I'm a Dominatrix

The true tale of one woman's journey into the world of bondage.
- KC Neill, BettyConfidential.com


Pencil skirt. Check.

Corset, tied tight. Check.

Black patent leather pumps. Check.

Red lips. Check.

Crop, flogger, wrist & ankle cuffs, clamps, collar with leash, cigarettes with lighter, latex gloves, antibacterial wipes, paddle, flat hair brush. Check.

iPod with my session music ready to go. Check.

The room in the dungeon I work at has been wiped down. My toys are on display, ready to be used at any time. I take one last read-through of my client's desires, which he emailed me last night, and I am ready to begin.

Read I Was a Call Girl For a Day: Part 1

I inhale deeply and close my eyes, then I hearing the knock on the door. He's on time. I open the door, "Hello Jon," I say in my sexy, raspy, yet powerful Domme voice. "You're early. You know you will be punished for not following my simple directions. Come in and let's get started."

"Yes, Mistress Kitty," he answers, looking down at the floor as he enters. As I shut and lock the door behind him, I note his time of arrival, turn up the music so there are no distractions from outside the door, have him get on all fours (his favorite position), and let the fantasy begin.

If you haven't guessed by this point, I am a dominatrix. I am a beautiful, sexy, intelligent, powerful woman who answers to no one, tells her clients "no" when she wants to and does whatever she wants when she wants with complete confidence and self-awareness, all while wearing 5 inch heels. (Just like leather corseted Michelle Obama). My job is simple: to have my client lose all control in a safe, clean, consensual, open, trusting environment where we both are allowed to become lost in the fantasy.

I earn enough cash to survive in Manhattan, and my clients like to take me shopping for clothes and shoes. They book me by finding my ad on various fetish websites. It's all done via email using aliases. Only a lucky few actually earn my telephone number. I'd tell you my domme name, but then I'd have to whip you.

My journey into this foreign, yet fascinating world of BDSM (bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism) began five years ago when a friend of mine invited me to attend a foot fetish party. When I arrived at the party, I found myself surrounded by some of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in NYC. They were mingling and flirting with men who were very powerful.; you just knew that by looking at these guys. When I found my girlfriend Diana, all I wanted to know was where we were and what was going on. I knew this wasn't your typical party, but I couldn't figure out what was going on. Without explain anything, Diana asked me to follow her. "Just watch," she said. With one look from Diana, the guy she was with immediately fell to the floor on all fours and began kissing her feet. I was speechless.

Read I Was a Call Girl For a Day: Part 2

She explained that we were at a foot fetish party. "The men are here to worship our feet and would happily pay for it," she said. "Collect $20 cash for every 10 minutes they get to spend with your feet. The only thing we're required to do is enjoy yourself and make sure the guys are doing the same." It was fun and easy. I could make extra spending money and learn something new and taboo. I was hooked. With that, my life in BDSM began.

Fast forward to today. I'm in the dungeon, with a client in front of me, ready to satisfy my every want and need without question. He is here to do whatever pleases me (why can't every man want to do nothing more than this?), which includes but isn't limited to foot worship sessions, humiliation, cross-dressing, corporal punishment, bondage and restraint, and physical domination.

The men that come to see me vary from high-powered attorneys and business execs to regular guys with non-Vanilla tastes. Sometimes their wives or girlfriends are too submissive and they're in need of a break from being "yessed" to death. That's where I come in, to tell them "No!"

And they love it. They pay good money for it. They bow down in submission and feebly say, "Yes, madame."

I love it, too.

Stay tuned for our next installment: an interview with this dominatrix!

KC Neill is a working dominatrix.

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