Cathy's First Time

by Lady Tressa

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© Copyright 2014 - Lady Tressa - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/f; D/s; domme; naked; bond; cuffs; gag; chain; hobble; cage; bdsm; cane; display; club; stage; hum; oral; les; cons/nc; XX

My name is Cathy and I am a twenty year old college sophomore, majoring in the liberal arts. Recently I attempted to satisfy a long standing curiosity by having a session with a professional dominatrix. It was a most unpleasant experience and I would like to describe it in detail.

I am an extremely attractive blue eyed blond, five foot eleven, with an athletic figure. My orientation is heterosexual and I have a very active sex life. More guys hit on me that I’m capable of accommodating, and I admit that sometimes I’m not too tactful in turning them down.

Despite my heterosexuality, I have a kinky side to me. I’m not interested in bondage sex with any male, but always wanted to submit to a dominatrix, and be at her mercy. From browsing various Internet web sites I had a pretty good idea of what dominatrixes do to submissive females.

Finally I made the move and instant messaged a dominatrix who was in a chat room. She sent me her photo, which I reciprocated, and was surprised to learn she was sixty years old, taller than myself, and weighed at least two hundred pounds. I was really impressed with the photo and wasn’t troubled by her age.

The dominatrix, whom I shall refer to simply as Mistress, quoted a tribute fee of three hundred dollars for a two hour session at her dungeon, which seemed reasonable. After voice verification by telephone, we agreed the session would be at 3:00 on a Saturday afternoon.

We really didn’t get into the specifics of the session in advance. I was told that I would be required to be nude, restrained and subjected to corporal punishment and lesbian sex. Mistress emphasized that the intensity of any pain would be calibrated so as not to exceed my limits.

I pulled my Chevy Cobalt into her long suburban driveway precisely at 3:00, and entered her attached garage through a walk in door, after which I knocked three times on the inner door, and awaited her answering.

My attire consisted of denim shorts, a white sleeveless pullover blouse, and five inch red stilettos. I hadn’t been certain how to be attired for the occasion, and upon inquiring had been granted permission to be as I was. Mistress was quite emphatic that I not wear a bra or underwear.

It took about sixty seconds before Mistress answered the door. She was attired in a vinyl mini skirt, red bustier, knee length boots, and an outlandish blond beehive wig.

I had never seen a woman her age attired so provocatively, and couldn’t help thinking about the vanity of it, of course I kept these thoughts to myself.

“Good afternoon slut” she stated crisply, directing me to accompany her to the living room. Mistress had previously made clear that I was not to speak without her permission, and I abided by her edict. Still I found her addressing me as “slut” to be derisive and wondered if this treatment would continue.

Once in the living room, Mistress commanded me to strip nude in front of her. She then cuffed my wrists behind me, using a pair of steel handcuffs, explaining that it was only temporary, and I would be restrained in some other manner, once in the basement dungeon.

Mistress then strapped a ball gag into my mouth, which was a big turn on. I’d always wanted to be gagged, but this one had a very large ball, which caused my jaw to ache. It was fixed so there was no way I could slip it off.

Then I really got scared. Mistress took a chain leash, about nine feet long, fastened it around my neck, and used it to lead me to the basement. For some reason all I could think of was the asphyxiation fetish, which I had read about earlier. This terrified me, but the fact that it wasn’t a rope leash eased my fears.

Once she had me in the basement Mistress explained what was in store for me and I did not like it one bit. She stated she thought I was a hot looking slut and should be put on public display.

Her idea of public display was that she and an associate dominatrix would transport me to a local lesbian bar, where I would be put on stage and made to please the customers. I shook my head vehemently in opposition, but Mistress just laughed at me.

I wanted to try to persuade her to change her mind, but the gag was so restrictive I couldn’t utter any intelligible words. “Don’t worry I know you only paid for a two hour session but I won’t charge you extra and if I make any money off you I’ll give you a share”, she remarked glibly.

Mistress went on to explain that the bar, where I would be taken, had amateur night on Saturdays. I would be required to eat the pussy, on stage, of anyone willing to pay a fee.

To make it even more bizarre I would be dressed in a burqa during transport and when being introduced, but for my sexual performance would be fully nude. Mistress would provide me with a wig, which would offer some protection against being recognized, in addition she planned to make a video of my performance.

At this point I was still nude, with my wrists cuffed behind my back, gagged and the leash still around my neck. I was ordered to sit inside a metal cage, and Mistress rearranged the handcuffs so my wrists were cuffed behind me, to the metal bars on the cage.

“I’ll be back in a while, you’re getting a bargain since you only paid for two hours” she remarked sarcastically, before leaving me unattended. She was considerate enough to remove the leash, which had been fastened rather tightly.

What happened next was even more revolting. Mistress had arranged for a session with a second female submissive, while I remained locked in the cage. A tarp was placed over the cage to prevent me from observing this session.

For nearly two hours I could hear the gagged sounds of a female. It was quite apparent that she was being whipped and then fucked with a strap on, but not once did I get a look at her.

Once the other submissive had departed, Mistress removed the tarp covering the cage. By this time the gag had taken its toll, my jaw was aching and I still had drool on my face.

Mistress obviously sensed this, sarcastically remarking, “Oh my is your gag uncomfortable, I keep all my sluts gagged unless I need their mouth for sex, however since you’ve been such a good slut I’ll change your gag”.

The ball gag was removed but what replaced it, while less painful, was hardly palatable. It consisted of a piece of panty hose balled up, which was stuffed into my mouth, then sealed with duct tape. Once again Mistress went upstairs, leaving me unattended.

I found the thought of public display at a lesbian bar, forced to perform sex, to be abhorrent. While I expected, and could tolerate, being fucked anally with a strap on, and made to lick Mistresses pussy, I never thought that a dominatrix would subject a novice submissive to what she had planned for me.

About two hours later Mistresse's associate dominatrix arrived. While not attired as provocatively, the associate was about fifty years old, heavy set, with a demeanor suggestive of cruelty and mean spiritedness. Her name was Claire.

“All right slut it is time to prep you for transport”, announced Mistress. At this point Claire took over, removing my handcuffs and extracting me from the cage. Much to my surprise, my gag was removed, after being once again warned I could not speak without permission.

I was then made to put on a black burqa, with an attached veil to cover my face, after which a whorish looking blond wig was put on me. “They will love a blond bitch in a burqa and red heels”, roared Mistress with obvious delight.

Once again the leash was put around my neck and would be used to lead me around. I just could not escape being gagged, as another ball gag was strapped into place, but at least this one wasn’t so tight and I probably could have slipped it off.

Mistress reiterated what she had said earlier about keeping her submissives gagged, but assured me that my mouth would get plenty of work while on stage.

The start of my act on stage would be humiliating by itself. I would be made to take off the burqa, then kneel on the floor in a prayer position, and make chanting sounds. If they did not satisfy Mistress, I would be immediately whipped on stage, in full view of the crowd.

Claire demonstrated how I was to kneel and chant, but I wouldn’t be required to perform it until I was on stage. My wrists were cuffed behind me again, and a set of leg hobbles were attached to my ankles.

Mistress explained the purpose, “When I take your handcuffs off on stage I don’t want you to even think about trying to escape”.

Using the leash, I was walked up the stairs to a van parked in the driveway. It was very difficult to walk with the hobbles, as the connecting chain was only about twelve inches long, obviously I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to.

It was completely degrading, and I had yet to make a public appearance. The veil covering my face concealed the ball gag. I probably could have passed for a Muslim if I wasn’t in handcuffs and leg hobbles, with a leash attached to my neck. The red stilettos really didn’t go with the burqa either.

I was put in the back of the cargo van, and made to sit on a love seat. Mistress sat next to me, while Claire did the driving. As the van left the driveway, Mistress began groping my cunt after pulling up the lower part of the burqa.

Perversely enough I was enjoying this groping, which Mistress clearly realized. “I should have stuffed a vibrating dildo up your twat and tied it in place, but you’re not here for your pleasure, maybe a good fisting is what you need”, she stated, before removing her hand from my sex.

Thankfully I wasn’t fisted and Mistress spent the rest of the trip on her cell phone, apparently in regard to an upcoming session with another sub. The trip to the bar took about twenty minutes and we pulled up to the rear door, which faced an alley.

Using the nine foot leash, Mistress led me into the back room of the bar. My pace was pathetically slow due to the hobbles, and I sensed Mistress was angry that I wasn’t moving faster.

Mistress went to the front of the bar to talk to the manager, leaving me under Claire’s guard. When Mistress returned she smiled and announced, “its show time”, and led me to the stage.

It was a fairly large stage with the bright lights preventing me from getting a good look at the crowd. Using a microphone Mistress announced that the crowd would be treated to an American convert to Islam, a remark which really angered me.

Continuing to ham it up for the crowd, Mistress announced, “The slut enjoys sex with other women but since her religion prohibits it, she will be allowed to do it on stage”.

The leash and handcuffs, but not the leg hobbles, were removed and I was ordered to remove the burqa. I complied, leaving me fully nude except for my heels, and was immediately ordered to kneel on the stage and begin the ridiculous chanting. The crowd roared with laughter, as I was made to chant for nearly three minutes.

Addressing the audience Mistress quipped, “Ladies the slut knows if she disobeys she will be whipped immediately, I’m certain you wouldn’t want that”.

Several members of the audience yelled out “whip the slut”, and I feared that to please them, she might do just that.

Mistress did not whip me, but she announced to the audience that for one hundred dollars, I would provide oral sex on stage, to anyone willing to pay. Only one female in the crowd, there were no males, immediately put in her bid, which Mistress readily accepted.

I was made to put the burqa back on, and once again I was handcuffed, with Mistress quipping, “sluts usually eat pussy better without their hands, as you can see she is also wearing leg hobbles so she won’t try to escape”.

The woman bidder, was about fifty years old, weighed at least two hundred pounds, and looked ridiculous in a red mini skirt. She walked up to the stage, paying Mistress the hundred dollars, and a chair was provided for her to sit on.

A pillow was provided for me to kneel on, and after the woman removed her mini skirt, my head was pulled forward into her crotch. Using the microphone, Mistress told the woman if she wasn’t satisfied with my mouth work, to say so, which would result in my being whipped immediately.

When I first agreed to the dominatrix encounter I expected at some point to be required to perform oral sex on another female, but never on a stage in public, dressed in a burqa. To compound my misery the woman had a distinctly foul vaginal odor.

Before I could begin my mouth work, Mistress observed that I was straining forward to keep my head in the correct position. Her solution was to once again put the leash on me and use it to bind me to the smelly woman.

This was done by passing the chain underneath the woman as she sat on the chair, then tying it to the rear frame of the chair. The result was that I was unable to stand up, and my face was sealed inextricably to her crotch.

For nearly ten minutes I worked vigorously trying to please the woman. Her loud erotic cries were disgusting, as was her odor. I just can’t understand why someone would pay one hundred dollars, to make a fool of themselves on the stage of a tavern.

Finally I was told by Mistress to stop. She had been standing directly behind me, a flogger in hand, ready to use it on me if the woman complained about my performance.

Mistress then announced to the audience that the show was over, which resulted in several members yelling “more, more, whip the slut”. It was welcome relief that I would be leaving the bar, but knew that my ordeal was far from over.

Claire led me by the leash, as I shuffled in my leg hobbles and in handcuffs, out to the van, where I was made to sit on the love seat once again. This time Mistress would do the driving, while Claire sat next to me.

As I wasn’t gagged at the moment, I took the liberty of inquiring of what lie ahead for me. “You’re going to learn how to properly take a woman by mouth, your performance on stage was poor and you should have been whipped”, Claire replied.

This conversation clearly angered Mistress, who responded with, “Gag the slut, she wasn’t given permission to speak, and I’ll decide what happens to her when we get back to the dungeon”.

It appeared that tension was building between Mistress and Claire, or perhaps it was just some ploy. While Mistress hardly impressed me as the benevolent type, I was greatly concerned that Claire was even more sadistic. At any rate I was made to wear the dreaded ball gag again.

Before the gag could be inserted, I protested my treatment, demanding that my restraints be removed and that I be released as soon as possible.

This angered Mistress even more, and she announced that I would be taught a lesson I would never forget. Claire strapped the gag tightly into place, preventing me from saying anything else.

Upon arriving at her home, I was removed from the van and taken immediately to the basement dungeon, by Claire and Mistress. My handcuffs and leash were removed, after which I was ordered to remove the burqa.

I briefly considered resisting, but my legs were still hobbled and realistically I knew I could not escape. In short order Mistress put a leather handcuff on each of my wrists, which were immediately attached to an overhead bar.

“Maybe a couple of hours standing and a good whipping will teach you some respect”, intoned Mistress. She continued to berate me, for what she perceived to be my lack of appreciation that I was receiving more hours of bondage than I had paid for.

Since I was ball gagged I wasn’t able to plead or reason with her, not that it would have been to any avail. This woman was a psycho and my immediate concern was what else she might have in store for me.

I quickly learned that one of her techniques is sensory deprivation, particularly solitude. In my case it was done by blindfolding me, then playing religious music over her satellite radio system. At least it wasn’t Islamic music.

You can’t imagine how agonizing this was for me. I could not determine if Mistress was in the dungeon or elsewhere, because of the music. She indicated that I would be receiving some heavy duty physical punishment, but I had no idea of knowing when.

The psychological torture of the music continued for at least twenty minutes, at which time the music stopped. For the next twenty minutes, no one spoke with me, but I could hear the sounds of Mistress and Claire moving about in the dungeon.

The blindfold kept me from seeing any of this, and the gag stayed in place. It was obvious Mistress had a preference for gags, as except for the time I was onstage at the bar, and briefly during transport, I was gagged continuously.

Mistress finally removed my blindfold and gag, and stated she was considering “renting” me to a lesbian couple for a weekend. In the meantime I was to receive a painful caning.

Once again she berated me for not being grateful for her generosity, namely that I had only been charged three hundred dollars for her services. I think she honestly believed that I should have paid more, to be humiliated in public.

The caning with a rattan, would consist of twenty strokes, after each stroke I was required to sound off with “Thank you mistress”, along with the number of the stroke. If my enunciation did not suit her, additional strokes would be inflicted until she was satisfied.

Mistress was determined to inflict the maximal amount of pain that I could tolerate. I ended up receiving twenty five strokes, after being accused several times of insufficient enunciation. The pain was excruciating and I felt that I was on the verge of passing out.

Evidently Mistress sensed this too as she ceased the caning, after which I was then taken down from the overhead and locked in the cage. Much to my surprise, I was not gagged, but the leg hobbles remained on.

Mistress seemed to take great delight in assuring me than my buttocks would be sore for days to come, with delayed onset soreness intensifying what I was already experiencing. “I should have given your fifty strokes but you would have passed out”, she added

For the first time I was allowed to speak, with my main concern not being rented out to some lesbian couple. Mistress said she was still considering the possibility, but might be amenable to my release if she felt I was sufficiently contrite.

My attempts to reason with her were unsuccessful. All I had wanted was a two hour experience with a dominatrix, but not to the point of public humiliation or severe pain. Mistress was flippant in her response, stating that her submissives must expect to be subjected to whatever her whims may be.

At this time the cell rang, with Mistress stepping out of my range to answer it. After a brief conversation she appeared visibly irritated. “The couple to whom I was to rent you has backed out”, she said.

While I had hoped this would prompt her to release me it did not. “You’re be spending the night with me and I’ll supervise you personally”, she announced.

My immediate fear was that I would be left alone, locked in the cage for the night, but quickly learned otherwise. I would spend the night chained to the same bed as Mistress, in her bedroom.

I was put in leather handcuffs, with my wrists cuffed in the front, which was certainly more comfortable than steel cuffs in the rear. However that is where the comfort ended. A leather cuff was also attached to each ankle.

Mistress took me upstairs to her bedroom, where I was made to lie on my back. Using chains, she stretched my ankles and wrists as far as they would go, leaving me so tightly secured to the bed frame that I was unable to sit up or otherwise move. That she explained is how I would spend the night.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she inserted a mammoth dildo into my twat, using a chain around my waist and looped through my crotch, to keep it in place. Using a remote unit she demonstrated the erotic torture I would be subjected to.

Depending upon her whims, the vibrator would be used to bring me to climax, or more likely to bring me to the edge before shutting it off.

It was also made clear that I was her “anal servant”, which meant that I was expected to pleasure her by mouth, at her command.

Surprisingly the overnight ordeal proved rather uneventful. Mistress was evidently extremely tired and fell asleep quickly, without bothering to turn on the vibrator, or make me use my mouth.

The thought of escape entered into my mind, but the sadistic dominatrix had secured me so tightly that it was simply impossible. She had even put mitts on each of my hands, to prevent me from using my fingers in any way.

I resigned myself to a night of misery. The vibrator, while uncomfortable, was not painful, and not being able to move made orgasm next to impossible.

While I was unable to obtain any significant sleep overnight, Mistress had no such difficulty, and about 7:00 AM she awoke, seemingly well rested. My hope was that she would be in a benevolent mood and set me free.

This clearly was not the case. She continued to berate me for being a useless slut, and not appreciative of her generosity, which meant that I had underpaid for her services. After commenting that I appeared too comfortable, she put me in even more uncomfortable restraint.

After being made to lie on the bed on my stomach, my right wrist cuff was attached to my right ankle, and likewise with the left. She then attached a spreader bar between my ankles leaving me in a frog tie.

The dildo remained chained in place but the vibrator wasn’t turned on. Once again I was made to wear the dreaded ball gag, and left unattended for nearly twenty minutes.

When Mistress returned she was fully dressed and announced what she intended to do with me. Since she had commitments elsewhere, I would be left in the custody of Claire, the associate dominatrix.

“If you think I’m a sadist you will find Claire to be even more so. She has permission to use you in any way she sees fit and if you disobey her you will receive a whipping far more painful than the one you received yesterday”, she announced.

I wanted to beg Mistress to release me, but the gag prevented me from doing so. She quickly sensed this and sarcastically referred to my inability to speak, remarking that, “Your sad eyes don’t sway me one bit, I’m going to keep you gagged unless your mouth is needed for sex”.

Once again I was left unattended, frog tied and gagged. About fifteen minutes later I could hear the sounds of two people elsewhere in the house. I knew that Claire had arrived, and that my painful ordeal was far from over.


It didn’t take long to confirm my fears that Claire would be at least equally, if not more, sadistic than Mistress.

Claire was seemingly joyful as she observed the welts, inflicted the previous day by caning, and suggested that additional strokes might be forthcoming.

She did remove my gag and for the first time I was permitted to speak. I pleaded for my release and her response was not encouraging.

First on the agenda was that I would be required to participate in a disciplinary session with another female sub, who was expected to arrive within the hour. This would last for approximately two hours.

For the time being I was left uncomfortably restrained, with leather cuffs used to connect my ankles and wrists in a frog tie manner, as I lie on my stomach. The oversize dildo remained chained inside my cunt.

The second possibility was that I would be once again dressed in a burqa, then transported to a rural honky tonk, where I would repeat my act from the previous night, only this time the clientele would be heterosexual male bikers. I begged to be spared this anguish, with Claire ridiculing my appeal.

After about five minutes of my pleading, Claire had heard enough and I was once again gagged. This time a spider gag was used and it was much more uncomfortable than the previous ball gag.

About forty five minutes later the female sub arrived for her session. Naked, her wrists bound behind her with rope, and on a leash, she was led into the bedroom by Claire. The sub, a full framed brunette, at least thirty years old, hardly seemed terrified.

“You two are going to get much better acquainted” chuckled Claire. I was released from my frog tie but my wrists, still in leather cuffs were connected together behind my back. My ankle cuffs remained on, but not connected.


However Claire had much more in store for us. I felt impending panic as ropes were tied around both our necks. “Don’t worry I’m not going to strangle you” chuckled Claire, as a separate rope was used to tie our necks together.

“And by the way get used to the gag you’re wearing, as you’ll be wearing it tonight when you appear in public”, she added. It then occurred to me that the purpose of the gag was to force my mouth to remain open, making it more accessible for male cocks.

Any hopes of avoiding a hog tie were quickly dashed. My right ankle was tied to the left ankle of the other sub, after which my left ankle was tied to her right ankle. Another rope was used to connect our ankles to our wrists, with the arrangement even more uncomfortable than if only one person were tied. The two of us were now bound together such that we could barely move. I could never have conceived of such a restrictive position, it is amazing what an imaginative dominatrix can do.

However Claire was not finished with our bondage. “The chain from your cunt dildo must be quite uncomfortable”, she remarked with feigned solicitude, as I nodded in agreement.

My chain and dildo arrangement indeed was uncomfortable, as it was fastened excessively tight. Claire proceeded to remove both items from my bondage, leaving me cautiously surprised. However I should have known that she had another form of coital mischief ready for use.

What she had was a thirty inch long dildo, made of flexible plastic and with a head on each end. It was obviously a dildo designed to be shared by two subs simultaneously. She quickly inserted one end into each of her twats, as we lie on our stomachs.

Then came the bad news. “This is a vibrating dildo that can be set for different speeds. You will be required to keep it inside your cunts for at least half an hour. During that time if the dildo should slip out of either of you, you will be both severely whipped”, she announced with obvious delight.

This was erotic torment of unbelievable intensity. After ball gagging the other sub, Claire sat in a chair and switched the vibrator speeds so as to assure maximal arousal, clearly hoping it would become dislodged, justifying a whipping.

The fact that we were lying on our stomachs made it easier to retain the intruders, but I had a distinct feeling that the other sub wanted to see both of us whipped, and would intentionally drop her half of the device.

The arousal of the device humming away inside me was agonizingly pleasurable. Claire kept varying the speeds, letting it run on high for thirty seconds, switching it off for thirty seconds and other combinations.

 Nothing is more agonizing than to be brought to the verge of climax, then have the vibrator abruptly stop. I have heard that dominatrixes sometimes punish their sub if they climax without permission. Fortunately Claire made no attempt to do so and I experienced multiple orgasms.

I’ve always been capable of multiple orgasms and am a squirter, something which did not escape Claire’s notice. Her response was to take a riding crop and pussy whip me several times. “I don’t like squirters”, she announced.

It wasn’t fair, I was playing by the rules by retaining the dildo, yet punished anyway. Claire was indeed meeting my expectation that she was even more sadistic than Mistress. I decided that I was going to be further punished even if the dildo stayed in place, so I let the intruder fall out, hoping she would think it was unintentional. Even if I were punished, hopefully that would be the end of the dildo sharing.

Claire’s response was swift and painful. For nearly five minutes both our cunts and buttocks were harshly flogged. It wasn’t quite as painful as the caning I had received from Mistress, but it certainly had an additive effect.

With the flogging complete, our gags were removed and we were ordered to mouth kiss each other until told to stop. This was for nearly ten minutes. The other sub was such an aggressive kisser I didn’t have to worry about my performance. It was disgusting, and for the first time I was glad to be gagged again.

Claire was determined to inflict even more punishment on me. She inserted a large butt plug into my anus and warned me that if it was removed, I would be required to wear a metal chastity belt for an extended period of days, not hours, with Mistress being the key holder.

“I thought I’d tie you comfortably to the other slut but your attitude is still poor, so I have something else in mind for you”, she added.

That something else was being made to kneel in the cage, facing the wall, unable to see about the basement. To keep me in place the leather wrists cuffs were attached to the bars, with my legs spread out, and each ankle attached to the bars with a leather cuff.

This was the most uncomfortable position I had been put in so far. My restraints were arranged so that it was impossible to sit down, leaving me no choice but to kneel in the cramped cage with my ass sticking up.

Claire and the other sub left the dungeon, leaving me unattended. I was in a state of abject terror. No one knew where I was and my fear was that Mistress might either keep me as her slave, or sell me to someone else, perhaps at the biker bar.

I was helpless and could only await the return of Mistress before learning my fate.


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