"You are not into pain you said that is fine, what about bondage, being tied up, unable to escape?" she asked.

"I have yet to try it, I suppose when kidnapped that is what would happen, and that was part of my scenario, to be kidnapped. Is it popular, erm, Mistress?" I asked.

"Yes very, so you have no plans, a bit silly really, what if your friends are out, then what will you do?" she asked.

"I will see parts of England I have yet to see. I am very relaxed about it. I booked into the local hotel for one night, and then see what happens. Have you ever seen the Cheddar Gorge, or been to the top of Blackpool Tower, and then there is the Lake District, all the places I have never been to, have you?" I asked, smiling at her.

"No, I must admit I have not been to all those places, put your coffee down for a moment, please?" she asked me.

I put my coffee down, and she smiled at me, and seemed to eye me up and down, as if measuring me, assessing me.

"Hum, OK, yes I think I can make something of you. I do definitely see you as a female slave. You are not effeminate, but you have nice bone structures, a wig, make-up, and a slutty dress, or maid's dress, and that will be you. How good are you at cleaning?" she asked.

"I dust and Hoover, I am not that particular, but my place is not dirty," I replied.

"Don't let your coffee go cold. We will have a problem then; I am not OCD, but very particular, it must shine. I want to see my face in my boots, and that takes a lot of work, work you will be doing. Something wrong?" she asked.

"N-No, yes, OK, my arms don't seem to be working, I-I can't reach down for my coffee," I told her slightly anxious.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Y-yes," I said.

"It does work quickly; I didn't put sugar in your coffee, just a muscle relaxant, you see I have a story I wish to tell, and it occurred to me that you being a writer could write it, for me. I have been quoted like a thousand pounds almost, one penny per word, not much, but when we are talking about a hundred thousand words, it is. You wanted a week under my control, well you have it.

It will take about an hour for the drug to wear off, by then I will have you shackled, and dressed as I want. Slave, I am going to kidnap you. Are you excited, thrilled by the prospect of being my slave for a week, as you requested, but not quite. You will be held here, and chained to the computer, and I expect you to work, fail, and I will punish you. You will dress as I decide, and complete extra tasks like cleaning my dungeon for me, or my boots, to a brilliant shine.

Being a Dominatrix is not just using the cane on males, everything must be clean, the leather needs oiling, after cleaning, the rubber needs washing and dusting with talcum powder. The clothes need washing after use, the ropes need to be rolled up neat and tidy, and the floors scrubbed down, and most importantly, my toys need to be clean, and sterilised. Slave, you are going to be busy, now is this what you wanted?" she asked me.

I was about to say no, then thought again, was it? In my wildest dreams it occurred to me that it was. A week doing as told yet looked after, no worries, no complications, just do as told, and to write her story intrigued me; it took a moment to decide.

"Not really, yet the concept excites me, so I will agree. It is what I had asked for, yet more so, and that does worry me, but as they say, 'in for a penny, in for a pound,' so I agree," I said smiling at her.

"Excellent, being a bitch is part of my role, but tempered with kindness. Had you not agreed, then I would have booted you out, but now that I have your agreement on tape, I can do whatever I wish to you, work hard, or fear me.

I am, and always have been dominant, I like control, to take control, and be in control. I will respect your pain levels, but that does not mean that I will not push them, I will. So do not push me; it can be painful, to very painful, if I am annoyed.

You look smart, but I did ask you to wear old clothes, did you not listen to me; that is bad," she said smiling at me.

"Yes, erm, Mistress I put clothes on I well, don't like, and I was going to throw them away, or give them," I told her.

She smiled at me, took hold of my ankles, and dragged me off the settee onto a cushion on the floor. Then she sat on my chest, and took hold of my shirt, and ripped it off me. She yanked my shoes and socks off, and then undid the belt, and ripped my trousers off, and under pants and put them through a shredder.

"That is one hell of a powerful shredder. You did do as I said, and put your wallet in your other jacket, didn't you? It will now be shredded if you didn't.

For the most part I am an actress, playing out the dreams of my clients. Most want to be kidnapped. They know that I will release them; it is just a game, we play, act out. They like the bondage, the pain of the cane, as I instruct them, to be good. They are in charge, but allow me, to dominate them, and come back, for more.

With you, I decided to take control fully. I decided to act out my own dream, to be an author. We will share the proceeds sixty, forty, my story, your effort, my name on the book. You obviously, will get the forty percent. Like now, who, controls whom, you are free to leave, I have not tied you up, have I? You are now under, my control. To be a good dominatrix, you have to have a kind nature. Use the cane with consideration for, the recipient. Go to their limits, but never beyond, to ensure that is the case, they have a safe word, usually, mercy.

What you need to ask yourself is. Do you have that word?

What have I done, well it is really very simple? I have taken control. I am not a criminal, but at this moment in time you must be worried, and concerned that I, may be? Nice, for the first time, I am, in control, total control.

The drug makes you weak, too weak to fight me, to stand even, yet you felt me stripping you, saw me strip you, and can hear me, and yes, speak, but below your neck, you are totally, incapacitated.

I did read your scenario, and decided to do, as you asked, but with my own twist, to it.

You wanted a week with me, can you write a book, in a week?" She asked.

"Not really, a week to write the draft, but then it will need rewriting, proof reading, and adjusting, as long as there is no research, involved. How long will I be like this, I need the toilet?" I asked her feeling the need coming on.

"Two hours, so I had better make some arrangements. The first and most important thing is that I am not, a prostitute. I do not sell my body, I sell my time, to act out your, darkest, or deepest desires. I have, and will see you naked, enjoying my pleasures, as I make you, do as told. You may, or may not see me, naked, or partially naked," she told me.

The door bell rang, "Ah my maid, and slave have arrived, and on time, as is required. I will require their help to get you ready. How you will soon find out, she told me, and left to press the buzzer letting them in. They arrived in the room, and looked down on me.

"Please, join us, before you, lies my latest slave. They wish to be controlled for a week, whilst writing my book. They expected to find out what I do, because they write, Femdom books. They said that it was research, I decided that they can write my book, now which do you think they will be doing?" she asked them.

"They will be writing your book, Mistress," one replied.

"Did you hear that? As my maid, she said Mistress, showing me the respect I have earned, a sore arse, will get you, to the same point. Meet my slave, she is also in a higher position than you, at the moment, and she will be called Miss," she said pointing to a female stood in the doorway.

"My maid is in a higher position than my slave, and she calls my maid Miss, so she deserves a more respected title, from you. You will call her Mistress, which leaves me as the highest person, in the hierarchy, so you will call me Ma'am. Miss," she said pointing to the slave, "Mistress," she said pointing to the maid, "and Ma'am, and on your knees," she said, indicating herself. "My maid and slave, will now get you ready, while I will put your bag in my safe, which is not in this room. You have two choices, leave naked, or as I dress you, or you can complete your task, and then I will return your clothes, to you. I am a bitch, aren't I?" she asked, and laughed.

She rolled me over, with the maids help, and put shackles on my wrists, and then rolled me back, and sat on my chest.

"There now I have you, well almost, you will be doing as told, and therefore do not need to speak, my instructions will be explicit, so to get you used to the idea I will give you a treat," she told me.

She stood up, and rubbed her groin for a few moments.

"Hum, nice, there now the juices are flowing, and my panties are damp as my juices flow into them," she said.

Whether it was true or not I don't know, nor whether it would be a treat, as I wondered what the treat, was to be.

She put her hands up her skirt, and removed her panties, and put them by my mouth, "Open," she commanded, smiling at me, I didn't.

She moved, I didn't see where she moved her hand to, hidden by her leaning over me, but I felt my nipple being crushed, and I opened my mouth to cry out, but she pushed her panties in, and then put tape over the top, as she smiled at me.

"Like I said, you do as told, if not, it hurts, which took away some of the treat I just gave you. I mean for a slave to actually taste me that is a rare treat, it may be second hand, but even so, a treat. Now what can we do until the drug wears off?" she asked, sitting back on the settee.

"My maid and slave, will now take you, whilst I hide your bag, and they will put something on you that will be needed, later," she told me and picked up my bag, as the other two began to lift, and carried me into, another room.

They put something between my legs separating them, and then attached it to a hoist, and lifted my legs up, up, and up, until my arse was off the floor, they then slipped something under me. They pulled it between my legs, and fastened it with sticky tabs at the side, and lowered me down again.

"Excellent, now we don't need to worry about you relieving yourself, on my floor. Like I said, it relaxes every muscle. Call it punishment, for not doing as told.

"Or if you like, just some research, as to one of my other activities, baby play. Yes they want to wear a nappy, and be fed by a bottle. They do not fill the nappy, but for you, I may make an exception. Learn the rules quickly, to avoid more embarrassment, and shame. It is a mild start, to my control over you, using shame, and embarrassment. Wearing a nappy at you age, and able to use the toilet, shame on you," she told me, "What shall we dress you in, baby clothes, or female, or we could just leave you naked, except for the nappy," she said, and smiled.

Whatever it was I have no idea, I was embarrassed, yet it wasn't, in my scenario. I asked that she help me understand the role she played in the scene, which she was doing. Was it how I visualised? Well no, it wasn't, and I could not object to her taking me into, her realm. There was no doubt she was in control, my hands were shackled, and I was naked almost; I felt I had no option, but to go along with her.

"There is no point in asking you questions, so I think I will select your clothes, don't go away. No I will not leave you here, come on the floor is slippery enough for us to drag you," she told me.

They got hold of my shoulders again, and began to drag me along, down the landing to a room on the left, and pulled me inside, and lay me down.

What a room, I looked around agog at it, whips, canes and other things to cause pain hung on the wall, various pieces of equipment with straps to bind the victim to them stood on the floor. On the wall by the door was a cross in the shape of an, 'X,' again with straps to bind the victim, what for, I had no idea, their arse would be against the wall so she couldn't use the cane on them, could she?

Before I had worked out how she could use it, I was being dragged again. I had heard the click of a lock, and the slight squeak of a hinge, but never realised that it was a cage, she had opened. It was about two feet tall, four feet long, and three feet wide. Now I am five feet ten, and not that small. They pushed and shoved me inside, bending me as they did so, it was not comfortable, but not painful, and then they closed and locked the cage door, and she put the key down her cleavage, and smiled at me.

"I do know where people bend, and bent you appropriately, when the drug wears off you can make yourself more comfortable, shackled, and in my cage you are going, no-where. I will now put your bag away safely after closing the door, locking it, and switching the light off. Slave Adam, you are now my prisoner, and slave; get used to it," she told me and stood up, she left me in darkness, locked in the cage, and room.

I tried to move, but the drug had as yet not worn off, so I lay there unable to look around the room, yet in my mind's eye I could still see it, and shook my head. What had I let myself in for? She seemed nice and friendly, but had this nasty streak, a vindictive streak, yet tempered with kindness, as she had said.

She seemed to have empathy, but was demanding, thoughtful, but controlling, at every turn there was a contradiction. Yet I liked her for some odd reason that was why I had agreed, because I liked her, yet feared her, again a contradiction.

It wasn't long before the acrid taste of her pervaded my taste buds from her damp panties, nasty, but nice; every single thing was a contradiction. How can a worn pair of panties with love juices soaked into them, be nice? It was, it was her control, an intimate means of control, so nice, but nasty, at the same time.

The door opened, and she entered, she sat on a throne like chair, and smiled at me.

"Shall we start, this is a tape recorder, and I am going to tell you about an embarrassing episode. You are male, so I will not rely on your memory," she said, and switched the tape recorder on.