How I Found My Métier

When I was in college, my mother wanted me to focus on my studies, so I wasn't allowed to work during the school year. Unfortunately, a 19-year-old girl interested in making sure she looked like she walked out of a magazine, and in being seen in the wrong places, and in taking weekend trips to Manhattan or the shore, and in partying couldn't live on a meager allowance her mother assigned her. A secret job was what this girl needed. Nothing that would take too many hours, and something that would net her maximum dollars, preferably cash, in a short period of time.

If you haven't already surmised, that girl was me, and I shall tell you about my secret job when I was a student, as a Mistress-in-training.

Dancing immediately came to mind. But, you see, dancing wasn't anonymous enough, because I was attending Princeton and my parents lived in the Princeton area. My girlfriend Sandra, who was going to school in Philly and working at a dungeon, suggested that I get into domination. Easy cash, she claimed. So I drove down to Philly and checked out the dungeon where Sandra worked, but I didn't want to sit around in a cheesy lounge waiting for guys to walk in and decide which girl they wanted to have dominate them.

When I mentioned this to Sandra, she laughed and admitted it's a lot of waiting around—but you can study, she said, while you're waiting! I knew she was trying to sell me on joining the dungeon; she even confessed to a $100 bonus if she recruited me. But I told her it just wasn't going to work for me.

About a week later, she called to tell me about another opportunity she thought I might want to check out. A Mistress Eve had stopped by the dungeon. She was friends with the Mistresses who owned the house of domination and said she was seeking a Mistress-in-training to work at her private dungeon in her home. Her practice was growing, and she definitely needed an assistant to take on some of her subbies. She lived in New Jersey and was looking for a beautiful, dominant girl to train under her. She spoke with some of the girls who happened to be there, but no one intrigued her per se. Sandra collected her business card with the thought of referring me. 

After deciding to end my poverty once and for all, I called Mistress Eve to introduce myself. I left a message on her answering machine. How regal she sounded! She didn't call me back right away, so I thought perhaps she had already found someone or wasn't interested in me. About a week later, she called my dorm room. My roommate answered. She passed me the phone and said, It's Mistress Eve??? giving me a quizzical look. I was invited to her home to discuss her apprentice position over coffee.

I wondered what I should wear to such a meeting and consulted with Sandra. Black, wear black, definitely, she advised. So I wore a black turtleneck sweater, black suede skirt, black stockings, and black leather boots. I arrived at Mistress Eve's house a few minutes early, not daring to be a minute late. Darling, she said as she opened the door, do come in. You must be the lovely Pamela. . . . Mistress Eve I judged to be in her late 40s, but exquisitely kept, and perhaps surgically enhanced. She had long auburn hair and wore a charcoal-gray pencil skirt and a plunging burgundy sweater that displayed ample cleavage.

What do you think domination is? she asked. And don't suppose I'm not aware that your friend probably prepped you for this interview. —I laughed. I confessed that I really didn't know much about domination in the classic BDSM sense, but that I had grown up in a household where my mother had always been superior and that my mother's mother had also so ruled over her household. —Female supremacy? she inquired. Oh yes, I said. My mother never cooked or cleaned; either we had household help, or my father had to take care of such menial things. My mother was free to pursue her career, and my father bowed to her every whim.

Do you believe that is the way the world should be? she asked. Absolutely, I replied, which earned an approving nod. I think I've actually had slaves, I added. Well, if you're not sure, you probably haven't, Mistress Eve admonished.

I continued: I mean, I had boyfriends when I was in high school, and have one now, but on top of that, there were also these other boys who were constantly hovering around. These boys would just want to do things for me, to be around me, and I just got annoyed with them mostly, but then I decided to give them things to do for me.

She leaned forward and seemed intensely interested in what I was saying. What things did you have them do? Oh, buy me things that I wanted, take me shopping. And then there was Mr. B. —Mr. B.? Well, I used to baby-sit for Mr. and Mrs. B., and Mr. B. would always overpay me. Although I informed him of this, he said that it didn't matter, that I was a Goddess. Then he asked if he could pay me for my used panties. And he did for a while, $40 per pair. Then I upped it to $50 and kept increasing it by $10 every pair, until he was paying $200 per pair. He still buys a pair a month and will give me another $100 if he can kiss and lick my feet.

That rate is way too low for foot worship, Mistress Eve stated. Hmm? I queried. Pamela, let me clarify: you have had slaves, and you probably have slaves right now; you simply need direction as to taking complete control of them. Would you like to join me as a Mistress-in-training? You are one of the most naturally dominant girls I've ever encountered—and you don't even know it! A diamond in the rough! I would be very excited to be able to take you under my wing.

And so my journey into becoming a Mistress began at 19. Even before then, actually, but as you can tell, I was hardly focusing my dominant nature fully on those I could have enslaved at 16. If you'd like to learn more about me, perhaps you can join me in a consultation. I also conduct e-mail training sessions for pets too busy or without the privacy to call.


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