I've always experimented with dominant role play in the bedroom, but never really got to explore it to its full potential. My partners always seemed to enjoy the more traditional approach to straight role play, with the woman being the submissive one. Not that I didn't enjoy being the sub, or that we didn't switch it up once and a while, but I always felt that I would eventually have to go outside my relationships to experience a fully dominant role. Men who enjoy playing submissive are more common than you think, but you have to go to the right place. Most men, with submissive leanings or not, are not comfortable exploring it with their partners. Their need to be seen as protectors and hunters overpowers their urge for submissive role play. If, they're paying someone for it, however...
I ended up answering an online ad for part time dominatrix work. Making the leap into the sex industry wasn't too difficult for me, as I always considered my own need for dominance to be mainly psychological. This type of work has definitely been eroticized, but most doms continue to hold harsh "no sex or nudity" policies. This companies wasn't one of them.
The company provided me with some basic dominatrix training; mostly safety concerns and liability clauses, but the rest is up to us. Besides learning the basics of the role play, its a very creative field that forces you to adapt for each client, and each situation. We were asked to perform a couple dry runs in front the company heads, with an actor playing the submissive role. You've either got it, or you don't. Most woman looking to do this professionally have years of practical knowledge on the subject, anyway.
Before I know it, I book a client. I don my full ensemble, from corset, to thigh high spiky heeled boots, and I'm on my way to becoming a full fledged sex worker. Or so society tells me. I still maintain that it's more like I'm fucking their minds, their memories, their emotions. And then, there's a happy ending.
The girls work on the third floor of a walk-up office building, with a small lobby connected to four separate spacious rooms. The part time girls split our time between one room.
Several clients go by before one really peaks my interest. There was the man who wanted to be spanked with the tortoise shell brush his mother used to hit him with. In very motherly, concerned tones, I told him that mommy loves him, but he's been a bad boy. I could feel his boner in my leg, as I bent him over my knee. I let him suckle at my breast, with his head on my lap, as he got off. Too sweet of a scenario for my tastes.
The next, was the type of client that I expect to get most. Men with high powered jobs with a need to be restrained, blindfolded, gagged, and flogged. They call it "the alpha male vacation". This is the basic scenario we learned about in training. He could only speak if he said, "yes mistress", and I didn't allow him to get off at the end. Did it indulge my lust for dominance? Yes. But, it rang a little "dominatrix 101" for me.
My third client, however, reminded me why I wanted to do this in the first place. Dominance role play, with a twist. The client card says, "Doggy Play". I feel a smile spread across my face. I knew there was a reason for that crate in the corner.
I hear a knock at the door, and before I reach for it, I get an idea. I quickly text the receptionist, asking her to tell him to kneel, and scratch at the door instead. Not before long, I hear a pawing at the lower part of the door. I open it, revealing a middle aged, though attractive, man on the floor in front of me. I've made him kneel in his suit. I already enjoy standing over him.
"Stay," I say with authority. He obeys, despite the fact I'm making him do it in front of another client, at the doorstep. "Good boy. Now, come." He follows me into the room, crawling behind me, and I shut the door.
"Sit," I command. "No need for your doggy sweater in here. Let's get all that off of you." He sits still, as I remove his suit jacket, tie, button down shirt. His has a nice chest too, for an older gentleman. He clearly has played this role before, as he doesn't exactly smile, but there is an excitement and willingness to please in his eyes, just like a dog's. "Good boy," I say, patting his head. "Let's get a collar on you."
This part of the role play is every bit as important as the later stuff; and it can be even more so. It establishes character, power roles, severity, what exactly the client is looking for with the appointment. He wants to be a good dog, for example. His compliant behaviour tells me that he doesn't necessarily need anything too rough for this session. That could change though, as we go along, so I need to keep reading him intently.
"Stay," I tell him, as I kneel down beside him with the collar. As I buckle it, I get a chance to take a closer look. Clean shaven, despite it being the end of the day, with a striking jawline. He must have gone home to shave before coming. He is a good doggy. I pat his head, ruffling his hair, ending with a touch on his soft face.
"Alright, let's do some training with you, doggy," I say when I have the collar on. I stand beside him, leash in hand. "Heel," I say, as I slowly walk beside him. Luckily, I used to have a dog, and know some of the training lingo. My spiked heels click on the floor as I walk, as he crawls soundlessly beside me. I can feel him looking at my ass, and I really put my hips into it. I stop, and give a short tug on the leash, upwards, indicating to sit. He does. "Good boy," I remark. "You're going to get a treat later."
I walk him around the room like this a couple times, then have him sit while I get him a drink. I quickly fill a bowl of water at the sink in the washroom, not wanting to leave my dog unattended for long. When I return, he has a guilty look on his face. I have to turn away to smile at the role play, then turn back in character. "Here you go, puppy," I say, setting it down. "Come have a drink."
I take a quick look around, but nothing seems amiss. I wonder what he has done. Hasn't been long enough for him to chew anything. He leans forward, happily lapping the water with his tongue. I decide to test him, gently tapping the side of the bowl with my boot. A splash of water lands on the floor beside it. "Clean it up, doggy," I say, indicating the puddle of water at my foot. Without flinching, he laps the water off the floor, finishing with a lick at a droplet on my boot. "Good boy," I say, patting him again.
If his tail could wag, it would. He feels better about what he did. But, what was it? Until I know, I cannot provide the appropriate punishment. Maybe the boot licking was enough. I tell him to sit and stay, and take a quick look around the room.
His head lowers, avoiding my eye contact. I hold a controlled stare with him, as I take a leisurely lap around the room, heels clicking menacingly, as I do. He's sweating, I can tell I'm close. I stop at a restraining table in the corner, and take a look underneath. Looks like he spilled something, but there's nothing around. Then, it clicks in. Oh my god. My eyes go back to him, and I can feel that my jaw has dropped. I walk with purpose back to him, and he cowers, expecting to be hit. Instead I grab the leash, and yank him towards the crate in the corner. He struggles to keep up, half choking under the taught collar. He'll live; we only walk a few steps. I unlock the door, keeping the leash tight in my hand. I force him inside with the heel of my boot. I slam the cage door behind him, and make sure the lock is latched.
"Bad dog!" I yell once he's in, leaning down and aggressively pointing. I kick the side of the cage, making a satisfyingly loud clanging noise. I take a breath, containing myself, and stand back up. "You're going to have to stay in there awhile."
I leave the room briefly, to talk to the receptionist. "How long is my client booked?"
"Two hours today."
"Great. Do have any voyeurs waiting?"
"Let's see. Janet does. I could ask if she wants to switch."
"Could you? I'm looking to double book. Tell the client I'm ready for her."
I do an entire other appointment while my doggie sits in his cage. Once, I see him lick at the attached water bottle, like a gerbil, and I get immense pleasure from it. And the woman enjoyed the treat of having a spectator, so it was win-win. And a third win, for me.
I let the female client go from her hour appointment, as I glance at the clock. About a half hour left. Just enough time for the "happy ending". But exactly how I'm going to end this, I'm still not exactly sure.
"Are you ready to be a good dog?" I say to him, through the bars of the crate. His butt wags slightly, and his eyes light up. I bend down to unlatch the door, and he barrels out excitedly.
"Yes, you're happy to be out of there, aren't you?" I say, reaching down to pet his head. "But I haven't completely forgiven you yet. You're going to have to do one more thing for you owner. Can you do that for me, boy?" Responding not to what I said, but the energetic tone of the last question, he lets his mouth slacken, giving me a smiling pant. Looking at his tongue, I get an idea. I didn't say whose happy ending, did I?
"Come here, boy," I say, removing my panties. If only I had a bit of peanut butter or something, to put on myself. I decide to stay standing, as it's more of a dominating pose. He crawls close to me. "Good boy. Now, sit. You want a treat, doggy?" He wags his butt again. "Here you go boy," I say, touching my pussy. I'm surprised to find that I'm a little wet. I part myself slightly, to show it to him. "Have a lick, doggy. Be a good boy for your owner."
He enthusiastically complies, leaning forward, giving my pussy little dog-like licks. He can't use his hands, so I spread myself, making sure he gets my clit. "Mmm," I moan. "Good boy." His tongue is skilled and quick. Considering his fetish, I'm sure he's given plenty of oral to women throughout his life. Would it be foolish to think that I'm his first mistress to please in this way? Mmmm. Yeah. I don't care. I can't believe I'm getting paid for this.
"Are you going to make your mistress come? Like a good boy? What a good puppy." I touch my pussy as well, putting a finger slightly inside, feeling like I could indeed orgasm from this. I think of him in that cage. The puppy dog eyes, the slight whines throughout the woman's appointment, hearing the small metal ball roll around as he licked the water bottle at the side of the crate. Oh yeah. Good boy. I vibrate the finger at the opening of my pussy, moving it fast, back and forth, as my good dog gives my clit short, quick licks.
"I going to come. Good boyyyy... " I concentrate on my dog, on his knees in front of me, wanting to please me so badly, and I give myself over to it. "Ohhh!" I cry out, coming on my finger, and my sweet doggy's face.
"Good boy," I say again. He doesn't even make a move to wipe his face.
He leaves, still in character, crawling out the door. I sit down for a moment, catching my breath. Best job ever. Then, I suddenly remember the "accident" on the floor. Well, very nearly the best job ever. I get some paper towel from the washroom, and the bottle of bleach. When I bend to clean it, I notice an empty bottle of water hiding behind the leg of the table. I wipe the small puddle, and it is indeed water.
Hmm. Maybe I've got a little more work to do on my intuiting.
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