I was 18 and my gay best, friend, Josh, took me to a leather and PVC party. I really had no idea what to expect. I wore a leather mini I had bought to make myself feel independent when I left home, but which I’d never had the bottle to wear in public. My best friend worked nights as a drag queen and, unbelievably, we wore the same size shoes, so he lent me a pair of his vertigo inducing high heels.
Josh was hanging around in my living room as I dressed. I shouted through the door that I didn’t know what to wear up top. He told me to come out so he could take a look at me. He had always been my fashion advisor, so I stepped out just in what I was wearing, the skirt, heels and a bra. I must admit, it was a rather nice bra. I had treated myself after splitting up with my last boyfriend. It was black with sheer cups and satin x’s covering my nipples.
He looked at me up and down and said, ‘You look hot honey. You were cut out for this. Just throw something over that and let’s go.’.
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but before I knew it, he’d thrown my biker jacket at me and started to head out the door. I put the jacket on over my bra. As I zipped it up, I could feel the leather rub against my bare skin. I’ve always loved leather. Ever since I was in a pony club as an adolescent, the smell always triggers a hunger. Ponies were my boyfriend substitute and I secretly enjoyed the feel of the saddle, bouncing between my legs, just a little bit too much at times.
We arrived at the club and it was heaving inside. As we stepped past the bouncers and entered the venue it was all I could do not to stare. At. Everyone. My first instinct was to turn and run. Instead, I took a deep breath, grabbed onto Josh’s arm just a little bit tighter and tried to look like I belonged there. We found a little table near the bar and he motioned for me to sit down. I crossed my legs, feeling my leather skirt inching up to almost expose the top of my hold up stockings. Trying to pull it down, I immediately took in the heady smell of leather and musk around me. It wasn’t unpleasant at all. Josh headed to the bar to get drinks. It was then that I took the opportunity to look around and take in what was going on around me.
There were men and women in all sorts of outfits. Some of them had almost nothing on except a leather mask and a collar, while others were dressed in extraordinarily elaborate get ups that made them look like something out of a sci fi movie. I even saw someone tied up to some sort of cross structure on the other side of the room wearing a gas mask. There were nurses dressed head to toe in rubber. There were men being used as if they were tables, on all fours with plates of hor dourves on their backs. There was even a woman who looked like a cat with whiskers that seemed to be metal spikes coming through her cheeks. I wasn’t a virgin or a prude. I’d even let one boyfriend in through the backdoor. But this was something I had no idea existed.
It was quite hot and steamy in the room. I guess that was to be expected really, so I unzipped my jacket and exposed my bra. I wasn’t going to feel embarrassed. Given the way most of the people there were dressed, I looked like a nun. Jack arrived back with the drinks and sat down across from me with a big smile on his face. ‘So, luv. What do you think?’
‘To be quite honest, Jack, I haven’t a fucking clue. This is crazy.’ I sipped my drink through a straw as I looked around and I could see Jack cruising other men with his eyes. Out of nowhere, there appeared a man at my feet. I hadn’t even noticed him. He was on all fours and was wearing nothing but a metal belt thing around his waist with what looked like a padlock on it. He also had a big leather dog collar around his neck. He looked up at me and said, thinly, ‘Mistress, may I?’
‘Huh?’ I thought. ‘What’s going on here?’ He started rubbing his face against the side of my shiny black patent leather shoe like a kitten. I responded by kicking him gently with the other shoe to push him away while simultaneously turning to Jack with the best ‘help me’ look I could muster up.
Jack was giggling his head off. He stood up and stood over the guy at my feet. His whole persona changed as he put his booted foot on the back of the guy’s neck and pushed him to the floor. ‘How dare you touch My Lady without her permission!’
The man seemed to allow Josh to flatten his face on the floor of the club and made grovelling noises, stuttering, ‘I’m so sorry Sir. Please accept my apologies.’
I hid my laughter behind my hand as I’d really experienced nothing like this before. Josh took my hand and helped me stand. He looked at me encouragingly, ‘Mistress, please tell this lowly urinal worm what he must do to earn the privilege of touching your shoes.’
I looked at Jack helplessly and trying to elicit further guidance from him with my eyes. He responded, speaking loudly, as if trying to make a point that the man on the floor, still with Josh’s foot on his neck, could hear, ‘Ah. I see. You don’t think he’s worthy of hearing your voice. My Lady, tell me what would please you. Whisper in my ear and I will inform him.’
Jack reached over and gently pulled me into his shoulder and muttered, ‘Just go with it. Pretend you’re whispering to me.’
So, I did. Feeling a bit foolish but starting to get kind of a kick out of this whole thing.
Jack turned dramatically back towards the guy on the floor and said, ‘She requests that you go and lie on the floor in the men’s toilet. She wants you to tell a dozen men that you are a piece of shit and that you deserve to live in a bog. She will be sending spies to make sure that you are behaving as she has demanded. After you have completed this task then, and only then, may you approach My Lady and you will be allowed ask for permission to touch her shoes. Do you understand me worm?’
My jaw was on the floor. Jack removed his boot from the man’s neck and we both watched him as he crawled away towards the men’s room. Suddenly, a strange feeling overcame me. I took off my leather jacket and it was like becoming a super hero. A power flowed through me that I’d never felt before. I looked straight into Jack’s eyes and said, ‘I think I like this.’
He responded with a twisted smile. ‘I knew you would. I could always sense you had this in you.’
And that is how I learned that dominating and humiliating men was my calling. That was ten years ago and in that time, I have progressed to becoming a full time Domme with a fully equipped wardrobe and toybox. Because I love training new submissives and also teaching other women how to dominate men effectively, I work as an escort. I maintain a small stable of personal slaves to attend to my various needs. I have one who cleans my house and cooks for me. I have another who takes care of my clothes, with special attention to my shoes, keeping them polished and beautiful. I have two slaves, one male and one female, to attend to any of my other needs, practical, sexual or otherwise. But my need to dominate and humiliate is too great to be completely satisfied with my little ‘family’.
I crave new meat. Nothing pleases me more than seeing the shudder of fear and anticipation as a new submissive gives themselves to me entirely, enabling me to take them to the very edges of pleasure and pain. I derive energy and power from watching a man discover that the thing he despises most about himself can be manipulated and used to arouse him. That’s the moment both he and I know that he will do anything for me. That feeling is my life blood. That feeling is what makes me worthy of the gifts that are bestowed upon me in appreciation for the cathartic release felt by my slaves and submissives. People who don’t know what they need go to psychotherapists. People who know exactly what they need come to me.