I Will Be Your Dominatrix
Sarah Welcombe
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2009 Sarah Welcombe
Cover photo copyright © 2009 Fotolia / Pixhunter
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
This ebook contains content that may not be suitable for readers 17 and under.
- o O o -
I Will Be Your Dominatrix
Hi. My name is Cindi, and I will be your dominatrix today. And how are you? That’s great. Now, as you know, you pay me in advance. You may leave a tip for me at the end if you wish. Have you have a chance to look at our menu? You check off the items you want. I’ll give you a few minutes to make up your mind, then I’ll be back.
Cindi turned and left the room. The guy looked nervous. Must be a novice.
Outside in the hallway, she stood in front of the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair, checking her appearance. That new stylist had done a good job with the highlights. But the layering wasn’t right at the back. She twisted to see if she could figure out what was wrong. It was too hard to see the details with only one mirror. Never mind. The guy would never notice.
Cindi fluffed her hair and stepped back along the corridor toward Dungeon 12, making sure her heels clicked on the floor with a sound he’d be able to hear. She opened the door.
How are you getting along? Have you made your choices? I see you’ve picked the caning. One of our specialties! How would you like it? Medium hard? Okay! We’ll see how you get along with a medium hard! Now I’d like you to strip naked for me. Come on. Don’t be slow about it. Put your clothes over that chair. Neatly. Hurry up! We haven’t got all day. You only paid for a half-hour. Underwear off, too. Leave them on top. Tidily! Now come and stand in front of me. Legs apart. Put your hands behind your back. Look at me when I talk to you.
Yes. He did look nervous. She was pretty sure he wasn’t going to bolt. Yet something didn’t feel right today.
It wasn’t this guy’s nervousness. Cindi had dealt with so many nervous beginners. She could handle them with confidence. So what was it that was bugging her?
To tell the truth, something had been bugging her for several months now. Something about working at McDungeon’s didn’t feel right anymore. But she couldn’t put her finger on it.
She slipped back into her session script—the routine she had practiced so many times before.
I have some basic rules of etiquette for you. From now on, you will address me as “Mistress.” If I give you an instruction, you obey it. If I give you a piece of information, you say, “Yes, Mistress.” Is that clear? Good. You don’t speak unless I speak to you first. If you need to say something at any other time, you go, “Permission to speak, Mistress.” Understood? Now get down on your knees. Kneel in front of me. Put your hands on your head. Now stand up again. Heels together. Stand at attention. Keep your hands on your head! Stay there. Don’t move.
Cindi stepped to the implement closet and picked out a medium-weight cane. That should give him his money’s worth. The cane looked scary but was actually less stingy than the thin one.
I’m going to cane you. Ah, ah, ah! No—I didn’t say you’d done anything wrong. You listen to what I say to you. I said I’m going to cane you. What I say in here, goes. Your job is to do as I tell you. Got that? Now bend over the back of that chair. Bend over properly. I can see you’ve never been caned before. Move your feet slightly apart. Toes point in. Legs straight. Stick your butt out to make a target for me. No clenching. Arch your back. Look up. Perfect! Now, beginners usually get six. But since you’ve started acting up already, you’re going to get twelve. You’ll probably end up being sorry you asked for a medium hard. Too late to change your mind! You’re going to remain in that position until I explicitly order you to stand up. Is that understood? Okay. Caning coming up. Prepare for a beating.
She shocked him with the pain of a hard cane stroke, then allowed him to recover for a moment, then made him squirm and gasp again with another stroke of the cane.
This was the best part of the job, she thought. Watching a guy struggle to take the pain was dishing out.
But she’d done this so many times before. That was what had been bothering her. This thing she did at McDungeon’s—this was a role she played, coming into the room, putting guys through the routine. It was a role she had acted out so often. And yet—it was a role that now felt restricting. That was it. Like this act wasn’t her anymore.
Five years she’d worked at McDungeon’s now. Five years.
She finished caning him. The last stroke was the most fun, as no matter how hard she hit him, it would be too late for him to complain. She really laid it into him.
The caning left twelve evenly spaced red welts across his ass. Perfect, she congratulated herself. Good job.
Stand up. Your punishment isn’t over yet. I’m going to give you some corner time. Go and stand facing the wall. Hands behind your back. I’m going to make you wear handcuffs, too. Like this. Now. See this quarter? I’m going to hold it against the wall. I want you to press your nose against it. Hold it in place! And you stay like that, you understand? I’m going to leave the room. If I come back and that quarter’s fallen to the floor, I’ll cane you again. Is that clear?
He was trembling from the shock of the caning. Cindi left Dungeon 12 and closed the door behind her. Five or seven minutes in the corner ought to do him, she told herself, especially since it was only a half-hour session. And she had to leave time to cane him again in case he let the quarter drop while she was out of the room. The handcuffs would prevent him from retrieving it.
Cindi looked at herself in the mirror again. Yeah, that layering on her hair definitely needed fixing.
As she gazed at the mirror, it came to her. You’re too big for this job now, she told herself. You’ve been doing this routine for too many years. It’s time for you to grow. It’s time for you to change. Time to be yourself instead of being a role.
But what else could she do, apart from working at McDungeon’s?
When she started this job she was twenty-eight. It was such fun. But now she was thirty-three. It was still fun. But it was the same routine, the same role-playing, the same act every time.
Should she quit? Maybe she should. But then what?
Shoot. She’d forgotten to ask the guy if he wanted clean feet or smelly feet. It was McDungeon policy that you always asked the foot-worshipers how they liked their feet. After all these years of doing the job, she’d forgotten such a basic thing. Maybe that was confirmation that she didn’t care anymore. Maybe it really was time to quit.
Cindi had never kissed a guy’s feet, but she’d kissed two women’s feet when she was first in training five years ago. One woman had clean feet. It was humiliating kissing her feet, but kind of sensual at the same time. Kissing the dirty feet was disgusting. But some guys liked it. This she knew from long experience.
How were her feet? She’d been at McDungeon’s all day now. Strappy sandals for part of the day, but thigh boots at other times. Probably her feet were pretty strong. Oh, well. The guy would just have to put up with it. She didn’t really care how he felt about it. Yeah. She didn’t care anymore.
Time to see how the guy was doing. Cindi entered Dungeon 12 and kicked off her black strappy sandals.
And how is everything for you? Are the pain and humiliation levels right for you? Good. Your corner time’s over. Let the quarter drop to the floor. Step back from the wall. I’ll get those handcuffs off you. There you go. Now pick the quarter up and put it on that table. Once you’ve done that, get down on your knees for me. Hands and knees. Now crawl over to me. I’m going to make you thank me for punishing you. And the way you’re going to thank me is by kissing my feet. Start kissing. Both of them. All over. Don’t stop! Keep kissing my feet. Do it till I tell you to stop.
As he kissed her feet, she made up her mind. She would do it. She would quit. To do what, she wasn’t sure. But as soon as this session was over, she would tell the owner, Jessica, that this was going to be her last shift at McDungeon’s.
The guy was actually making quite a good job of kissing her feet. The touches of his lips against her flesh felt pleasurable. But time was almost up.
You can stop kissing my feet, now. Get up on your knees and face me. Ooh, look! Mr. Stiffie’s come out to play! Look at Mr. Stiffie. Start touching him. Masturbate. Show me how you masturbate. Do it faster. Come on. Hurry up. Work your penis. Harder. Put some effort into it. Hurry up and come, or I’ll punish you again. Work it. Ooh! There you go! You’re coming for me! Good boy!
After the guy had cleaned up and left, Cindi changed into her street clothes. The end of the session was also the the end of her shift at McDungeon’s. It was time to do it. She would quit.
She went to see Jessica, the owner of the McDungeon’s
“I’m through,” she told Jessica. “Don’t sign me up for any more shifts.” When Jessica asked her what the reason for her decision was, Cindi just said, “It’s time to move on. I need to do something new. I need to be me, the person I am now.”
She felt so free as she walked out of the door of McDungeon’s into the evening air. A warm, fine evening. At last. Here was liberty. Here was the start of the rest of her life. She felt great.
For a few weeks, Cindi hung out at home and relaxed. Then she started job hunting and found a position as a publicist and events organizer in an advertising agency. With her bright, outgoing personality and her attention to detail, she was perfect for the job.
Life at the advertising agency was a bit different from working at McDungeon’s. Five days a week of eight-hour days was more than she was used to. She had to go to an office every day and spend most of the day on the phone, answering emails, and attending long and drawn-out meetings. And the money was a fraction of what she was used to earning. That was the worst part. She wasn’t used to having to budget her expenses.
Cindi made a list of all the items she needed to buy each week. But as soon as she saw something she wanted, she would buy it anyway, even if it wasn’t on the list. A new giant monitor for her computer at home. A new cellphone. Some fragrance. A new outfit.
After a few months, she added up how much she was spending in a month. The total horrified her. How could she be spending so much money? Her expenses were way more than she was earning.
This is ridiculous, she thought. I’m thirty-three. I’m still young. I should be enjoying myself—not having to cut back on my lifestyle. I need to find a job that pays better.
She gave her two weeks’ notice at the advertising agency.
On her way home, on a whim, she walked into McDungeon’s and found Jessica there. “Need me back?” she asked.
“Sure!” said Jessica. “We are so busy! You can take a session right now if you want.”
Cindi donned a leather outfit in her size and strode toward Dungeon 12. Good old Dungeon 12. It was good to be back. She opened the door.
Hi. My name is Cindi, and I will be your dominatrix today.