FEMDOM FIRSTS: How Dominant Women And Their Submissives Got Into The BDSM Lifestyle - Volume 1 of the WellHeeledDominatrix.com Collection

by Nika Bella Dea

  About a month ago now, I promoted my old friend and co-worker, Linda, to editor-in-chief, with the plan being that Phil and I could go off, and do whatever we wanted to do. The first couple of weeks were great. We had a long weekend break in Colorado skiing, we swam with dolphins in Key Largo, and we spent some quality time together. All sounds great, doesn't it? But I'm BORED! I'm so used to being in charge, and having the kick of adrenaline when an exciting story comes in and I have only an hour to get it to press.

  So, I quickly found myself looking for the next adrenaline rush, and wondering where I could get that 'kick up the butt, heart-fluttering, yes, THIS IS IT!' feeling from again. About a week ago, Phil and I were lounging on the couch and, as usual, I was feeling restless as I couldn't get used to sitting around doing nothing. Although Phil is as used to having a busy lifestyle as I am, he is more laid back about down-time. His favorite phrase is, "Don't sweat it."

  While that may seem like a nice attitude, I cannot be like that. So, I started wandering around the downstairs, looking out the window, and generally wondering what to do when Phil came up with the idea of watching some porn. Now, I don't mind a bit of porn, I have to say, but I was surprised by his choice of genre. He slipped a DVD into the player and the first thing that appeared on screen was a woman in a leather mask (and little else!), holding a whip. There was a guy on his knees at her feet and she was smacking his ass with this long cat-o'-nine-tails thing.

  That piqued my interest for sure. I sat down to watch and Phil snuggled himself in next to me. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and, as the movie went on, I was aware of a change in his breathing. I knew he was getting excited. When you have known someone as long as I've known Phil, you just know when they are getting turned on. I have to say that this was not something I thought would have appealed to Phil, as he has always seemed such a 'manly' man. And, I wouldn't have been able to imagine him getting off on receiving pain from a woman.

  "So, what do you think?" he asked as he pressed the stop button.

  "About what?" I asked, unsure as to what he meant.

  "About us trying something like that out."

  I sat, and thought for a moment. Sure, I like telling people what to do, but it had never occurred to me that I could be telling my husband what to do. "What would you get out of it?" I asked.

  "Honey, try to understand that just sometimes I would love to be able to hand over control, and not be in charge. I've spent so long being the one saying 'do this, do that' that I would love for you to be telling me what to do for a change."

  As I said before, I know I'm something of an adrenaline junkie, and the more I thought about it, the more it appealed to me.

  "So, when were you thinking of?" I asked.

  "What's wrong with right now?" he asked, standing up, and making a move toward the bedroom.

  I followed him, and it became obvious that this was something he must have been thinking about for awhile because, there on the bed was a mask, some handcuffs, and a small paddle.

  "Please, honey?" There was a question in his voice, and I thought, why not?

  "Strip," I told him, quickly getting into my 'she who must be obeyed' mode.

  He did, and got onto his knees on the floor by the bed. "Hands behind your back," I ordered, and slipped the handcuffs onto him.

  "Lean your front part onto the bed," I said, wanting his ass to be sticking up in the air. I placed the blindfold on him, and then was slightly unsure where to start.

  "Tell me I've been a bad boy," he begged.

  Well if that's what you want, that's what you are going to get, I thought. I picked up the paddle, and said, "You are a dirty little bastard, aren't you? How dare you bring filth into my home?!" I brought the paddle down onto his butt, unsure how hard to do it.

  Phil moaned and I looked to his naked middle, and wasn't entirely surprised to see that he had a rock-hard erection. I brought the paddle down again, a bit harder that time. Bright red marks appeared on Phil's ass cheeks and I have to say that I felt wonderful! I felt alive and glowing, and realized that I could really get into this. It appealed to my authoritative nature.

  "More, harder," Phil begged but I thought I would make him wait a little while. I took my own clothes off, and realized how wet I was. I stood right beside Phil's head, and started frigging my clit. "Listen to how wet I am," I urged as I fingered myself. "If you are a good boy, I might let you eat me in awhile but, first, I have to punish you for not asking permission before you bought those DVD's." (I was really into it by then.)

  I continued to smack Phil with one hand while making myself cum with the other. As I moaned through my climax, Phil joined in, and shot his load all over the polished wooden floor. Fuck! I thought. Now I'm gonna have to clean that up! And then I realized something.

  "Lick that floor clean!" I commanded.

  Yes, I'm going to enjoy 'taking it easy' now!

  Imagine

  by Jo

  Do you ever imagine what your life would be like if you hadn't taken a certain course of action, and what you would now be doing instead? I know that I do. My name is Jo (Joanna, but only my mother ever called me that!) and my husband Clint and I are great advocates of the BDSM lifestyle. But, it wasn't always that way.

  I suppose I have long been the more adventurous one of the two of us and I never thought that I would be able to get Clint interested in this kind of thing. And yet, here we are now, both 'at it' every week! So, how did we get started?

  Just over a year ago, Clint and I went through what can only be termed as a rough patch. We were arguing all the while and I, for one, felt completely dissatisfied with our life. It had become boring and mundane and I was craving excitement, but didn't know where to get that from. I was snapping at Clint for the slightest thing and, while I knew that what I was doing wasn't justified in the circumstances, I also didn't know how to bring up the real thing that was bothering me.

  Our sex life had become extremely boring. I know that, when you have been together a while, these things can happen but I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him that flat out. I was restless, and wanted us to try new things; I just didn't know what new things. I finally found what it was I was looking for when I went on a business trip with Becky, a work colleague of mine.

  I had known Becky for almost five years by then and I knew there was something 'different' about her. I just didn't know what it was until that weekend. We finished our conference on Friday evening by eight o'clock, and had the rest of the evening to ourselves. Becky knew the town we were staying in far better than I did so, when she suggested we go clubbing, I was happy to follow her lead.

  Well, was I ever surprised when she took me to a fetish club! I had wondered if she was into something like that when I saw her outfit for the evening. She wore a skin-tight, black pencil skirt, sky-scraper heels, and a tight, see-through black lace shirt. She looked something like a Burlesque dancer when she topped the outfit off with long gloves and scarlet lipstick. Did I feel out of place when we got there and I was in my usual jeans and t-shirt!

  Anyway, we went in, ordered drinks, and sat down for a while. I looked around and I know I must have looked like an idiot because my mouth was open with shock at some of the things I saw. It seemed that most of the men who attended were of the submissive sort as I saw many on their naked knees, wearing collars, and being led around the place by their dom, which in most cases was a female.

  "Do you do stuff like this?" I asked Becky.

  "All the time," she smiled. "I thought you would have guessed already. Is it something you think you could be into?"

  "I think I need to learn more about it first," I replied.

  "Okay, let's go to one of the scene rooms and you can see the kinda things people do in there."

  She led the way to a room and, for a moment, I was shocked at what was going on. But, the more I watched, the more turned on I became. There were loads of strong women there, all telling their subs what to do, and deciding
when they would be allowed to cum, etc. But the men, far from looking as if they were in pain, all seemed to be enjoying it. A seed was planted in my mind and I wondered of something like this would take away the boredom I was feeling with Clint.

  Most of the time we had been together, he had been an extremely laid-back kind of guy who was always happy for me to make the decisions. I think it was because he was so 'nice' that I struggled to tell him our lovemaking was flat and boring. But, I began to realize that one of us needed to do something to make things change...and that someone was going to have to be me. I watched for a while longer, and actually became so turned on by the proceedings that I had to pay a visit to the bathroom to relieve my frustration. A quick fingering of my clit and I was a happy girl! I vowed that, when I got home, I would tell Clint what I wanted.

  I decided that there was no point in prevaricating so I came straight to the point, and told him where I had been that weekend. He went to get us a bottle of wine to share and we sat down for a chat. I told him how turned on I had been by everything and he looked at first shocked, then bemused, and finally seemed to realize that I was being serious.

  "Are you saying you want us to try that?"

  "Yes, I do. I did find out that it's not all about pain, though. A lot of it is about control. Don't you think it would be really exciting to be hugely turned on, and yet stopped from cumming until I decided that you could? Just imagine how massive that orgasm would be when it finally happened." He did look far more interested when I said that.

  "Okay, I'm game if you are," he said. "Let's give it a go."

  So, last night, we did. Because I wasn't too sure whether Clint would take to it, I didn't want to spend money unnecessarily on 'toys' so I looked around the house for what I could use. I found a couple of dressing gown ties, a feather duster, a leather belt, a table tennis paddle, and some scarves that could be used for blindfolds.

  I called Clint when I had everything sorted out. He came into the bedroom, looking around in surprise at the 'goodies' I had gathered.

  "Get naked," I commanded. He quickly stripped and I was glad to see that he was already semi-erect. He can't be thinking it's gonna be that bad! I thought.

  "Lie on your back on the bed." He did so and I tied his wrists and ankles to the bed, and then wound a scarf around his eyes for a blindfold. Now, let the games begin, I thought. I leaned over, and took his cock into my mouth to give a little suck to get him fully hard and he moaned when I quickly stopped. I didn't want to get him too far, too soon.

  I picked up the feather duster, and drew it across his torso and he began giggling helplessly. Hmm, maybe that's not the effect I was after. I began running my long nails up the inside of his thighs, gently at first, and then with more force until he had long, red lines criss-crossing his skin. When I got to his ball sac, I did the same there and he said, "Ow!" with surprise. I pulled my vibrator from the bedside cabinet, and switched it on.

  I knew that Clint thought I was going to use it on myself so I surprised him by pushing it against his ass. I didn't want to hurt him too much to start with so I only pushed a little, and tugged on his dick at the same time. When I felt how hard he had grown in my hand, I reached into the cabinet again, and grabbed a small bottle of lube. I poured it on the vibrator, and then I pushed it in him, to the hilt. His hips came up off the bed and he was moaning, "Please, don't stop!"

  Ok, I thought. Time now for the real purpose of this, and that's to see how well he can take orders. "Shut up!" I shouted. "You will cum when I say you can!"

  I straddled his waist above his dick, slapped him across the face with one hand, and played with my wet pussy with the other. I could see he was torn with confusion and lust. Once I had climaxed, I decided to leave him tied up for awhile, and went to the kitchen.

  "Be a good boy," I said. "I'll see you in awhile."

  "You're not gonna leave me like this?"

  "Oh, yes I am," I replied. "And, when I get back, I might decide to allow you to cum as well."

  I left him for an hour, did my stuff, and then went back in. That was the beginning of a long night. When I did allow him to cum, hours later, boy was it explosive!

  He now wants us to get more into it and I am looking forward to tonight. I'm going to blindfold and tie him up, and then I'm going to let him hear the click, click of my camera, while threatening to put the pictures on the Internet. Can't wait to see the look on his face!

  Meatloaf Memories

  by Tina

  Memories are a wonderful thing, aren't they? And the things that bring back memories, such as a scent, or a certain piece of music, can be amazingly evocative, and take you right back to where you were when it all happened. That's what the song "Two out Of Three Ain't Bad" by Meatloaf always does to me. As soon as I hear his rich voice singing, I'm taken right back to 1977 when I first heard it.

  I was only 18 at the time and I thought that Meatloaf was the greatest singer I had ever heard. I was at a yacht club disco with my school friends and we were on Easter break. The sun had been shining all day and it was a very mild night for April in the UK. I lived in London at the time, and was fed up with school. To be honest, I couldn't wait to leave.

  My parents insisted that I stay there until I was 18 as they wanted me to go to University. And, I would have done that but for the fact that I met Martin, who was the DJ that night. He was much older than me at nearly 30 and I thought he was almost like a rock star. He looked very much like David Cassidy at the time, who was one of my favorite stars. I almost swooned every time he smiled at me.

  I finally plucked up the courage to go and ask him to put my favorite song of the time on. He had to shout in my ear to get heard above the music. "I'll put it on in a minute, gorgeous," he yelled...and I felt my heart melt. He called me gorgeous, I thought. "I just wanna play this one by Meatloaf first."

  I nodded, and stepped back to listen to whoever this 'Meatloaf' guy was. And, that is why I will always associate Meatloaf with the night I met Martin.

  He came forward to have a slow dance with me at the end and, once more, it was to Meatloaf. Little did I realize then how true the words would become, because here we are 30-odd years later and I can still say that 'I want Martin, I need him, but I'm never going to love him.' And, he is happy with that fact.

  He understands me like nobody else has ever done and, although we may have split up a few times, we always end up getting back together for nobody else gives me what Martin does. We currently live in a huge mansion in the English countryside (Martin later became a producer) and, most of the time, I am happy and content with what we have. My only regret in life is that I never had kids but what's the point in crying over something that is never going to happen? So, I keep my tears to myself and I have to admit that I still get very angry about things.

  And, that is where Martin comes into his own. For, you see, Martin brought me into a world that I never even knew existed when I was only 18, and that is the world of BDSM. He is a submissive, and likes nothing better than for me to step on his balls while wearing my high-heeled shoes. We have gotten more immersed in this world over the last few years and, yet, when I think back now, I can't quite remember how we first got into it.

  I do know that Martin was the one to initiate things and, when he got me to agree to live with him at the age of 20 (I never did get to University), things seemed to progress from there. The first time I remember it happening, I was still pretty young and, when I saw the handcuffs and blindfold on the bed, I thought he was going to use them on me. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I realized that he wanted me to use them on him!

  "This is something special between us that not a lot of people understand," he told me with his brown eyes, looking just like a puppy. And, I suppose back in the early 80s, things like bondage were not something people discussed a lot. It was pretty much kept underground, and not talked about. "Please tie me up, and then whip me with that leather belt," he pleaded, more puppy dog than ever.


  At first, it angered me to see a grown man groveling but, when I realized he was serious, I didn't think that I could go through with it.

  "I can't hurt you, Martin. I wouldn't know where to start."

  "Well then, you don't love me, do you? Don't you think that hurts me every day?" he asked, with his eyes now looking sad. "I would far rather have a physical kind of pain than the mental torture you put me through each and every day."

  And, then I became angry. He always said that, as long as we were together, it didn't matter what my feelings were so now I felt as if he had lied to me. I didn't know then though that it was his way of getting me angry and he was hoping I would retaliate. Boy, did I retaliate! I tied him up, and took great pleasure in whipping his ass until it was criss-crossed with red lines. I then flopped on the bed, both physically and mentally exhausted.

  Every week after that, Martin would push my buttons until I found myself initiating the bondage sessions as I had begun to enjoy them just as much as he did. Once BDSM became more 'user-friendly,' we joined a club where we could watch other couples enjoying the same kind of things that we like to do. We still go there once a month. My 'services' as a Dominatrix have become renowned throughout the club and there is often a queue of people wanting to watch me put Martin through his paces.

  And me? 'Two out of three' still does it for me and, while I may not love Martin, I know that we belong together, and will stay that way. After all, who else would pierce his balls with high heels, and then make another man kiss them better for him? And for Martin? He loves me, and always has. The fact that he knows I don't love him back makes him try even harder to please me. That serves both our needs very well.

  Librarians are NOT Boring!

  by Cherie