How did you become a Dominatrix? That’s a question I get asked a lot and one I am happy to answer and one I also ask other Dommes. Most Mistresses usually have a cool story about how they got started. When I look back it seems it was a natural progression that was always gonna happen. I’m so glad it did. Femdom lifestyle has given me freedom, luxury, fun and is what I do best.
I started in the pre internet era when BDSM and Kink were still pretty underground and taboo. Those days when I confided what I did, only my gay friends would find it it fabulous, others would be scandalised and occasionally disgusted. I understand this, because I too was pretty shocked when I found out a family member was a Dominatrix. I was very young and it was whilst snooping I discovered this. Snooping was one of my passions until I started having sex.
So, yes I was shocked but equally I was fascinated. This was the filthiest smut imaginable. It wasn’t a dungeon in the cellar or anything like that, just a case on top of a wardrobe. A case stuffed with toys, equipment, BDSM contact magazines and lots of letters. Terrible sordid captivating correspondence from perverts. I read them all and snuck back to check for any new mail that had been added to the pile and to try make sense of it all. Why would men want all this weird stuff? The sick mucky bastards. Of course at that tender age, I couldn’t imagine that one day I’d be a part of this bizarre community
At school like many other Dommes, I rejected authority, especially from males, I knew deep down they were weak and pathetic. ” She won’t be told! ” was a constant criticism. I started testing out and exercising my Alpha Feminine Power. I was constantly getting into fights, girls as well as boys and aged 10 I’d kicked my first pair of testicles resulting in my classmate knees buckling as he crumpled to the floor. I also received corporal punishment from my class teacher Mr Manning. I refused to cry like the other girls. I knew he wanted to break me and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I keep thinking I should pay him a visit soon before he retires.
As soon as I started dating I started slapping. My first boyfriend was gorgeous but the fact he had a job and a car was equally important so he could drive me and my friends to and from school. My first chauffeur. In return I became the biggest cock tease, driving him to desperation. I had discovered the Joy of Tease and Denial whilst still a Virgin. My kinky side was emerging . Later on I got into Roleplay, dressing up as a Nurse, Teacher, Schoolgirl or Police Woman and acting out kinky little scenarios. We didn’t call it Roleplay then, it was simply called dress up.
Shortly after l dropped out of school and became a glamour model. Yes I took my clothes off and made love to the camera. It was too much fun, we were young, wild and gorgeous shooting in cool cities and exotic locations. Then I discovered Bob Carlos Clarke and demanded to do fetish shoots. Soon I was invited to my first fetish club at Madame Jo Jos In Soho. A photographer lent me a Latex dress. Men were begging to worship my teenage feet. I loved the attention and the power. The writing was on the wall.
That was London but my reign started a little later in Hong Kong. I was travelling through Asia and fell in love with Hong Kong the night I arrived. I adored everything about it, I still love it and see it as my second home. The perfect blend of Occidental and Oriental. A British colony that developed into a sophisticated city which was booming back in the 90’s. It just seemed like everyone was rich. I wanted to stay but how was I to fund my extravagant party girl lifestyle? The answer was found in the dodgy places I frequented til the early hours. Hong kong nightlife was full of triads, riffraff, reprobates and dealers of all sorts commodities as well as working girls were who were raking it in when Hong kong was the prosperous gateway to China. I loved partying with these ladies. The lifestyle suited me. They asked me if I wanted to work with them. I wanted in but didn’t fancy the sex much. I kept toying with the idea of being a Dominatrix. Could I succeed ? I decided to test the water and place an ad in the free paper, The Hong Kong magazine. I named Myself after a vicious bitch I knew, My friends Dog who was a bit of a man hater. The magazine came out and the phone instantly started ringing. Who would have guessed there were so many desperate men craving for Mistress Kelly to come and sort them out. There was only one little problem… I didn’t really know what to do. I was bossy and kinky but just how did you walk into a room and start a session. I decided to wing it. This isn’t as risky it sounds, I wasn’t attempting suspension, complicated Shi bari bondage, medical play or whipping the hell out of someone. I didn’t even own a strap on. It was just kink really rather than hardcore BDSM. Sessions were mainly foot worship, slapping, spanking, golden showers, ball busting, tie and tease, tease and denial and of course roleplaying. Stuff that came naturally to me. The reign of Mistress Kelly had began. I was the first Domme in Hong kong and the only Domme in Hong kong so all the kinksters and subs were under my jurisdiction. The whole city all to Myself. Mine. Mine, Mine. I was rich and powerful. The Fetish Queen of Hong kong and in my element. I loved my new life, being introduced to new fetishes and all the different types of deviance. Peeing and spitting on men, wrestling them to the floor, electrocuting testicles, dressing them up and trampling them down, every week I learned something new. It was an amazing, exhilarating time, an education and so much fun. I was naughty though. New Dominatrices are sometimes like new vampires and run amok with their recently discovered powers, before they simmer down and realise sometimes less is more. I was no different, a few heads were shoved down toilets. It took me a few months before I calmed down and learned whispering is more effective than shouting, a promise can be more powerful than a threat and more importantly being a Dominatrix is much more psychological than physical. I also realised I needed to buy some equipment and become skilled in the Dark Arts. I decided the place to go for this was New York Fucking City.
I checked into the notorious Chelsea Hotel, where Sid Vicious killed Nancy and where many scenes for Madonnas Sex Book were shot. This was pre gentrification New York. The the “Old New York” that everyone reminisces about. Chelsea was still a dodgy area, occupied by musicians, artists, sex workers, drug dealers and other dodgy characters. It was a perfect base for me on my quest for kink, filth and perversion
I found myself at a bar named Hoggs and Heffers in the meat packing district. Back then, the area was raw transsexual streetwalker turf but the bar was generic. Crowded with wasted college kids downing shots and girls dancing on the bar in the bras. I wandered outside and saw a seedy looking joint next door. It seemed a lot more intriguing. I ventured down the stairs and knew this was more like it. As luck would have it I had stumbled on the the infamous Hellfire club. It was a sleazy looking place with all sorts of filthy fuckery going on. A decent or sensible girl would have walked away but I wanted to immerse myself in the gritty underbelly of the city, the more sordid the better. I looked around. It certainly wasn’t like the fetish parties I had been to in London an the slaves were a world apart from the stereotypical subs I’d met in Hong kong. Privileged white males, my usual clients were bankers and pilots. Here there were all types of nationalities and they were from all walks of life. It’s a myth that only rich powerful guys like to be Dominated, maybe they’re just the ones who can afford to session more often.
The presence of a young British Domme in the house was certainly appreciated. My feet were in great demand to be worshipped. I dislike people touching me generally, I’m definitely not a hugger. But my feet are slutty and let anyone caress them. The last foot boy was a gorgeous young Hispanic kid. He took my hand and led me to a chair he had placed in the middle of the room. He had an amazingly sensual technique. I was becoming aroused as the foot worshiping became more and more erotic. Fuck…. he was using more than his hands to worship them. Other men gathered round to watch whilst stroking themselves. Gulp! What had I got myself into? It was like something out of a film. I managed to stay cool, pulling nonchalantly on a cigarette. The kid came, yeah that really happened. Straight after I decided to leave on a high before I got into even more trouble. I went to get breakfast with a young gay guy I’d been chatting with. We took a cab to a 1950s diner in the lower east side. As we sat there giggling about the night, loads of stretch limousines started pulling up and guys in tuxedos and girls in ball gowns sashayed in. It was prom night. The youth and innocence of these students was the perfect juxtaposition against the depravity I had just witnessed and been a part of. A perfect end to a crazy sick night in New York City.
The next night I went to Paddles, a club with a dungeon in it, that’s where I met Cliff, a Hells Angel and fetish photographer who also ran the night shift at a dungeon called The Nutcracker suite. We ended up partying the night away in Alphabet city then going back to his Chinatown Apartment for a shoot on his rooftop with the Twin Towers in the background. He had loads of costumes and equipment and I wore a latex nurses outfit, PVC thigh boots and a massive strap on. Iconic. Damn! wish I had those photos now.
Cliffs was into medical fetish and in the morning he taught me a couple of procedures, one was scrotum infusion, which I have never done since and the other was catheterisation. This I loved so we went to a surgical supplies store to stock up on catheters for me to take back to Hong kong. Then I headed to Purple Passion where I bought PVC Boots and and leant they held Bondage classes there. Fetish shops were at the heart of the Fetish community pre internet, it’s where you would head to pick ip flyers for the fetish clubs.
Then I headed to The East Village to The Baroness Latex Boutique. A client I had met in Hong kong knew The Baroness and was meeting me there to introduce me to her and buy me lots of her gorgeous latex. The Baroness is a legend. Total Fetish Royalty. One of NYC’s finest Dommes and a Designer who wears her own creations 24/7. She comes across as delightful and charming until you see her whipping a victim, then she is ruthless, relentless and blood thirsty. I chose a red latex riding jacket and a matching full length hobble skirt. Baroness decided I was fun and invited to a private fetish party with her the next night. There, I watched her in full force as she expertly demonstrated how to use a single tail whip. I was thrilled to be learning from NYC’s finest, my quest to buy equipment and learn new skills was working out better than I could have ever imagined.
The Baroness also suggested I contact a dungeon called Ball and Chains. Mistress Aphrodite was the Head Mistress there. We instantly clicked and I ended up popping in often to hang out. I loved the vibe of the place, there were two or three house Dommes in at all times and others popping in to session. I loved being around the other Dominatrices. Remember apart from the family member I had never met another Mistress. I mainly hung out with escorts in Hong kong. I love all sex workers but Dommes are my favourite and the most fascinating to me. Even now after all these years I still get Domme crushes. I don’t want do any thing sexual with them, just hang out with them absorbing their powerful magnetic energy and chat about our bizarre lives. The Mistresses at Ball and Chains were a really cool crowd, many had other interesting careers as well as being Dommes. Hanging out there and swapping stories, doing my first double session and going out partying with them, I realised I really had found my true vocation, being a Dominatrix wasn’t just something I would do whilst in Hong Kong. It’s what I was meant to do. It was my lifestyle and it was my calling.
