The Long Hard Road Out of Hell

privately, moving to Florida in 1980. Finally, she realized that if she advertised, she could do the same things to strangers for more money. Now, at $200 a session (which can last anywhere from 12 minutes to 13 hours), she earns roughly $25,000 a year, tax-free.
    Her customers, who are between 19 and 74, locate her through a personal ad that reads: “Sincere, mature, dominant woman has slave quarters available for short- and long-term stays.” Generally, her clientele are businessmen with families, she claims. “I believe the higher the executive, the higher the pressure and the more they do these things,” she decides. “I see faces and I recognize them from campaign posters. I find that it’s not unusual that I’ve had firemen, police officers, attorneys, judges, airline pilots and football players.” Laughing, she adds, “I get most of my calls after the three-day holidays when these men are at home with their wives and they’re not accustomed to spending that much time with their families. So I get some pretty frantic calls that they’ve been ‘bad boys’ and that they need to be spanked.”
    Not only does she provide services for sexually depraved clients, her personal live-in slaves give her everything they own. Presently, the peon of this V-girl’s bawdy house is a gaunt, middle-aged gentleman named Stan. Despite the fact that he is a good two feet taller than Mistress Barbara, her tyrannical demeanor causes him to cower beneath her like a maimed cat. As my photographer, Marc Serota, prepares some additional lighting, she orders Stan to undress for the picture; the slave scuttles out of the room obediently. Turning back to me, she explains, “You can’t be a good dominatrix without understanding submission. The game that we play is—I play as though I am in control and I’m forcing them to do these things. But in reality it’s what they want to receive.
    â€œThey make no decisions. Not even what to wear or when to speak. I totally control their lives. I am everything to them. These are people who have not been able to run their lives. They’ve made such a mess of their lives and have never been satisfied with any woman. So I just take everything over, they don’t even have to think.”
    Apparently, men like Stan live with her and cater to her every desire whether it is sexual or otherwise. In return for her care, he gives her a nominal amount of money each week that she uses to pay his bills. She becomes a mother of sorts. What they don’t know is that she saves most of their cash and returns it to them when they decide to move on; she likes to give them a fresh start.
    Stan finally returns. I am a little more than surprised by his appearance. Aside from the fact that he is totally naked, his body hair has been shaved entirely and he is wearing four or five (I don’t get close enough to get an exact count) of those attractive metal hoops that I described some 27 paragraphs ago; they jangle as he walks into the room. Sheepishly, he crawls onto Mistress Barbara’s black leather chiropractor’s chair, where she proceeds to crucify him against the wall. After he is secured at the neck, wrists and ankles, she casually applies surgical hemostats to his nipples.
    â€œDoes that hurt?” she asks coyly.
    â€œWell...” he begins, but before he can finish she grabs his denigrated genitals and squeezes with the ease of any Publix produce shopper.
    â€œGet a little more uncomfortable,” she commands and her battered boy toy responds quickly, stretching his leg sideways at an awkward angle.

    As pancake-size red welts form around Stan’s mangled breasts, I ask him how he feels. Slowly and carefully he mumbles, “Restrained… I feel something but it’s hard to pin a certain emotion on it.”
    â€œStan is not an articulate person and he always understates everything,” the groin-gouging guru interjects. “I’ve always treated men in this fashion. I’ve always felt that men should be kept in cages and stables like dogs and horses and taken out only when you want to play with them. It’s very convenient.”
    The camera begins to flash and Stan winces for the paparazzi as Mistress Barbara answers the door. It’s Bob, her part-time slave. He carries in a large box that she says is filled with black market transvestite videos. Bob is a retired grandfather who