I Want to be a Dominatrix

by Lady Tressa

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© Copyright 2014 - Lady Tressa - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; D/s; strip; naked; cuffs; gag; bfold; hood; hogtie; bdsm; cane; hum; oral; climax; cons/reluct; X

In the course of my twenty plus year dominatrix career, I have received numerous inquiries from females seeking to be a dominatrix, with the expectation that I will provide a submissive for them to practice upon.

The vast majority of these requests are summarily rejected, my business is dominating females, and to a lesser extent males. Periodically I use associate dominatrix to assist me, but they have already proven themselves.

One bit of sadistic mischief that I enjoy, is to invite a wannabe dominatrix to my house, on the pretense she will be allowed to audition, using a submissive provided by me. When the wannabe arrives, she quickly learns that she will be the submissive for the entire session.

Occasionally I do allow a wannabe to audition using one of my submissives, with the understanding that she must undergo at least one hour of submissive training themselves. In this type of situation I always keep my word.

Karen was a nineteen year old full figured type, who felt her destiny was as a stellar dominatrix, to both males and females. After seeing her picture, and chatting with her on the phone, I did not share the same opinion. She simply didn’t have the right stuff, perhaps a borderline dominant at best.

None the less she persisted in demanding an audition as a dominatrix, as if I’m the type who is obligated to fulfill such demands. Finally I told her that for three hundred dollars, she could have her request fulfilled. Ordinarily I charge at least five hundred for such a session, but she was unemployed and of limited financial means.

Financially I am in excellent condition, having retired from the restaurant business, and making a huge profit on the sale. Various inheritances and stock market investments have further enriched me. Therefore I can afford to do a bit of charity work from time to time.

As part of the restaurant sale agreement, I am entitled to unlimited cuisine and beverage for myself. Regulars there still regard me as the owner, and several clients have been procured at the restaurant since my retirement.

Being retired has given me much more time to devote to the dominatrix business and has lessened the need to hire associate dominatrix’. When not engaged in business, I own a race horse, although it has proven to be a loser, I frequently appear at a local race track.


Karen was due to arrive at my house at 10:00AM on a Saturday in February. There had been a snowstorm the previous night and the temperature by 8:00 was only twenty two degrees. She lived fifty miles away, and my fear was that the session might have to be cancelled.

I was greatly relieved when she called me at 9:00 and informed me that she would be on time. At 10:05 her red Chevy Cobalt pulled into my unplowed driveway and she made her way through the snow into my garage, clad in jeans, a beige pull over sweater, navy blue pea coat, and calf length boots.

Ordinarily I expect my female clients to be dressed more provocatively, mini- skirts are especially desired. However given the wintry conditions, I was forgiving in this case. After all, what if the stupid slut’s car broke down, standing outdoors in a mini skirt would be a chilling experience.

As dominatrix come in various shades, I’m a full figured type, standing six foot tall, nearly two hundred pounds, normally complimented by five inch heels and wearing an outlandish blond beehive wig.

Despite the fact that Karen had seen my picture, her body language upon first seeing me in person suggested she had a disdain for my appearance, despite the fact that she was hardly a twig. I kept that feeling to myself, but invariably it influences how I treat the slut.

Pleasantries are never exchanged upon the sub’s arrival, they are simply directed as to what room to proceed and what to do. Karen was directed to the bathroom and was given five minutes to strip completely nude, and present herself to me in the living room.

If looks could kill! The stupid slut must have expected that I would allow her to begin dominating a sub in her arrival attire. Quite prudently she did not voice any objections but I did discern a distinct look of contempt about her, for which she would pay dearly.

She presented herself to me in the living room nude, visibly angry. “Where is my submissive” she snapped in a most disrespectful tone.

You should have seen the look on her face when I informed her that she was the submissive and that no one else other than me, was participating in the session. As I sensed she might physically resist, I quickly cuffed her wrists behind her back, using a pair of steel handcuffs.

The verbal abuse I was subjected to was greatly beyond what I expected. Karen did indeed have a foul mouth and made no secret that she despised me. I gleefully admitted duping her, but assured her in the near future I would provide a submissive for her to dominate.

This was not sufficient to pacify her and it was time for some heavy duty punishment. I’m simply not a dominatrix who tolerates any verbal abuse. Karen quickly found herself hogtied on the couch, with plastic cuffs used to restrain and connect her ankles to her wrists. I prefer rope but secure rope restraint isn’t practical when the person is struggling.

Next Karen found a pair of my soiled panties wedged into her mouth, and sealed with duct tape. She was helpless and knew it, that and her contemptuous facial expression was most gratifying.

One must exercise care when stuffing the mouth with an object, with my rule being to keep the sub under constant evaluation. The stuffed gag does serve the purpose of forcing the sub to breathe through the nose, limiting their ability to struggle.

Ordinarily I dole out the corporal punishment in an incremental manner, which was not going to happen in this case. Using a rattan cane, she received six painful lashes, in quick succession, to her buttocks, causing her to scream to the extent permitted by the gag.

My next punitive tactic was to make her wear a spandex hood, effectively blindfolding her. Mindful that some subs panic when hooded, I assured her I would be close by at all times.

For the next twenty minutes I made her suffer in acute anxiety. She could hear me walking about, but had no idea what I was doing. To cause even more anxiety I simulated a call on my cell, inquiring about the possibility of allowing someone else to take her to a warehouse for sexual use.

This hit a raw nerve as she tried to beg through her gag not to do so. To prolong her anxiety I told the simulated caller to call within ten minutes with his decision.

This call I simulated as well, and the person wasn’t able to undertake the deal. I made her wait the entire ten minutes, and suffice to say Karen appeared relieved upon hearing this.

I decided to remove her gag, after a stern warning not to speak without permission. In no uncertain terms I expressed my opinion that she wasn’t cut out to be a dominatrix, and being a submissive was more suited to her personality.

She did begin to exhibit some degree of respect, such as addressing me as “Mistress”, but overall I sensed her attitude to be one of lingering animosity. That attitude would only intensify as I exposed her to more humiliation and pain.

Before cutting her loose from the hog tie, a tight fitting leather collar was placed around her neck, to which was attached a leash. A set of nipple clamps, connected by a short chain, was attached to her nipples, and a few yanks on the chain demonstrated what the consequences of disobedience would be.

The humiliation portion of her training proved productive. Still handcuffed, she was led about the house on the leash, and made to bark periodically. She was also ordered to kneel, and using her mouth only, fetch a rawhide bone, and keep it in place for several minutes.

By the time I had finished the initial humiliation training, the stupid bitch was in tears, begging for mercy. Ordinarily I am not responsive to such pleas, but in this case for some reason I decided to listen to her story.

Her tale of woe, not uncommon, was being raised in a single parent family, with the mother being an alcoholic. She alleged sexual abuse by her mother’s boyfriend during her early teen years. Then she became addicted to meth, at about age seventeen.

She first tried to support herself through prostitution, but proved to be a washout, an assessment that I concurred with. Her rap sheet was lengthy, or at least so she claimed, with arrests for shoplifting and drug use. Ultimately she ended up on SSI and had just broken up with a boyfriend.

While I still considered her a stupid bitch, there was something uncharacteristically moving about her story. Whatever the reason, it swayed me to temper my treatment of her.

One thing she would not avoid was providing sexual tribute to me, something I require of all my submissives. This would consist of kneeling handcuffed, while I sat on a chair with my crotch accessible to her mouth.

For nearly ten minutes I made her work so hard with her tongue, she was sweating profusely. Ordinarily a sub has to be induced to perform more vigorously, such as with an electro shock device but that wasn’t necessary in this case.

After she finished her mouth work, I tied her to the chair, considerably more comfortable than her earlier hog tie. However I still wasn’t ready to give her optimal comfort, so using the leash attached to the collar, the leather handle was attached to the chair frame to her front.

The leash effectively immobilized her, forcing her to sit still in a very rigid position. After ball gagging her, I toyed with her about wearing the hood again, which resulted in her pleading through the gag, with the leash arrangement preventing her from shaking her head. Magnanimity on my part prevailed, and the hood was left off.


I surveyed her restraints and was quite satisfied. Her wrists were bound behind her with a plastic handcuff, and a single cable tie connected her wrists to the rear chair frame. Likewise her ankles were spread and bound, to opposite legs, using plastic ties.

To prevent any babble, I ball gagged her, but using a smaller ball than I usually do, after all she had been panty gagged previously and I think she realized what would happen if she tried to speak. Personally I thought the ball gag enhanced her appearance.

Sitting comfortably on my couch, in full view of Karen, I smoked a cigarette and consumed a vodka and tea. Karen of course was hardly as comfortable as myself, and that of course was quite gratifying.

While my dominatrix business consists mainly of submissive females or males, paying to be dominated, on occasion I do use paid submissives. Recently for example a prominent, out of town businessman, was willing to pay one thousand dollars to dominate a non-submissive female, who would be willing to put up a struggle.

The opportunity was irresistible, so I hired a local female switch to provide the necessary action, and the arrangement worked well. I suggested to Karen that she might consider such an agreement, although I couldn’t assure her when these services might be needed.

My sense of charity sometimes gets the better of me, I just couldn’t see the stupid bitch continually stealing to support her drug habit. In this case the fact that she wasn’t a naturally submissive type was a desirable trait.

While Karen’s ability to communicate was limited at the moment, her body language suggested she might be amenable to such a scenario. I didn’t mention the fact that out of the one thousand dollars, the female switch only received two hundred.

After finishing my drink and cigarette, I spent about forty five minutes engaged in phone sex. This is one of my secondary activities, not nearly as lucrative as a live sub session, but if nothing else providing a way to occupy myself. Karen remained bound to the chair, as I sat on the couch while speaking on the phone.

The last hour of Karen’s session with me would be spent locked in a cramped confinement cage in the basement. I did release her from the plastic restraints and remove her gag, so the hour in the cage was relatively comfortable.

Removing the gag proved to be premature, as Karen began babbling about her plight. Ordinarily in a case like this electrodes would be attached to the sub, and electro shock applied if she spoke without permission. I just wasn’t in the mood to put her in restraints and subject her to pain again.

My response was to take a bucket of cold water and douse her with it. It silenced her immediately and I warned her that far more painful methods would be used if she spoke again without permission. She was left to shiver, without the comfort of a blanket.

In the meantime one of my associate dominatrix, Claire, called and I spent most of the hour conversing with her, while sitting on the living room couch. A CCTV unit enabled me to monitor Karen at all times.

To humiliate her just a bit more, I took the cell to the basement, and ordered her to speak to Claire. Karen was ordered to confess that she was a stupid slut, amongst other humiliating remarks. Claire, who excels at humiliating speech, got in a healthy dose of it.


All good things must end and at the end of the hour I decided to release her. The polite thing to do, in light of the snowstorm, was to keep her longer, but I had commitments elsewhere.

By the time she departed I sensed her animosity had diminished, but only to a mild degree. However I definitely expect to hear from her in the future, regarding work as a paid sub.

In the driveway she was having trouble starting her car but finally succeeded. With the stupid bitch’s car blocking my driveway, it would have been necessary to pay a mechanic to start it. Such is not my style.



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