The Worst Session Ever

     I almost wasn’t going to write about this because it’s so embarrassing, but I think it’s worth sharing because it’s important.  Consider it a cautionary tale.  

     I had one of the worst sessions in my career the other day, and it happened because the MISTRESS blew it.  Blew it in spectacular fashion.  

     She didn’t just blow it–“blowing it” suggests that it happened accidentally, despite one’s best intentions.  She DID IT ALL WRONG, and I’m the one that “blew it.”  

      The client is the one who paid the price.  He paid in several ways.

      Ironically, if you told me beforehand that this session would go all wrong, I wouldn’t have believed you.  I would have thought that it would be impossible to fuck this session up.  It was supposed to be a simple, fun session–a blast, really!  

     This guy came into the Studio and hired myself and two other dommes.  He wanted to live out a very old, cherished fantasy: when he was 13, he said, he’d been caught setting off fireworks with his friends against his parents’ permission.  His fantasy was to be corrected and disciplined with a spanking by a maternal figure and her two adult sisters.  He wanted to be spanked to the point of tears.  He wanted to be made to cry.  He said that he was a fairly experienced Switch, so he knew what he was getting in for.  

     That’s it.  Roleplay and straightforward domestic discipline.  What could go wrong? I’m telling you, I was delighted when I booked this session.  I knew that I could do it well, and it sounded like a lot of fun for everyone!

       And did I mention that this man was a really cute, standup guy?  He was!  He was about 40, blonde, and boyishly good-looking.  He was wearing khakis and a nice white shirt with button-down collar and a beautiful sky blue merino wool sweater.  A smallish guy.  Well-proportioned.  Adorable!  And best of all, he was thrilled to be there!  He was a little nervous, but also very happy and enthusiastic.  It was a very special occasion for him, he said–he was visiting from out of town and had allotted money just for this occasion, and his wife was away for two weeks, so he would have time to heal from the inevitable bruising. 

      He hired myself, an inexperienced young black-haired girl named “Susan,” and another domme named…let’s call her “Audrey.”  

       I knew that Susan was a good egg–she’s a lifestyle submissive who’s still learning.  Sweet personality, and all of the lights are on upstairs.

      I couldn’t say the same of Audrey.  I’d never worked with her before because she usually works the night shift, but she struck me as pushy and impatient.  And she had tattoos on her arms that looked like very poor decisions.  

     We had a little powwow in the back while we were getting dressed.  

     “Okay, who’s going to run this thing?  Who’s going to be the mom?”  I asked.  Because that’s usually the best way to do sessions with multiple mistresses, I’ve found–one person leads and the others support and enhance it.  

       Audrey said that she would be the Mom. 

       I foolishly agreed to this.  I really regret my decision.  I just assumed that she would be competent because she was experienced (or so she said.  But really, how experienced could she be, at her age? stupid, stupid, stupid!). 

       I started to become concerned about her right away, when the three of us were consulting the client prior to session.  We were going over what he wanted.  He knew exactly what he wanted, and he was explaining it to us.  I was taking it in and making mental notes.  

      Audrey kept interrupting him.   She wasn’t paying attention

       This is simply unprofessional.  If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a hundred times: clients complain that the session wasn’t a success because the client didn’t get what he wanted, even though he expressed it beforehand in no uncertain terms.  

      We got through the interview and decided to begin.

      Audrey yelled at him to get undressed.  He immediately looked startled and concerned, and I don’t blame him.  This wasn’t according to plan.  Parents don’t ask their kids to strip down naked to receive discipline.  What the heck was she thinking?

      “Um, could you pull my trousers down, please?”  He asked.

      Audrey gave a big impatient sigh and said that she didn’t undress clients. 

      (While I understand her preference, I felt that this man’s request was perfectly reasonable.  His grooming and hygiene were impeccable and he clearly wasn’t a cop.  What was the problem?)

      I immediately decided that this was off to a bad start, so I stepped in and took control.   I really wish I’d maintained it. 

       I walked right up to him and got in his face.  I gave him my newly patented owl stare.  In my heels, I was a few inches taller than him.  He had to turn his face up a little to see me.  

      “I just got off the phone with Jimmy’s mother,” I said, in my coldest, sternest voice.  I didn’t turn up the volume–I lowered it, actually.  I am not an angry, shouting type of domme.  I don’t think one should have to raise their voice in order to command attention. Besides, cold and calm in scarier.  “Do you know why she was calling me?”

        It had the desired effect.  I had his full attention.  I saw him swallow and then he said, “Um, no.”

       “Oh, really?  You have no idea why she called me, hmm?”

      He shook his head.

       “I know you’re lying to me, and you’re only making it worse!  She caught the two of you setting off firecrackers behind the house.  What do you have to say for yourself?”

       “I’m sorry!” he squeaked.

        “Oh, you will be.  You will be very sorry.  What did we tell you about playing with firecrackers?  Speak up, young man!”

         “You told me not to do it!” he looked scared.  This was going well.  

         “Do you know what would happen to us if you caught the brush on fire?  It’s the middle of summer.  It’s a tinderbox back there!  Don’t you realize that we would be legally liable if you caught the neighbor’s house on fire?  Or ours?  Or, God forbid, if one of those firecrackers took Jimmy’s eye out?  If one of you ended up in the hospital?  I’m so ashamed of you!  How could you be so irresponsible?” 

       “I’m sorry,” he repeated.  He really looked miserable.  Ha!

        “We are going to have to teach you a lesson, young man.  You are never going to play with firecrackers again.  You know, I cannot believe that we are going to have to do this to you at your age.  Having to spank a big boy like you!  You should be embarrassed.”

          Then I reached out, unbuttoned his pants, and roughly yanked them down.

           And then, unwisely, I turned him back over to Audrey.

           “Go to your mother!”  I said, and pointed to her.

            The scene was set!  We were back on track!  Things were going great!  How could she mess it up?

            Well, she did.

             Audrey sat down in a chair.  “Come here!  Over my lap!”

             Inwardly, I groaned.  The couch!  He asked for the couch!

             I looked at her, over his back, and gestured towards the couch.  

               She ignored me.

               He came out of it–broke the spell, dammit–and meekly asked, “Do you mind if we use the couch?”

              She rolled her eyes dramatically.  A big sigh.  Because yeah, it was such an imposition on her to paddle this guy over the couch as opposed to the chair.  

              She moved to the couch and got him into position.  I held his hands down and crouched so that I could look into his eyes.  I did that so that I could check in with him and also continue to lecture him while he took his punishment.  

              I wish I hadn’t done that.  I wish I would have stood standing.  

            So that I could see, and not just hear, what Audrey was doing.

             Sounded like she was hitting him pretty hard.  Definitely not much of a warm-up.  He was trying to be stoical about it, but after a few minutes he started to moan and make little yelps.  His face was red and he looked like he was in a lot of pain.  I had no idea whether that was typical for him, though.  He was also cringing and bracing his body a lot.  

          I got his attention.  “Hey.  Are you okay?”

          “I guess so,” he gasped.

           The sound of the spanking changed.  What the fuck was she doing up there? 

           He yelled.  A real loud yell this time.

           I popped my head up to take a look.

          What do I see, but this smiling, cheerful IDIOT beating the bejesus out of his ass with a heavy wooden paddle.  Yup!  Just whaling away!  Hitting the same place, over and over again! 

           I tried to get her attention.  When she saw me, I gestured to her to lighten up.  Slow the hell down, woman.  I also pointed at his ass.  She’d pulled his boxers up halfway.  She couldn’t see what she was doing. 

           She just kept going, like she didn’t understand what I was asking.  

         I looked at Susan.  Susan was holding his feet down.  She looked scared.

         “Audrey,” I said.

         The client screamed again.  Poor guy.  

         “You guys suck!” I heard him hiss.  

         Yup.  A client just told us that we suck.  And I could tell that he was not saying this just to provoke a reaction.  I could tell that he really meant it. 

         I finally did what I should have done the minute I popped my head up and saw what she was doing:  I reached out and physically stayed her hand.

       “Audrey.  Stop it.  Back off.”

       “What?  What’s up?” she smiled at me, like she had no idea what was wrong.

        She didn’t know.  She was really that stupid.

        “Let me do it,” I said.

       She shrugged.  “Okay!”

       He got up.  He did not look happy. 

       “Are you okay?” I asked him.

       “I guess,” he said.  He looked a little pissed off, actually.  If he wasn’t such a nice guy, he would have probably punched her in the face.  That’s usually what men do when they’re being physically assaulted

         “Audrey, why did you pull his boxers up?  You couldn’t see what you were doing.”

         “I didn’t want him to get his disgusting cock on me!” she laughed.  

         That pissed me off.  “I’m sure his penis is not disgusting, Audrey, and if it bothered you, you could just put down a barrier.” 

        Nothing about this nice man was disgusting.  What was with the insults?

        “Do you want to continue?” I asked him.

         I could see him debating.  Then he nodded and said, “Okay.  With you.”  

           I got him into position and pulled down his boxers.

          There was nothing for me to work with.  His butt was hamburger.  I mean deep red bruising.  The skin was hot to the touch and I could feel it swelling under my hand. 

           He hired us for an hour, and this stupid, inconsiderate, incompetent bitch had turned his ass to toast at fifteen minutes into the session.  She did that much damage in less than five minutes. 

        I did the best I could and hit him much more lightly on the sides and the bottom where it wasn’t as bad.  I resumed the narrative, trying to get back into the fantasy.  

         Alas, it was no use.  He was simply in too much pain to enjoy it.  It was all too much, way too fast, and he was emotionally upset. And I don’t blame him one bit.

          After five minutes, he said, “I think I’m done.”

        Twenty minutes into the session.  Twenty minutes!

        “Audrey, would you please get the gentleman a glass of water?”  I had to get her out of the room.

         When she left, I said to him, “I’m very sorry.  That is absolutely not the way that I would have conducted the beating.  I didn’t see what she was doing at first.”

        “Yeah.  I wouldn’t have done it that way, either,” he said.

         I was mortified.  Just mortified. 

         “Would you like to do something fun for the rest of the time?” I asked.  I mean, he paid for the time.

          “I don’t know.  Like what?”

          He was looking at Susan.  I could tell, during the consultation, that he was most sexually attracted to her.  He really liked her.

          A little lightbulb went off in my head.  Inspiration!

          “Want to watch me spank Susan?”  Dudes love that girl-on-girl shit.  

         He brightened.  Thank God.  “That could be sexy!”

         I hate that girl-on-girl shit, but what the hell.  Cut me a slice of that giggly, sexy, girly cheesecake, sir!  Extra-large, please!

          So we did that.  I tried to make it playful and sexy, like Susan and I were actually girlfriends.  She was a very, very naughty girl.  Blah blah.  Always coming late to class!  Wearing skirts that were too short!  

         He really seemed to be enjoying watching us, which was a relief.  At I’d managed to salvage some of the session for him. 

        “What about you?  Could she do it to you?” he asked, hopefully.

         “Absolutely!  Do you want to take turns with her?”

          So we did that.

         “This is really hot!” he said.


         She saw him spanking me over his knee–he was being very gentle and fun with it–and said, “I hope you know that it costs extra if the mistress is submissive to you.”

         I groaned inside.

         “Don’t worry about it, Audrey,” I said.

         “It’s the Studio rules.”

          “We can talk about it when we’re done, Audrey.  That’s all.  You can go.  I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

           She left.

           The three of us goofed around some more until the time was up.

         “Thanks a lot, Miss Margo.  You really went to bat for me today.  You and Susan were great.  It should have been just you two,” he said to me.

         I told him that I was sorry that he didn’t have the experience he wanted, and I offered to refund my cut of the session fee.  I didn’t think that I deserved the money.  

         He was such a gent that he insisted I keep it. 

        So, I gave him my card and insisted that he contact me for a free session the next time he was in New York. 

         He left in a pretty decent mood, but I know that there was no way that he went back to his hotel room than night and had a good feeling about that session.  If I was him, I’d feel violated and ripped off.  And very, very disappointed.  

         Susan and I cleaned the room.  Then I went to talk to Audrey.

        She saw me and said, incredibly: “That was fun.  I had a good time.”

         “Audrey, you know that you basically assaulted that man, right?   That session was a train wreck.” 

         She looked at me blankly. “What?  He said that he wanted to be hit until he cried.”

         “Audrey, his ass was toast in five minutes.  That wasn’t what he wanted.”

         “He said no safeword!”

          She didn’t get it.  Unbelievable!  How can she be so STUPID?

        Worst session ever.  EVER.

         If any of my readers sees prodommes in NYC, you can email me and I’ll give you her information, so that you can STEER CLEAR of her.  I was appalled!  Appalled at her behavior!  She’s dangerous!

          I am also disappointed in myself, for letting it happen.  NEVER AGAIN.

3 thoughts on “The Worst Session Ever”

  1. Wow. Kudos for you for salvaging what you can. I learned fast that some Dommes are as intuitive and skilled as others are daft and oblivious. Good thing that the guy was a good sport and you were able to salvage what you could of it.

  2. I’ve participated in sessions where the Mistress was bored and ignored my requests, so it was a real pleasure to read your post. I have been following your blog for several months, I love it , I usually read it in the am with my coffee , you have had a rough time of late, but you are witty and fun. please keep writing I for one look forward to your posts!

  3. Thank you for your kind words of support, Aarkey.

    I really hope that this awful session didn’t turn the client off from seeking out his fantasy again at a later date…though I know that, if I were him, I’d NEVER come back to my Studio and I’d probably trash-talk it on the internet, as well.

    FWIW, though I do my best to stay out of ALL dungeon-drama, I decided that I had an obligation to report Audrey to the management. Besides providing a piss-poor level of service (and I do believe that prodommes are in a service industry, though others may disagree), I think that her ineptitude is a danger to the clients who trust us with their physical and mental well-being.

    I went to management and explained what happened and also told them that I would NEVER work with her again. I also put it in terms they’d take seriously–that she ruined an $800 session and the client would never come back.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.