The following four events represents a three days of work in the life of Victoria Grayson, an unlicensed, self proclaimed sex therapist and atypical Dominant. Her clients consist primarily of wealthy housewives, mothers, and high placed businesswomen.

Fees for her services are mixed, but expensive: $500 to $800 for an hourly session or $2,000 to $3000 per day. Additional charges could be imposed for the more bizarre fantasies and fetishes. Clients are also responsible for all expenses...

PROFILE: Victoria Grayson, FemDom

Age... 25

Status ... Single

Heigh... 5 ft, 10 in

Hair ... Amber

Eyes ... Blue

Meas... 34D-26-34

Education ... Masters in Human

... Behavior

Activities ... Volleyball ... Opera ... Travel

Enjoyment ... Fine Wine ... Dining

Victoria's clients have no known lesbian experiences apart from their sessions with her. Outside of their sessions, they appear normal in every way. Only their wealth sets them apart...

These events are written in the first person to reveal Victoria's perspective, her thoughts, diagnoses, actions and opinions.

INTERVIEW WITH A FEMDOM transcribed by little miss blair

Typically, my clients are interviewed two weeks prior to our first session. I try to gain some insight into their needs and wants ... recording some of their personal data ... age, etc.

Elizabeth Alston ... PATIENT FOR SIX ... MONTHS

Age... 35

Occup ... Housewife ... Mother

Child ... Daughter 10 yrs old

Marital ... Husband David, CEO

Education ... BA Degree from Univ of ... Penn ... College

Other ... Cheerleader ... Runner-up, ... Miss Pennsylvania. Above ... ave. Tennis player and golfer.

NOTES Admitted to being rape as a young girl by two women in a dirty bathroom at a large Dept Store. Also admits to having an orgasm during rape.

Responds positive to humiliation. Does not pose a danger to younger girls but may respond to their aggression.

SESSION, MARCH 2nd, 2009... 10:00 PM...

As I walked down the darkened alley I could feel the broken glass crunching under my feet. A cat, screeching, piercing my ears, a rat scurrying by, brushing my leg. Only another fifty feet to my destination, the darkest spot in the slimy alley connecting two scum filled streets.

I turned to make sure Mrs Alston, the beautiful socialite, was still behind me. She was there, her eyes filled with fright, her heavy breathing a result of her intense fear and excitement.

Reaching the darkened spot, my work place for this client, I turned and leaned against the dirty brick wall. The only illumination, a street light two blocks away, gave off just enough to give Mrs Alston a vision of my sensual body.

"Get on your knees," I hissed at her. "This is where whores like you do your thing isn't it. Come on you filthy bitch ... show me how much you want my pussy. Get down here on your knees ... I have something wet and nasty for you."

She quickly whipped off her expensive mink coat, placing it at my feet. It would never be worn again, the silk lining soaking up spilled wines, beer, cat shit and blood.

As she knelt on the soft furry coat, I lewdly spread my legs, listening for her cat-like purr as she caressed my thighs with her soft, warm cheek.

"All you can smell in this filthy place is my pussy, isn't that right, Mrs Alston." Think back ... do you remember why you're a cunt sniffer? Yes, that's right ... the department store of your youth. God, I love making cunts like you eat my pussy ... sort of like raping a young girl. You were a young girl, weren't you Mrs Alston? Now you're a filthy, dirty, cum sucking whore."

Her body shuddered from the humiliation. She would relive her past ... convince herself I was raping her ... that her pleasure was not her fault ... that she was compelled to obey me ... to caress my legs with her warm breath, to please me by licking the creamy bare flesh just above my thigh highs nylons.

Her lips tentatively, gently caressed the crotch of my panties, gasping at their wetness, their aroma. She was fast becoming mindless to her surroundings, her body driven with uninhibited lust.

"Yesssss, bitch," I hissed when her long, thick tongue boldly licked the crease of my panty covered slit. I immediately pulled my panties aside, giving her access to my moist, ripe cunt. She didn't hesitate, her slurping befitting a child with a melting ice cream cone.

Her experienced tongue soon had me on the verge of eruption. My fingers entangled in her neatly groomed hair, pulling her face tightly to my crotch. My hips slammed my cunt harshly against her mouth as I rode out my orgasm, my body convulsing, excreting the cum juices she so hungerly yearned for. She was my whore, seeking the shame and humiliation that sexually aroused her ... that her fantasy dictated, that her body responded to.

Basking in the aftermath of my body's ebbing orgasm, pleasant, but sharp, quick spasms during my afterglow ... I eventually regained control of my body. I was working, I needed to service my client. She wanted to be treated like a dirty whore, with all of the pitfalls and dangers. I would oblige. I pushed her away from me, down on to her back. She was lying on the pavement of the filthy, scum ridden alley, her eyes looking up at me for absolution.

"Go ahead you filthy bitch whore, fuck yourself, play with that dirty pussy of yours ... make yourself cum. Fill those expensive silk panties."

She needed no more urging. Her fingers quickly plunging under her expensive silky panties, deep into her wet, squeaky clean gash. I straightened my clothes and walked away as her writhing body approached an eruption, leaving her slithering in the dark, stink slime of the city.

As I reached the street from the alley I heard her ear piercing wail as the first of of several orgasms exploded from within her tortured body.

Starting my car, I sincerely hoped she would make it home safely. I knew she would lie back there for at least another hour, too weak and tired, and most of all, to ashamed to move. I also knew she would get up and leave out of shear will, the fantasy of her self loathing would fade, the reality of her surroundings would suddenly become real to her.

After leaving Mrs Alston in the dirty alley, I made a mental note to call her in the morning to make sure she arrived home safely. She was a valued client. Leaving her there alone was the ultimate humiliation ... she counted on it.

Back at my apartment I immediately removed the cheap clothing, including the shoes, tossing them in the trash. They were purchased specifically for Mrs Alston's sessions. As I drew my bath I could feel the city slime clinging to me.

I lay soaking, relaxing, sipping a glass of wine. As usual, I used the quiet time to prepare myself for the following day appointments. I also took note of my cash accumulation, making a decision whether it was large enough to call my broker. "You have to keep your money working so that one day you won't have to," was my financial advisor's favorite advice.

I had two appointments scheduled: 10:00 AM with Mary Rogers and her mother... 2:30 PM with Barbara Simpson.

The early appointment, Mary Rogers, was an extremely sexual woman. I could fully expect it to be exhausting ... but enjoyable.

Orgasms are one of the perks of my profession. All of my clients were an adventure into sexual situations I devised and controlled. That I also benefitted financially from their deviant behavior was a testament to my ability.

The building doorman rang me. My first appointment was right on time. Ralph, the doorman was extremely helpful to me, not only as a greeter to my clients, but occasionally, a buffer. Ralph was important and I rewarded him regularly.

PATIENT ... Mary Rogers

Age... 25

Occup ... Concert Pianist ... Unemp

Single ... No Boyfriend ... Lives ... with her Mother

Schooling ... Julliard, private tutoring

NOTES

An only child, very dependent on her mother who encourages the dependency. Mary admitted to leaving home for three months when she was 23 yrs old. Worked as a stripper for those 3 months, trying to emulate her mother who was a stripper when she was young. Fired after three month ... the environment was alien to her. Held job as long as she did because of her terrific body.

Moved back home with mother. Liked the finer things in life ... A life that only her mother's wealth could provide.

PARTICIPATING PATIENT ... Ruth Rogers ... Mary's ... Mother

Age... 45

Occup ... Widow ... Socialite

NOTES

Stripper at 21. Married a very old wealthy man who died, leaving her an extremely rich widow. Sheltered her daughter, enabling her dependence.

Strange bond between them. When she located her daughter stripping, secretly visited strip club to watch her routine. Had an instant sexual attraction to her. Has managed not to directly act on it. Uses her wealth to keep daughter at home.

Mary's Session #12...

March 2nd, 2009,,, 2:30 PM

I ushered Mary and her mother into the living room. "Would you like some coffee or tea while you wait?" I asked the mother.

I offered her refreshments every session ... she always declined. It was a game we secretly played for her daughter's benefit.

"Okay, Mary, let's go," I said as I took the daughter by the arm, steering her towards the hall. "So, how have you been, Mary. Everything fine I hope."

Once inside my private room, she moved to my favorite chair, dropping to her knees in front of it. She was anxious, as usual. I sat in front of her, crossing my legs. "Go ahead, Mary ... start with my shoes today. Your panties must be soaking, seeing the mood you're in. Have you been bad?"

"Yes, god yes," she moaned. "I've been so bad."

"Have you been having dirty thought again ... you know, about your mother?"

"Yes," she whispered. "She's so damn sexy ... but you know that. You know I'd like to do things with her ... like I do with you. I'm still your bitch, though, aren't I?"

"Yes, yes you are Mary. And a slutty whore too. That's why I fuck you ... because you're such a slutty whore."

"Oh godddddd," she moaned, licking my shoes more intently.

"Have you told your mom you've been thinking about her ... have you told her how you want to lick her smelly, sticky pussy?"

She groaned again at my descriptive suggestion. "Noooooo ... I could never say that to her. Never."

"Do you want me to invite your mother back here to watch us ... watch me fuck you up the ass ... watch you cum? I bet she'd like that, seeing my big cock buried in your asshole."

Talking about her mother excited her.

"Nooooo ... she whimpered. "Not today. Maybe someday, but not today. It's too soon. She's sneaky you know. You don't think she can hear us do you? Do you think she's outside the door listening?"

"I don't know," I said teasingly. "If she can hear us, that would excite you wouldn't it ... to think your mother is right outside the door listening. She would hear me call you what you are ... a slut whore. Hear me make you eat my cunt, my nasty, dripping pussy."

I pulled away from her and removed my blouse. My large, heavy breast fell into view. It never changed. We had carried out similar scenarios a dozen times and each time she gasped. For her it was like seeing my breast for the first time.

I dropped my skirt, allowing it to puddle around my feet. Moving back to the padded chair, I spread my legs invitingly. She quickly began licking my thighs, eventually nuzzling my panties with her nose, inhaling the odor of my sex. Her eyes glazed over as she lost herself in her fantasy.

"That's a good girl, Mary. Sniff my pussy. Take your time. I know you like smelling my cunt ... you like tasting it. Go ahead, lick me you fucking cunt. Show me how you'd eat your mom's slimy pussy."

"Yessssss, like mommy's pussy," she hissed.

I pulled my panties aside, feeling her lips seal themselves against my mound. Sliding forward on the chair, I splayed my legs wider. She was extremely skillful with her tongue and had me on the brink of an orgasm quicker than usual. As she rolled my clit between her soft warm lips, I knew my smoldering cunt was about to succumb to her ministering...

What a way to start the morning, I thought to myself, as her lips softly ravaged my clit. I loved her swirling tongue motion ... it stimulated my hips to arch upward, to fuck her tongue like a small cock. Inside my body an orgasm was building ... and it was going to be explosive ... I could tell. Mary was doing a hell of a job on me.

I grasped her head firmly as I pounded my cunt against her hot mouth and tongue. I continued to berate her, humiliate her with descriptive names and remarks. It urged her on.

"I'm going to cum you fucking bitch ... going ... tooo ... goddamn ... I'm ... I'm ... Oh yesss ... CUMMMMIIINNNNGGGGGG."

I rarely made a sound ... today I couldn't restrain myself from screaming out in ecstasy. The flow of my cream was uncommonly thick as it dripped into her waiting mouth. The sick bitch drank it up...

After an exquisite sexual high, my body relaxed. I waited, legs still spread invitingly as she cleansed my pussy area with her tongue. She loved cleaning me this way, sometimes even licking the crack of my ass.

Mary knew the procedure. As soon as she had cleansed me thoroughly, she sprawled out on the bed. I opened the dresser drawer, retrieving my largest dildo. I knew what she preferred ... a deep fuck ... a painfully deep fuck...

As I strapped it on, Mary fingered herself, totally consumed by her unbridled lust. She spread her legs submissively, eagerly awaiting the head of the enormous cock to slip between the lips of her cunt.

I had fucked her many times with the same dildo, but it's enormous girth still caused her to wince ... stretching her gash beyond reasonable limits. Once in, however, she attacked it with fervor.

"OH GODDDDD," she screamed as I buried it up into her womb. Her legs immediately locked around my waist, holding the full length of cock inside her.

Our hips, pounding in rhythm, surely bringing her a measure of pain. But, for her, it served as an enhancement to her pleasure. Her mewing, and the eventual cries of ecstasy, was a barometer for her unlimited pleasure.

When I rolled her over she automatically raised her buttocks ... bracing herself. I always began slowly, eventually burying the rubber prick the full length up her ass.

I could see her anal ring pucker in vain. Cramming her asshole was nasty and cruel, but she loved it ... expected it ... and I was paid to meet her wants. With her own fingers clawing at her pussy, I rammed the dildo up her tight anal hole till she came or passed out ... or both.

When the session was over I made her clean her cunt and ass with her panties ... making her wear them home. She liked wallowing in fearful expectation ... fear that her mother would smell her ... the longing, the anticipation that one day her mother would punish her for being so nasty.

When we walked down the hall to the living room, her mother was gone. She was never there. And, as always, I would instruct Mary to go downstairs and wait in the car.

Once she was out the door, I quickly returned to the bedroom and retrieved the dildo. Next door, in the viewing room, I would find the mother. She always observed Mary's session through a one way mirror between the rooms common wall.

She would be stretched on the bed, legs spread, fingering herself. After watching her daughter's session, she would insist on licking the dildo clean of her daughter's cum juices and streaks of fecal matter. She never failed to bring herself to an explosive, intense orgasm.

Before leaving, she would write out the check ... one installment of the approximately twenty thousand dollars she would pay annually.

My opinion: These two women would never enter into a sexual relationship together unless I arranged it. I think they had a fear of the moral dilemma it would place them in.

They still appeared to be satisfied with the current arrangement but I expected that sometime in the future they would tire of their routine with me. That's when I would have to strongly consider bringing them together in our sessions. It would create a whole new fantasy and hopefully secure an even longer financial agreement with them.

When Barbara Simpson called for a second session with me, I was surprised. Her interview, and first session, hadn't went well ... she failed to be straight with me. Her employment, a Senior Vice President of a major Corporation, gave her a position of immense authority and she brought that domineering attitude with her. I allowed it, hoping I could gain some insight into her actual purpose for seeking me out.

In our first session she immediately took the dominate role ... ordering me to go down on her. It had been awhile since I actually serviced another female, a practice I limited to my own personal life. But I went along with it, allowing her to think she was in charge.

Even though she dressed conservatively, she had a sexy aura about her. Her body was near perfect, her cleanliness superb, and the aroma of her expensive perfume, all made her extremely alluring. I actually enjoyed having sex with her, gamely playing a role as her bitch. Her cunt was luscious and ripe ... I made her cum multiple times.

She played the dominant to the end, tossing my check onto the floor, watching smugly as I submissively retrieved it. Calling me a dirty whore, she said she would never use or require my services again.

My intuition told me, however, she was fraught with fetishes, that she craved to be humiliated, to be made to do nasty things ... things she couldn't bring herself to even utter aloud.

So, when she unexpectedly called for a second session, I invested my own time into a few hours of investigative work before drawing up a plan of action. She would, when I was through with her, be my bitch, fully bonded to me, or refuse to ever see me again.

PATIENT ... Barbara Simpson

AGE... 36

EMP ... Senior Vice Pres, ... Major Corp

MARITAL STAT ... Divorced, 1 daugh

EDU ... MBA, Purdue Univ

OTHER ... Member, Republican ... National Comm ... Major fund raiser ... for Republican Party ... Member the Right ... Wing Christian ... Coalition

NOTES

Type A personality. Very domineering, argumentative. Tries to reveal very little about herself. Hates Women's Liberation Movement. Claims they are all dykes. Dresses very business like but retains a strong hint of femininity. Personal observation ... fake modestly.

TUESDAY, MARCH 3rd, 2009 2:30 PM

When Mrs Simpson arrived I was prepared for her. From my closet of paraphernalia I had retrieved a dog collar and leash chain, waist belt with handcuffs, and a very large butt plug. I was determined to follow through with my instincts...

When I opened the door she gasped at the sight of me. I appeared in all of my FemDom splendor, thigh high leather boots, a very mini leather skirt and a sheer white see through blouse. I knew I was on the right track ... her nervousness and rapid breathing gave her away.

"Why are you wearing that get up?" she demanded belligerently. "I don't recall asking you to dress up like some kind of whorish clown."

I slapped her, slapped her hard across her face. Her eyes gaped in amazement, shocked that someone would assault her.

I took advantage of her stunned silence, quickly strapping the belt around her waist, cinching it tight. In one swift motion, I clicked the handcuffs to her wrist. It took her a few moments to realize her hands were immobilized, fixed at each side of her waist.

She pulled at the cuffs, trying to free herself. "Take these off of me immediately," she demanded. "I'm going to have you arrested you goddamn bitch. Who ... who the hell do you think you're dealing with? I knew I should have never came back here. You're nothing but a ... uh ... a common slut whore."

I slapped her again. This time tears welled up in her eyes ... signs of fear appeared on her face.

"Please," she begged, "please don't hit me anymore."

"You like my outfit now, don't you honey," I said in a mocking tone. "See how everything matches ... my boots, my skirt ... even my cock."

I slowly raised my skirt, giving her a full view of the large black dildo hanging between my legs.

She cowered away from me. "My god ... what is that ... why are you wearing that, that thing? Oh my god ... you don't think that's what I want, do you? If you do you're..."

I ignored her question, strapping the dog collar around her neck with the chained leash attached. She whimpered but didn't fight it.

I led her to a full length mirror in the hall. I was struck by the way she was dressed ... her choice of style ... knee length tweed skirt, silk blouse and chocolate brown sport coat. She epitomized elegance and grace ... from her expensively coiffured hair to her three inch high heeled pumps. As she stood before the mirror, her hands handcuffed to her side and a cheap dog collar around her neck, she acted as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of her situation. I think there was a moment of arousal ... I could tell by the exaggerated rise and fall of her ample breast.

I led her to the sofa, instructing her to kneel on the on the firm plush cushions, leaning her body forward, over the back. When I pulled her skirt up to expose her ass, she begged me not to touch her back there. Her ass was beautiful ... tight and round, the silvery silk bikini panties sucked up in her long dark crack.

"What are going to do to me?" she whimpered. This isn't what I hired you for ... I should have never come back. God, please ... please don't hurt me." Her pleading lacked conviction.

I caressed her smooth round cheeks, one finger slipping slowly down into her long dark crevice ... deeper ... deeper.

"Oh god ... don't, please don't," she begged. "Don/t touch me there, it's too dirty. This isn't what I'm paying you for. Please, I'll pay you, just let me go. Pleaseeeee stop ... why are you humiliating me like this?"

She couldn't see the greased butt plug in my hand ... but she felt it ... the head probing her anal ring ... her beautiful, super tight brown hole...

"NOOOOO," she screamed in terror when the hard rubber touched her anus. "What ... what is that? You dirty bitch ... you ... you ... oh god ... please ... why are you doing this to me? Is it the money? Please, don't ... I'm begging you."

I began feeding off of her fear. I wanted her to be frightened ... I wanted her to feel pain. I also wanted to humiliate her.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she screamed when the plug penetrated her about half way up the reversed tapered knob. Her sphincter muscles contracted, pushing the plug back out. But, when they relaxed, I pushed it further in. She sobbed deliriously from the pain in her virgin ass, I'm sure, was extreme.

I continued to work the mushroom shaped plug more vigorously. I enjoyed her agony ... aware of the relief that would come when the knob fully entered ... when her anal hole was allowed to pucker around the stem. It would be irritating, her asshole fully packed. Eventually, however, the stimulation should be pleasurable and sexualized.

"ARGGGGG ... GODDDDDD," she screamed again. I can't take it ... pleaseeee ... it hurts too much ... pleaseeeeee ... please take it out."

One last firm push ... the knob popped in. The look of pain on her face relaxed. giving her a moment of relief.

"Goddamn you," she spat out at me. "That hurt so much ... how will I ever get it out?"

I didn't answer her ... straightening her skirt and helping her to a standing position.

She took one last stab at being authoritative. "I want you to take it out ... now. I can't keep this thing in me ... it's, it's too big. Did you hear me you dirty piece of shit?"

I answered her with another stinging slap across her face. Her defiance disappeared immediately. Her tear stained face took on the look I wanted ... a submissive look ... that shameful, humiliated look. Soon her pussy would warm to it...

I pulled the leash harshly. "Come on bitch, we're going out."

She freaked out. "What ... what do you mean? Outside ... in public? Pleaseee, no ... oh god, not out in public. I can't, I just can't. Not like this. You ... you can't do this to me. You have no right to do this to me. I'm the customer. You have to do what I say. Please ... I'll do anything you want ... just don't take me out in public ... you don't know what it would do to me if anyone..."

She planted her feet on the floor defiantly. I jerked on the leash till she understood her untenable situation. She wasn't in charge anymore. Her eyes were pleading but she followed reluctantly, every few feet wiggling her ass ... the butt plug still irritating her anal hole.

Our ride down in the elevator was quiet. She shifted from one foot to the other nervously, her eyes staring at the floor.

Out of the elevator, she walked ahead of me hurriedly, seeking the privacy of my car. She appeared somewhat relieved once she was seated inside.

I knew she was traumatized ... worrying about someone recognizing her, and just as concerned about strangers on the street seeing her trussed up like a dog.

Actually, I didn't want anyone recognizing her either. Chances were, no one would. But, if a friend, colleague, or someone working for her company recognized her, especially this early in her training, she may not be able to handle it.

I headed across the city, an area I was sure her friends and acquaintances were not inclined to shop. She didn't say a word ... sobbing quietly as we drove. Every bump or lurch of the car was discomforting to her, the butt plug still irritating her asshole. Soon it would bring her pleasure ... I had seen it happen before.

As we approached a small neighborhood shopping district, she finally spoke; "We're not going to leave the car, are we? I can't go out like this ... please ... please don't make me."

I parked the car and walked to the passenger side to open the door for her.

"Lets go, bitch," I ordered as I pulled firmly on the chain.

She practically fell out of the car, her eyes furtively glancing from left to right, still afraid of being recognized.

We walked a full block, everyone staring and sneering at us. But I knew we were just another pair of curious oddities of the city. In her mind, however, I was sure the humiliation was overwhelming, being paraded down the city street like some kind of sexual plaything.

My trained eye suddenly noticed a slight change in her demeanor. Just before entering our destination, a small Women's Boutique, I stopped her, watched as her body shuddered with a jolting, involuntary orgasm ... her first as a submissive. She was embarrassed, I think, by the lack of control of her own body.

I had checked the store out ahead of time. It was their closing time. The same two females worked every Tuesday ... a teen, about eighteen years old ... and a young woman, thirty or so. The real benefit ... both were attractive.

I questioned myself when I planned this charade. I had never used anyone in my sessions that weren't in my direct control. But, my sessions had become somewhat tiresome ... unimaginative. This would add a little spice ... not only for my client, but for me as well.

Reaching in my bra, I pulled out two one hundred dollar bills. The teenage clerk approached us very tentatively ... not sure what we were all about. I couldn't blame her ... Mrs Simpson and I were quite a sight.

"Uh ... can I ... uh ... help you?" she stammered.

"We'll see," I said confidently. "My bitch here wants to purchase a pair of fresh, soiled panties." 6

She looked at me incredulously. "I think you ... uh ... might be in the wrong place," she mumbled. "We don't ... uh ... carry whatever it is you're looking for..."

"Oh, but you do, honey." I said. "You're wearing them. See, in my hand ... two one hundred dollars. That's what your panties are worth to my bitch here."

"You mean you want to buy ... buy my..." She glanced over at her co-worker, her eyes pleading for assistance.

The co-worker, much more city-wise, sauntered over. "Listen," she whispered to the teen, loud enough for me to hear, "it's two hundred dollar. And it would be yours, not the store owners. That's like three times what you're making part-time in a week. I'd do it if I were you. I mean, what the hell..."

The teen looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, I guess your right," she murmured. "Wow, I can't believe I'm going to do this. This is like so crazy."

She reached towards the hem of her short skirt. I stopped her.