Dominatrix By Design Part 1

All of my life, I knew I was different. I wasn’t like the rest of the children. You know the “normal” ones. I have always been out of place in the environment I had been thrust into. I grew up in a typical small Texas town about 30 miles from the Gulf of Mexico. Not a pretty beach per say but an escape from the shithole town with nothing to do.

The funny thing about this town is that no one here is truly important nor outstanding; not nearly as much as they think they are. They are closed minded and judgmental of everything that is different from them. True ignorance among citizens is virally exhibited by their inability to actually think outside the box. A one horse town where everyone knows everyone, for it is front page news when someone takes a shit!!  There aren’t any secrets to be had.


I didn’t belong here, for I had secrets. Secrets I treasured. Some I would develop an outlet for, some I will go to my grave with and some that haunt me still today. My mind is a racing one and never stops turning. The gears are relentless.

I have always been sexual, even in childhood; I always migrated to the different and forbidden tastes. My interests are both pure and obscene. I think many people have these sides to them but never really let go and discover them, for it is a dark world, our deepest secrets, ones we die with that no one ever knows. I have grown weary of suppressing these demons. I must give them life. They must come out and breathe in. Inhaling and exhaling all that is there, all that is there to be absorbed.

Somehow, things have happened, instances, circumstances…. just plain weird shit. I wonder if it is the look in my eyes that attracts these situations? Maybe the perverts can read that or feel the vibe? Maybe it’s my own selfish pleasure that pulls me like a gravitational force to the odd and taboo? I remember touching myself because it felt good and getting in such trouble for it by my domineering mother. Oh, I frightened her and still do….. And only now do I understand why. There IS a demon or two that lives inside of me. I know them well by now. They do surprise me from time to time and I must give them credit for being so intense and powerful. They get very hungry and need to be fed accordingly, so that they are kept just satisfied enough for me to be able to control them. I must have an outlet so they can live, be heard and felt. They are important facets of who I am, of what I need and what I must do.

Yes, many devilish desires live inside me. Ones I’ve suppressed for thirty years and Ones I have tried relentlessly to wrangle into submission.  I can fight them no more. I give in to the guilty pleasures and it is exhilarating. I had found MY place,  a place where I belonged…. in a world which was uncomfortably comforting.

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Ego and The Beast

Mistress Cat
“For One to dominate in the dungeon effectively, One has to first master dominating life.”

Six years ago, I looked around and realized that things weren’t right. I was not living,  but dying. That I was stagnant.  I felt lost. I was sober but not growing or satisfied. Stale inside the status quo on every level imaginable. Dysfunction was everywhere and integrity was nowhere.

I embarked on a journey of self improvement and fairness for all. I changed little things about myself and I hungered for fulfillment. I was driven. I went back to college, started practicing everyday to change the things that I didn’t like in My life. It was scary and difficult at times, But I kept going. Slow and steady. I found some self worth and some confidence.

I also noticed that when I changed for the better, some people didn’t like that. When I changed the dynamic, I in turn changed the dysfunction in my life. And when you upset the standard way even if it is wrong, there are always a few who reject the better changes. It doesn’t even make sense but ego is as strong as the will to succeed. Change isn’t for the weak. It is for the strong. It is for people who are driven. So I won’t apologize for doing better. I won’t apologize for NOT being the piece of shit you want Me to be. I have changed only into a better version of what I was. So you criminalize Me so your ego isn’t bruised? That speaks volumes about your character, Not my own. It’s much easier to be a victim isn’t it? .

I don’t know why I was compelled to post this but there must be a reason. I don’t need to know it. ❤️

Dominatrix By Design Part 8

I turned around and saw a man walking towards me. He had dark hair with a touch of salt and pepper beginning to show. He was shorter than me but not by much. I was immediately drawn to him. My heart began to beat faster and my knees felt weak. He came up and asked what had happened. I told him I had broken the game and he smiled a warm smile and laughed. I laughed with him for no obvious reason as he grabbed his tool belt and opened the game to fix it.

His teeth impressed me, which won’t surprise anyone that knows me. Mind you, I was a dental assistant and I always looked straight at the teeth. It was something we all did in that line of work. It was a natural and involuntary reaction that occurred every time I met someone new. No one was immune from my aesthetical assessments. He passed with flying colors and that was imperative. I began to do some troubleshooting of my own with the game. I have no idea why I decided to look into the machine. I had never even been into a casino, not to mention I had never seen the inside of any game there. I had no idea how or why it broke not to mention I am clueless on how to fix one. But I saw a wire that appeared loose, so I chimed in and pointed that out. I had to laugh at myself because I could hardly believe I did that. I knew absolutely nothing about those things, but I wanted to help fix what I thought was my fault.


Mistress Cat of Houston
Mistress Cat is a Professional Dominatrix in Houston, Texas.

We talked, and I was very intrigued and attracted to him. He wasn’t my type. No one was my type for that matter. I didn’t even know what my type was at this stage in my life. I had even thought that I might be a lesbian as I drove to Louisiana with my mother that very afternoon. I had purposely avoided all men for many years. I had been a self-chosen hermit for almost a decade and I was content. Not happy but content. We connected somehow, and I found it easy to talk to him. He was a well-spoken and intelligent man. I had just met a charming and intriguing man that worked in a casino. How could that be? My small-town mentality was alive and well. Oh yes It was Alive and well, passing judgment like I was important. This man with beautiful brown eyes and an engaging kind smile was unexpectedly introduced into my life. It was as if we had known each other for years. My words came freely and for a moment I had forgotten all about my mother. She was invisible and no thoughts of her consumed me. I felt at ease with him and then he was called away to another machine and like that, he was gone. It was over. Our brief conversation had come to an end and I knew I would never see him again. I said thank you and goodbye, gave him a charming smile and he walked away. I stood there in disbelief. Was I just flirting with a stranger? A stranger that I didn’t want to leave for reasons I cannot put into words. It felt like I had just talked to an old friend. He was gone all right. He disappeared into the casino as I watched him walk away.

I was ready to leave this dirty place and the man that unexpectedly had caught me off-guard. My mother and I walked around a while and she decided to carelessly pump more of her money into a game. I had no idea how long she would want to stay in this stuffy little hole. Frustrated and ready to leave I was. I decided to walk around to kill some time to cure my boredom. I had always liked to explore, so I fed my curiosity and wanted to see other people who shared the rush of gambling just like my mother. I walked around this casino in the middle of the afternoon with curiosity, excitement and disgust. I saw people of all walks of life. All these people shared one common desire. They all wanted to win, and who doesn’t… right? A room full of losers who came together in this particular place to escape from their life for a while. While they were all there for the same thing, they were vastly different. There were the upper-class businessmen with a college aged girl on each arm playing the high stakes table. Some people who were living the good life and some clearly compensating for something. There was everybody in-between. There were Upper middleclass couples having a vacation taking a chance on a big win but mostly passing their time with some money to burn. I looked across the hugely lit up room as slot machines lined up in what seems like never-ending rows with grandmas and grandpas having a good time. Then there were the people who clearly had no money to supply their addiction and distorted realities. I felt empathy for them but not enough to matter to anyone. Lights flashed like sirens in the darkroom as I secretly wanted to see this odd, blue collared mystery man who captivated me at the loneliest and most desperate time in my life.




Dominatrix By Design Part 7

I walked away feeling both angry and guilty. I had 100 dollars in my hand and nothing to do but spend it on stupid video games that adults play; Stupid games that I didn’t want to play. I think I hated it so much because she loved it so. I walked to the first game I saw and fed the crisp bill to it, all the while hating I was there. I pushed the button like the rest of the lab rats in the smoky dirty place. Then, something happened that changed my life. I broke the machine. I seem to have that effect on many things that I touch or come into contact with. I break stuff; anything at all. I can unsuspectingly break things that aren’t even supposed to break. That really was a curse that I lived with. A long legged klutz that walked into walls sober. I had broken the damn game by simply pushing a tiny little button. Looking back, I love my curse. It is a gift, I see that very clearly now.  This game stopped working and I was going to have to interact with people which I dreaded. I looked up from the machine and I saw my mother staggering towards me with a glass of pinot grigio in her hand; sloshing all the way as she spilled it a little at a time as she sauntered over with her nose in the air. Had she forgotten where she came from? Apparently she had; she had forgotten.

I dreaded seeing her face again so soon, but alas, here she was in all her perceived glory. I told her that my machine‘s screen went black and she uttered something under her breath that reeked of wine and tooth decay. Her breath was a foul as the scowl on her face.  It was poetic justice. It was ironically beautiful. It was incredibly painful. I was alone.

I looked around for anyone to help me. I saw a woman that worked there and explained my predicament. She told me she would get someone to help me and I graciously walked back to my drunk and I waited. I waited in complete silence with her as she downed her glass of wine. I stared at her and wondered who the fuck is this lady and what did she do with the woman I knew as my mother?  My mother was never warm and loving but this bitch that sat beside me repulsed me beyond belief. I wondered how she could be so unhappy and why she would do this to herself. She was completely unaware of her surroundings and I actually felt sorry for her for a second.

Dominatrix By Design Part 6

OK, how I got introduced to this thing called BDSM……

It was August, seven and a half years ago and I was on vacation with my recently divorced mother.  she was a widowed lush who needed supervision, especially on a casino binge.  She was A 65 year old child who desperately needed a babysitter. My mother is a narcissistic borderline personality disorder full blown alcoholic who is toxic to all around her. She is Selective with her so called “love” which she openly holds for only a select few.


She loathes everything about me. I only understand it now because of the intense and honest therapy sessions I have gone to for most of My adult life. How I longed to be well and to be free of her skeletal grasps.  A cold hearted ruthless self-serving bitch, she was. During my five day babysitting adventure of a 65 year old repulsive, rich, sloppy binge drinker, I met a man there who sparked an interest in me. I never would have imagined that this would come to pass in the way that it did…


I had always made a point to steer free of casinos. I thought of them trashy as well as dirty. I had never been to one but always looked down upon them. A trait and belief that was worthy of judgment from the rearing of my mother in a small Texas town.  My Mother was already drunk at 2:30 pm on a Friday. I judged her not because I Myself  had  My struggles with substances as a young adult and once later in life.   She had always reminded me what a handful I was as a teenager and young adult but she never took any responsibility for her part in my outcome. Never missing an opportunity to throw a dig in at a family function or holiday. She really got off to it, especially if there was a crowded room of people to hear her insults. It pleasured her to have an audience; an audience to hear the woes she was forced to endure of rearing a wild child.  It was Typical for someone like her. It was always someone else’s fault. No accountability or responsibility did she ever own up to. She was never wrong. Her cold heart beat without empathy for anyone, even her own children. My sister told me of a time that she made a 99 on a calculus test. My mother looked at her a told her in a monotone voice that she could have made a 100 if she studied harder.


In a dirty smoke filled casino, I watched my mother blow a small fortune and slowly pickle herself. There was no way I was going to blow money I didn’t have so she would occasionally chunk 100s at me so I could go play and I think so I would vanish awhile and she could be without having to look at me. She hated me because I was a threat to her. She was jealous of my youth. She was never pretty but now she was old and she hated that. Somehow, I was responsible for that as well. She justified hating me so she could live with herself I assume. I walked off cowering, just like I always did when it came to her. She paid me off so I would take her abuse. And I took it. I willingly laid my self-worth in front of her so she could pick away at it; leaving nothing but an empty shell to turn her back on until she needed something from me. Oh yes, when she needed something from me she could turn on the sweetness and make me forget all about her nastiness. I longed for her love and approval. I wanted her to love me. I ached for her acceptance but she would never give it to me. She was incapable.  She was jealous of her own children.  It felt good to her to have more than me.  She equated being a good person with having money. Status was all that was important to her. She was better than everyone and that exuded in the way she looked down on everyone else. She made harsh rude comments about all that I knew and all that I was. She strongly disliked everyone that I loved and had zero problems tearing them to shreds when she had a chance to do so. She only tolerated me when she needed something from me. Otherwise, she had no use for me.  I have felt much betrayal and emptiness in my life but none like the kind that she doled out.  I was a pain unlike any other I have ever known. It was worse than my first husband’s suicide and worse than a cheating loved one. The pain was paralyzing and I always wondered what I had done that was so terrible that she couldn’t love me. Was I that bad of a person that I wasn’t worthy of even an alcoholics love? It hurt deep inside but I had grown accustom to it and I somehow felt I deserved it. Oh the guilt was a motivating factor that kept me underneath her and she knew it. She played the guilt card every time she could to keep me in check. And friends, it worked

Dominatrix By Design Part 5

I heard the news on a crisp autumn morning many years later.  He blew his brains out of his skull and onto his mother’s bedroom wall.  A final “fuck you” to the world. He showed us all.  He had always said that it was better to burn out, than to fade away.  I hated that he did that but I was secretly jealous. He could finally sleep. He would be free from Addiction and self-sabotage now.  I wanted to mirror him but I didn’t have the courage.  It was the saddest day I ever knew and still affects me today. I always thought we would find each other again; that Our paths would cross again. But that was not how it happened.

Tragedy came. It came  without warning, like a violent storm out of the darkness, and then in a moment’s notice, it was gone. Suddenly it vanished, the destruction and damage that it left was both incredulous and equally as confusing. Suicide leaves blood spattered on everyone involved. Without the bleach of detachment, it is almost impossible to clean. The stains set in and you can never wash them away.

Dominatrix By Design Part 4

0076aa_b0d968145b4c4d22ac8ecf1a74377e2a~mv2My daughter was 1 yr. old and I was living back at home. A place I swore I would never go back to again. This was the cold place that reminded me of my painful childhood that was missing all that I needed. It was full of money and materialistic things to fill the void. Full of superficial bullshit and snide comments that were hurled out at random notice. It was classical dysfunction straight from the textbooks. If there weren’t insults bouncing off these 12 foot ceilings, than we existed in complete silence. It was the intense “cold shoulder” technique. No one was immune to it and everyone was fair game.   It didn’t matter who crossed her. If she was disgruntled, we would all pay. She would ignore us all and pretend we didn’t exist. She wouldn’t even acknowledge our existence. If you asked a question, she would coldly answer with a “yes” or “no”. She offered nothing else. We were kept guessing all of the time. I held her coldness in my heart and wondered why she hated me so. What happened and why did she act like that? Oh yes, the cold shoulder coupled with mental illness was alive and well in my upscale home that my father built. The aesthetically pleasing exterior told no secrets of the hated that grew within. The cold shoulder worked for my mother but not for me. But here I was. I was back in hell with my mother and absent father. My mother and I fought constantly about how to raise my child. She was overbearing and I was broken. I was lost and cried constantly over the rejection of the one I thought I would be with forever and she thrived on that. She capitalized on my weakness and took the opportunity to degrade me any chance she had. She kicked me when I was down and she loved every minute of it. I hated where I lived, however I was going to nursing school and I would soon be done. I was fueled by rage and hate. I was going to make something of myself and show them all. A year had passed and I received many late night phone calls of a desperate man wanting his family back. I loved him still. When the phone would ring or if I would intercept the call, I could feel her presence lurking in the darkness behind me. She was always there and always listening. Never could I rest and breathe, not alone. I wanted to try again and should have. My mother forbid it and said she would no longer help with school, me or the baby if I gave him one more chance. I folded, and she won again. I moved forward and never looked back. I began ignoring his calls and I made my mind forget about him. I knew that part of my life was over and never to be revisited again.

Dominatrix By Design Part 3

I was out at 17, the day after graduation. Moved to Houston and found a job working for a dentist on the west end of town. It was a classy and respectable job that I loved. I went through school to earn the title of certified dental assistant. This paid the bills and gave me Fridays and weekends off. I was 17 and I needed no one.

I have had three marriages. Yes, three. I failed at every one of them. By the age of 32, I had been married three times and had four children. I had failed miserably and wondered how it all came to be. How could I, an upper class girl who was raised with the finer things in life end up alone? How could a popular, intelligent cheerleader and class sweetheart end up like this? Where did the time go? Why did I deserve this? Would I ever find where I belonged? Where did I go wrong? Did I really have a purpose and did I belong anywhere at all?

My choices of the men in my life were less than stellar.
The first one shot himself in the head at his mother’s house. I will call him dead E. He was something right out of my own mind. An imaginary fairy tale thought up by a little girl. I wanted someone to save me from this place I called home. A knight in shining armor to rescue me and take me far, far away, never to turn my head and look back again. The tale that all young girls dream about as they lay in their beds at night. There they lay while thinking about their own Prince Charming. The pretty pink beds with lace that trim the comforter hold many fantasies that we dream about when we are young. Oh, If they could talk.

My dream man really existed. He was tall and absolutely gorgeous. He was 6’1”, and was of thin build. He was lean with just the right amount of muscle. Not too much and not even close to being soft. He had a head full of thick black hair and olive skin that complimented the color of his eyes. His light brown eyes and long eyelashes were a sight to see and when they looked at me, I began to melt and I felt lust like never before. I was 18 and totally smitten with this city boy. This handsome young man two years my senior held my heart captive. I should have noticed the signs but I didn’t care. My boyfriend was all I needed and I was on top of the world. I fell hard and fast. We married in the same church as my parents, mostly to appease my mother but the ceremony was lovely. We were young, wild, and free. We lived the fast life. We fucked intensely and partied just as hard. We were too stupid to know any better and too young to care. Our nights would soon abruptly change. We found ourselves pregnant and totally unprepared. Pregnancy changed everything. I decided to put my foot down and wanted us to quit going out and settle down. I was alone on this plan. I was a typical American girl, young and naïve to the world and all of its perils. Simply put, I was a child having a child. Before me was a life altering experience that I was unprepared to handle. I knew not how to feel about this change occurring inside of me. E was less than happy. I know now that he was scared. He was A frightened little boy who didn’t know what to do.

E worked evenings at the shell plant as an electrician’s helper and I worked at the dentist office. I was at work at 7:30am to begin with the day’s first patient and worked until 5:30 in the evening. My job was fulfilling and I was excited about life but quickly learned I was to be alone. The nights soon turned into sadness as I waited eagerly for my love to come home and be with me. We were to have a family soon and we should get ready. He got off work at 11 at night and used to be home by 11:30. He would rush into my arms and it was wonderful. I slowly became single. I was alone; Alone and pregnant in a big city. I had been forgotten about in my beautiful town home in a great part of the city. I had top of the line furniture to sit on all by myself as a baby grew inside of me. An Expensive couch for me to lie on to watch the hours pass. The soft cushions slowly became stiffer each long night I waited alone. Each night the baby grew inside of me as I waited on a husband that had found more exciting things than I. I was all alone and like an epiphany I realized that he wasn’t ever coming home and I would be alone. My mother was furious about my pregnancy and made sure I knew it. I was alone. No longer did he rush in the door to see me. No longer did he miss me. My love began coming home in the early hours of the morning with the smell of alcohol and pussy on his clothes. Make up from someone else would be on his shirt and I was devastated. Didn’t he know who I was? Didn’t he know that nobody treated me that way? He would come home drunk or high on who knows what. As I waited for him, my belly grew and so did my hatred for men. How and why would someone do this to me? I spent many long nights awake and praying to a God that never answered me. I was ignored by an invisible god that deserted me but embraced others. I wanted to be loved so badly but it wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t going to happen with the one I loved. I knew he loved me once upon a time. I knew He loved women, but I was no longer desired by him and it was painful beyond comprehension. I began to fall into a depression that didn’t leave me for many years. I worked until the day before my child was born. She breathed her first breath in the same hospital that I was born in twenty years before. I was present but absent as I welcomed my beautiful girl who ironically favored her father into my cold world of rejection, pain, and loneliness. I loved her as much as I possibly could and I decided to leave the boy I loved to go back to school at my parents urging. No longer would I play house with rejection and betrayal. The father of my child chose drugs and alcohol over my newborn baby and me. Rage and rejection fueled my drive.

Dominatrix By Design Part 2

No, I had not been active on any scene at all. I had never even entertained the thought of letting these demons out. I had been white knuckling it my entire life.  I had fought a good and valiant fight for many years but over time, I  learned to respect the demons that I speak of.

I never read 50 Shades of Grey even though they have a purpose of collecting dust on my antique bookshelf. I never had the slightest urge to see Magic Mike. I didn’t possess the desires that were commonplace and popular among my peers. I was a loving mother, driven by love of my children and by being the polar opposite of my very own mother.

I wasn’t happy but I had mastered a craft to almost perfection. I am an actress worthy of recognition from the academy.

Pretending was my most precious escape.

Although I loathed myself for it, I had sold out and I knew it.

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