Copyright 2007, Monica M. Martin
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC


MISTRESS KITTY’S THIGH HIGH BOOTS provides a great foundation for understanding the different lifestyles, levels of commitment, and sexual behaviors behind a BDSM relationship. But just as important to note, this is an erotically romantic story about unconventional, true love finding its way through a very conventional world. Monica M. Martin has penned an engaging and arresting story in MISTRESS KITTY’S THIGH HIGH BOOTS, an eye opener into the world of BDSM if ever I saw one!

Reviewer - Chris, Romance Junkies, Blue Ribbon Rating 1-5 ~ 4

Mistress Kitty's Thigh High Books is a sensational read. Monica Martin knows how to pack a punch. I could not put it down. Only one question remains in my head, “Where can I get a pair of those boots?

Reviewed by Deb
Sensual Reads Book Reviews

Sample Chapter For MISTRESS KITTY'S THIGH HIGH BOOTS by Monica M. Martin

December, 2005

Katherine O’Brien, a.k.a. Mistress Kitty, sat on the white leather sofa and her best friend, Jacqueline Foster, lounged on an identical one opposite. The stiletto heels of her platform boots rested on a narrow central coffee table—that also happened to be her client.

Quite naked, the accountant’s pasty white skin rivaled the lounge suite for pallor. Marvin was a weedy little man with a shaved head and chocolate-brown eyes, which tilted up to view his mistress adoringly when he thought she wasn’t observing him. A quick press of her stiletto heel enlightened him otherwise.

“Eyes to the floor, slave,” the beautiful blonde-haired woman ordered, her blue eyes cold.

He released a mournful sound and lowered his gaze to the polished hardwood floor.

“Silence. I’m trying to have a conversation with Mistress Kitty.”

Such adoration was a precious gift indeed and Kitty never tired of seeing it. Marvin was once her client. He paid to be her personal slave and devotee, and now he engaged Jackie to provide that same service.

Kitty and Jackie had studied together at Edinburgh College of Art and became business partners while still at college. Jackie was already a professional dominatrix at the time.

They shared ProDom house on Berwick Street. The house of domination took up two floors, included two offices, a comfortable reception area with a panoramic view, a private reception for intimate moments, a first-rate dungeon with all the wicked and wonderful trimmings, two cloakrooms and luxury bathroom amenities. Their loyal staff included a receptionist, two personal assistants, two maids and two bodyguards. Decorated in a white, black, red and brown-timber color scheme, the rooms were light, bright and airy, with the exception of the dungeon.

“Are you all right?” Jackie asked.

“Of course I am,” Kitty replied.

Jackie reached over, took her cup and saucer from the black woodgrain coffee table to the left of her chair arm, and sipped her tea. Her long red nails were a startling contrast against the white china. “This tastes like dishwater.” She shuddered.

Her slave’s sad glance darted up to her and then rapidly dropped to the floor again. Jackie chose to ignore him this time, his obvious grief at disappointing her enough punishment.

Kitty would have done the same.

“Tell me about this gallery in Bloomsbury showing your fabulous Dominant Art.” Jackie’s fine brows drew together. “When does the presentation commence and how long will your works be on display?”

“This June and July. The twelfth ’til the twelfth.”

“Hmm, six months away.”

Jackie sipped her tea and shuddered again. She nudged her ‘table’ with the toe of her boot before removing her feet. She snapped her fingers. “On your feet.” Her slave rose, eyes lowered. “Fetch more tea, and this time, have one of the girls make it, you incompetent fool.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He was as hard as a rock and so proud that his penis pointed at the pristine white ceiling.

“Go!” He collected the tray, cups and pot, clinking as he hurried away. “And, slave...” He stopped and turned to face the petite dominatrix.

“No toilet break and no masturbating. If I smell cock on your hands, I will whip you soundly and forbid masturbation for the entire week, you hear?”

His expression pained, he nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Now get out of my sight!” He turned and scurried from view.

Kitty grinned at Jackie. “You are too cruel.”

“Oh, my dear, he loves it. I’m considering allowing that one the pleasure of eating my prized pussy, and maybe I’ll even allow him to shag me in the near future.”

“You care for this slave?”

“Yes, I do, so thank you for handing him over to me.”

“My pleasure and you’re welcome.”

Jackie’s blue eyes softened. “Marvin’s adoration is almost as endearing as his fragility.” She laughed softly.

“Ah-ha, so the cold beauty has plans for permanent slave number three. Yes?”

Jackie tilted her head. “Not yet, he has to work hard to receive my services for free.”

“I always know when you’re captivated.”

“Oh?” Jackie tilted her blonde head.

“You give it away.”

“Well, I can’t charge for it. I’m not some common whore, dear.”

“No. It amazes me how many imagine we are.”

Jackie nodded and laughed. “Okay, what were we discussing before I rudely went off-track?”

“My art. You are going to attend my Dominant Art showing, I hope.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Katherine.”

“I’ll pass on some complimentary tickets for you and two of your openly submissive friends. Bertie, the gallery owner, is a darling man.”

“Katherine, you are a dear. I wonder whether I’ll place them in a harness or have separate leads.”

“And whether to gag or not to gag,” Kitty added. They both laughed at that.

“What are you doing for Christmas, Katherine?”

“I’m going home to Colinton Village. Mother and Father asked me to invite you along also. Father said it was perfectly all right for you to bring a submissive or two. He misses your humor.”

“Ah, Edinburgh is such a wonderful place indeed.” Jackie laughed.

“What is it?”

“I’ll never forget the day you told your parents you were a professional dominatrix. It was the first time I’d ever seen your father lose that uptight English professor countenance. I tell you, his jaw was on the lawn, my dear. Like all fine Irishmen, he recovered swiftly and accepted the fact. Your mother didn’t speak for almost an hour, and then she said...” Jackie paused in thought. “That’s what one gets when one mixes Irish and Scottish blood.”

They both laughed.

“You certainly found Father’s release button.”

“Oh, yes. I just love that old boy. Point of fact, your whole family is wonderful.”

Kitty smiled. “Yes, they are. Now, are you coming?”

“Of course, and we’re going to the pub. This time I’m going to beat him at pool.”

Marvin knocked on the door. “Your tea, Mistress Jacqueline.”

“Bring it in, pour two cups and hand them to Mistress Kitty and myself, and then kneel at my feet, slave.”

Marvin did precisely as Jackie had ordered and then knelt before her black thigh-high boots. Kitty hid a smile when the fingers of one hand slipped up to amorously stroke the arch of Jackie’s boot.


He pulled his hand back rapidly.

“You disappoint me! Now crawl to the corner and face the wall.” He did as she ordered, his arms by his sides, his shoulders shaking violently. He was crying.

Jackie sipped her tea and smiled triumphantly.

Kitty could see her friend was growing very fond of this particular client. She had firsthand knowledge that he’d move in with Jackie and become her permanent slave, if she asked it of him.

Kitty wanted a man of her own and children. She hungered for a man she could build a life with, one who embraced his submissive urges, explored all boundaries and was open regarding his innermost fears and desires. In short, she wanted a real life relationship where both parties shared equally and respected each other’s desires and needs. However, it was rather unlikely her potential mate would be able to submit one hundred percent of the time, as he would need to have a successful career, and success required a semblance of dominance. Ironically, she appreciated a man armored in his business suit, more fun to peel back the layers and expose the inner submissive.

She didn’t have sex with any of her clients. However, she got off on each experience. She would consider herself unfaithful if she were to enter into a relationship while working as a dominatrix, hence the reason for her early retirement plans.

She knew many working dominants, male and female, who kept permanent slaves and submissives who enjoyed the pain and humiliation they bore watching their master or mistress gift other adoring men and/or women with their brand of dominance and affection. Kitty’s dominance had more of a maternal and nurturing edge to it, and she wasn’t a sharing kind of girl. She was too obsessive not to be monogamous. Her lucky submissive would rule her mind, an irony she was happy to live with.

Jackie laughed at her when she announced she’d be retiring in June in order to achieve her dream of a fulfilling relationship and children, and dedicate more time to her artwork, her new career. Jackie blamed sexual frustration, citing Kitty’s need to have relations due to lack of sex. She pointed out it was easier to choose a favorite client and give him the privilege of eating her out and shagging her. Jackie even gave blowjobs, although, she never knelt and swallowing was out of the question.

Kitty had begun to rearrange her life and had reduced her client list to two, having referred the others to Jackie and several other like-minded female dominants. They discussed selling the business, so Jackie could take on a new partner. Kitty agreed to sell her share in June. She needed more money to filter into her artwork, at least until she made a name for herself. She wasn’t strapped for cash, but she liked to have savings in case of a rainy day.

“Are you dreaming of your future husband again, Kitty?”

“Kind of.”

“When is your next appointment?” Jackie asked.

“I have Charles McKenzie, the lovable publisher of Sports in Britain, in for an all afternoon spanking session at two o’clock. The man told me ‘my never-ending legs, red hair, green eyes and freckles tantalized his mind from daylight ’til dark.’”

“He is a darling.” Jackie plucked up several magazines off the coffee table. “He delivers these complimentary magazines. Right?” She flicked through the top one.

“Yes. He has many friends in the industry. I do enjoy reading The Contemporary Man.”

Jackie glanced back at the cover of the mag she flicked though and whistled. “Did you get a look at the publisher and editor-in-chief of the publication? Now there’s one beautiful specimen.”

“Oh, yes, Bertie’s son. Alex Stevenson is a brown-eyed Jude Law with a larger build, makes my knickerbockers wet just looking at him.” She wriggled her brows and giggled.

“Head editor of his own, very prosperous magazine, he’s a complete control freak. What a shame.”

Kitty grinned. “Yes, a shame indeed.”

Jackie rose. “Well, my break is over, time to fulfill Marvin’s greatest wish,” she whispered.