Mistress Ellen’s Academy 4

by Bob Salinas

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2007 - Bob Salinas - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; D/s; bond; bdsm; susp; pillory; toys; cons; X

Chapter 4– Betsy Applies to become Mistress Betsy

One warm, lazy afternoon, Bob and I were lying around the house. As usual, I was naked- well, except for my slippers. Bob wore only a ball-stretcher- moderate and mainly symbolic, to remind him of his self-assigned submissive position. I had moved in with him two months after we met and we had a very tight relationship going. Bondage and sex were very important, but even beyond that we were very serious about each other as friends and lovers.

Bob was fooling around with his computer and a spreadsheet while I read the latest issue of San Francisco New Realities- a sleazy rag we picked up regularly at our local liquor-store-cum-porno-shop (it seems that every liquor store now sports an extensive selection of soft-core porn). SFNR goes heavy on B&D stories and 'contact' ads, mainly for the Los Angeles area, but in the 'Where To Sin In San Fran­cisco' section I found an ad for "Mistress Ellen's Academy" in Dublin.

I read the ad curiously, since it's not often you'll find such establishments that far out of the way- places like that are primarily urban establishments, and Dublin was both relatively near us and rather far from San Francisco. Their ad featured photographs of several gorgeous Dominants (all tall blonde bimboes, of course) and said that they had just begun offering their facilities to couples in need of a well-equipped dungeon. Also, they were seeking carpenters (presumably to build new 'devices') and new Dominants to expand their staff.

I strolled into the study, plopped my bare butt down on the carpet, and waited until Bob had finished graphing our PG&E bills for the last year and a half. "This is neat... look at how the gas peaks here"- he pointed to a sharp peak in January- "like you would expect, but the electricity component stays pretty much constant. That says something about what our conservation tactics ought to be."

"Very nice." (I'm not one to gush over computer-generated graphs.) "Here, look at this." I handed him the folded-over news­paper and waited while he hit ESCAPE and three other keys in rapid succession to initiate a hard copy of the graph. Then he leaned back into me to read while the ink-jet printer hummed (and occasionally clanked). "What caught my eye was that they're looking for Mistresses. What do you think, my submissive Master and soulmate?"

He thought for a moment and then replied carefully- "Hell, you know I'm not the jealous sort. If you want it, go for it!" I smiled and threw my arms around him, thanking him by wiggling my naked body against him and pulling him to the floor.


Considerably later that afternoon, Bob brought out the camera bag and we started assembling a model-type portfolio. He took several pictures of me in street clothes (from moderate office wear to one of me bending over in tight slacks) and half a dozen of me mostly naked (taken while I was changing street clothes). He took quite a few more of me in sexy lingerie, always a happy pastime. Then we selected several poses of me with "Crawl, worm!" on my face and my body wrapped in the closest I could come to professional Dominatrix gear- tight leather slacks, a body-crushing rubber corset, an assort­ment of exotic footwear, and finally a lacy black Merry Widow with a whip hanging from a belt at my waist. (For an amateur, I found I was fairly well equipped.) He took one of me standing by the pillory and then together we got several poses of the two of us with him as my 'victim'- three with him bound and suspended, two with him in the pillory. By the time we finished three rolls of film, we were both so hot that we couldn't wait any longer and wound up sharing sex right there on the garage floor!

After we showered and cooled down, we went back up to the study and assembled a 'Dominatrix Resume'.



Betsy Chalmers
4356 Goshen Street
Union City, Ca. 94587
(510) 475-8104


Position as a dominatrix.


5'6" tall, 115 pounds, light brown hair, green eyes, long legs for my height, prominent butt, quite strong, moderately athletic.


Two live-in relationships over five years in which bondage sex has played a strong recreational role. I have also been the Top in many bondage fantasies between relationships.


I adapt ordinary household equipment (from clothesline to gardening equipment) for use in bondage. My preference is to expand beyond the use of bondage equipment (cuffs, gags, etc.) to facilitate bondage fantasies. I am quite familiar with the adaptation of common hardware items for erotic use.


I am unusually strong for my size and put this to good advantage by employing suspension in bondage scenes. This turns the submissive's weight against him or her and to my advantage.


Although I prefer being Top to a submissive male, I also enjoy dominating women. I can also adopt the submissive role upon occasion, although this is not my role of choice.




On Monday, I took the rolls of film with me to work and ran off two sets of 5" X 7" prints (one of the privileges of working at a photo lab). Bob had done his usual excellent work, and that night we selected six of them to complete my portfolio. I wrote a cover letter and dropped it off at the post office on my way home from work on Tuesday.

I watched the mail eagerly until finally I found a plain white envelope marked 'confidential' with only 'M.E.A' in an intriguing Gothic calligraphy and a Dublin post office box. Inside was a single sheet of heavyweight watermarked stationery with a brief note.

Mistress Ellen's Academy
32674 Huntington Street
Dublin, California 94522


Dear Betsy:

            Thank you for your response to my ad in the San Francisco New Realities. I have reviewed your portfolio and am quite impressed. I am definitely interested in having you join the staff of my Academy. I would like to meet with you on the 23rd at 11:00 A.M. and look forward to meeting you.



                                                                                                                                                     Mistress Ellen

After Bob got home from work, I showed him the letter. He was very happy for me but did admit to being touched by a tiny twinge of jealousy. “Fun is fun but... I really would prefer that you reserved the delights of your tender body for me.” I threw my arms around him and assured him that I wanted that too.


On Sunday morning, I puzzled over the choice of clothes which I thought would be suitable for an interview for a Dominatrix position, finally settling on a pair of black shoes with sensible two-inch heels, a black minidress whose skirt was slit almost up to my usual mini-girdle, and a lacy pushup bra that built up and enhanced my cleavage (already pronounced enough to be a real source of pride). I climbed into the van, pulling my skirt up to my hips and flipping it off to the side so as not to sit on it and crumple it; this always puts a smile on the face of the truckers on I-680! I drove out to Dublin and eventually found the address- a classic Victorian mansion on a huge piece of heavily-wooded land and rolling hills.

I drove through the gate in the chain-link fence which surrounded the place and parked beside the house next to two cars and a pickup. At the front door, I found the first confirmation that I was at the right place- a simple white sign by the front door that announced "M.E.A." in stark black Gothic script. I knocked at the door, noticing that the knocker was an antiqued brass replica of an ankle fetter.

After a few seconds’ pause the door was opened by a very pretty woman in her mid-thirties, tall and brunette, wearing a floor-length gown with a neckline that plunged almost to her belly button. There were three more steps inside the door, and she looked two feet down at me over the prominent cliff of her bosom. "Yes?", she asked with a cool stare that I couldn't decipher.

"Good morning! I'm Betsy Chalmers, and I have an appointment to see Mistress Ellen at eleven." Her expression thawed and a smile broke across her face.

"Welcome, Betsy! Please come in." I came up the remaining steps inside the door and waited for her to close the door behind us. We were standing in what must have been the living room of the old house; it had been converted into a casual waiting room (empty at the moment) with a small bar.

"I'm Mistress Carolyn, the only full-timer here other than Mistress Ellen. She told me to bring you up to her as soon as you arrived- unless you were late, in which case I was supposed to knock you down, chop off your arms and legs with an axe, impale you on a sharpened fence post, set you on fire, disembowel you, and finally kill you by cutting off your head. Just kidding!", she said at the stunned look on my face. "I just have a finely-tuned-but-black sense of humor. Let's go up to meet the Mistress." She turned on her four-inch heels and I followed her swaying, full butt up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs she stopped at a beautiful hardwood door on which "Mistress Ellen" was emblazoned in gold-leaf Gothic script. Mistress Carolyn tapped gently at the door. In a moment, the door opened smoothly on a tall brunette, maybe forty, about 5'10" and 120 pounds, with long legs and a shapely bosom graced by a leather jumpsuit which fit her like a second skin. "Mistress Ellen, Betsy Chalmers."

"Thank you. Betsy, come on in and talk to me for a while." I stepped into what probably had been a large bedroom before being converted into an office. In the sunlight from the three windows she sat down behind a beautiful desk with a computer monitor and a few papers. Against the wall were a table, a filing cabinet, and two book­shelves.

"Have a seat, Betsy." In front of her desk sat a large, heavy chair with ornate arms. The back of the chair was delicately scrolled around the three holes of a pillory! "Yes, Betsy, that's a functional pillory. Almost everything around here has some bondage function. This house has been in my family since 1936. My parents were into bondage and modified one of the upstairs rooms strictly for their games, but I didn't find out until after they died.

“I finished college and moved back here. In the course of making the house my own, I happened on a small room whose only entry was through a closet in their bedroom. I was no innocent, but it was still a bit of a shock; we all know our mothers were virgins, don't we? And of course they would never think of being kinky. Anyway, I wondered for a while and then tried a few things out on myself, and then with a friend, and then on a friend, and really got into it.

"I've modified things over several years to make it what you see now- a multi-million-dollar operation devoted to fulfilling the needs, desires, and fantasies of our submissive clientele. Along the way, it keeps me fed and in underwear... at least as much underwear as I want to be in. Well, that's a thumbnail sketch of Mistress Ellen's Academy. Now tell me about yourself."

"Okay, but first let me say that I love what you've done here. You have a beautiful place."

"Thank you very much", she smiled, "but please tell me about Betsy."

"Okay. I work full-time as a developer/supervisor at Qualex- the complex out in Manteca that does the developing for most everybody in the Bay area. I live with my boyfriend in Union City, just north of Fremont; we met because of our mutual interest in B&D but we’ve discovered that we have much more in common than sex or B&D. We've been together for six months now and it’s beginning to look like a long-term thing.

"Before that I spent two years with a nice guy who was iffish on bondage. He moved back east and I was alone until I met Bob because I happened to look at some do-it-yourself bondage pictures he had developed. We have a serious, monogamous relationship; long before we met I'd tried occasional hooking, but that's getting dangerous, and I'm looking to settle down."

Mistress Ellen smiled warmly at me and opened up a little about herself. "I worked as a professional Top for a couple of years in various pro dungeons while I was in school and before I got the Academy off the ground. I enjoy running my own business and the people contact I get from being a Mistress when I want to.

"A while back I bought a smaller house in Pleasanton so I could devote this place to the Academy, which is a California corporation with an accountant and everything. It's completely legal, although of course there are gray areas- hey, life itself can be pretty gray sometimes. For example, we state up front "no sex"... we're not a whorehouse. But on occasion you may get hot- you're human- and want to fuck a client. That's your privilege, as long as you don't make a business out of it, and as long as it doesn't jeopardize my business. Just make really sure you use a condom, okay?"

"Which brings me to another item: I run a 'clean shop' here; all of my people are healthy, and I want to see to it that they stay that way. I go to a lot of trouble to make health insurance available to everybody who works here on whatever basis. Before you do anything here I'll have to see a clean bill of health signed by a real M.D.- no chiropractors."

"And there are two absolutes here. Number one, no drugs or other illegal stuff on the premises, and no working under the influence. Number two, privacy is utterly respected here; I want this place to have the same aura as a confessional. If you meet a client on the street with his family, you say nothing, you don’t even smile. If your priest comes in for a session, you say nothing."

"On the privacy angle... we ran up against a conflict recently when we began offering video services, for people or couples who may want to record their session for posterity or at least for their next weekend. We're just very careful that the tapes we make are of willing participants- recall that American courts say that a movie of sex with a bound partner is obscene on the face of it because it’s abusive, that one partner is helpless and vulnerable. That’s the whole point, of course, isn’t it? We keep the original videotape, of course, as a CYA; the client gets the only copy. What he or she does after that is their own business."

"As to finances: as a ‘contract consultant’- I think that sounds much more professional than ‘part-timer’- I give you 60% of whatever we charge for a session. You keep any gratuities, and you worry about the taxes. I report everything; I have to stay very, very legal."

"Okay, Betsy, what do you say?"

"I never thought I'd say this to another woman, but yes, I would love to be your Mistress!"

"Great. Welcome aboard, Mistress Betsy! Now let me give you the fifty-cent tour and show you where the action will be."



story continues in