Aunty Caroline took charge of my wardrobe for the domination magazine shoot. She had already let porn magazine publisher Theresa and her photographer into the dungeon downstairs to set up and now up in her bedroom she was arranging my outfit for the photo shoot.
"What we need," said the 38-year-old former Penthouse Pet, "is a non-fussy outfit that states quite clearly 'She may be a trainee dominatrix, but don't dare fuck with this girl'. Now, where do we start?"
Aunty's first move was to draw my hair back into a severe ponytail.
Then aunty threw me a purple satin quarter cup bra. "That should fit, let's see how it works on you," she said, as I adjusted the garment to cup my 34-inch breasts.
I admired myself in the mirror. The bra was tight across my back, but it did wonders for my heavy-set breasts. "I love it," I told Caroline.
"Now for a slightly theatrical touch," said my aunt, picking up some lipstick and smearing it over my areolae, which are quite large. The effect was stunning – garish red around my nipples, which stood thick and brownish pink.
"Here's a matching suspender belt," said aunty, throwing me this time a shiny purple, deep-cut suspender, which must have been three or four inches deep. It gleamed sexily over my hips.
The stockings she gave me to go with the purple belt were black, with seams down the back. For shoes, aunty presented me with a pair of Cuban-heeled shoes in bright Man Utd or Arsenal red.
Aunty Caroline checked me out, then announced: "I'd like to make love to you right now, but we have a photo shoot to attend." And after checking that I had my sheet with the biography I had invented for myself, she led the day downstairs.
In the torture chamber, we found Theresa, naked save for a pair of black stilettos on her feet, and a black leather mask which hid her features. "Hi Caro, hi Sam," she greeted us, happily. "Sorry about the bizarre mask, but I make it a point of never appearing as myself in any of my mags.
"Now, Sam, let me introduce you to the lovely Melissa, who's going to make you our feature 'Dominette of the month' for Trainee Tormentors."
A shortish blonde, with golden hair which tumbled in a casual cut across her shoulders, held out her hand in a wave. "Hi Sam, I'm looking forward to working with you," she smiled.
Melissa was in her 30s I guessed – later I found she was 34 – with large breasts (later I learned they were 38s!) encased in a gleaming black satin bra. Her pussy was covered by a matching black thong, cut high and dragged tautly against her pussy. She had piercing blue eyes, a slight suntan and was barefoot.
"Hello," I smiled back, already feeling comfortable with her.
"Nice outfit," said Melissa, professionally eyeing me, I suspect. "Good hauteur, if that's the right term."
"Don't give up your day job, dear Mel," laughed Theresa. "Right, let's get to work!"
I then handed my bio sheet to Theresa. "This is what I've come up with, Theresa, I trust it's OK," I told her.
This is what I had put, in the style of Trainee Tormentor magazine:
Dominette's name: Lucy Lash. Birthday: April 10, 1985. Occupation: Trainee dominatrix. Location: Brighton. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown. Vital statistics: 34-23-34 Height: 5ft 2in Likes: Double domming. Dislikes: Slaves who waste time. Favourite food: Italian. Fetishes: Watersports.
The last entry in the Dominette of the Month bio was always a quote from the lady concerned – although I guess a lot of them are written by the magazine's editorial staff.
I'd decided to come up with my own and my quote was "Being a dominette means never having to say you're sorry."
"Great, I'll read it later," said Theresa as I handed her my potted biography.
Melissa now moved towards her spotlights and after arranging them to her satisfaction, she announced: "I'll get the low shot up her quim first, then we'll get some of you being punished, Theresa."
And with that, Melissa picked up an extremely expensive-looking camera and lay on her back on the floor. "Stand above me, darling," she ordered and I placed my feet on either side of her torso.
Melissa looked through her viewfinder, then said: "Not aroused enough, we need more moisture there." And with that she raised herself and licked my pussy with a very gentle and very wet tongue.
"She must like you, Sam," said Theresa, "or she'd have sprayed you instead."
I quivered as Melissa's expert mouth licked for what I knew was longer than necessary, before she lay back and started snapping.