New Book for Bondage Lovers

I had an amazing experience interviewing Gillian Simpkins about her experience as a fetish photographer's assistant and mistress. Miss Simpkins is a very pretty girl and she has a lovely young maid, Imogene. Who likes bondage and girls in that order.

I have the feeling Mady will want Miss Simpkins and, especially, Imogene to become regular visitors.

I have no doubt elliot would be please with that arrangement as well. However, Miss Simpkins has her patron to attend to and photoshoots with lovely young models to arrange. Plus working in the used book store and keeping up her mistress glossiness.

But she seems to be doing very well.

You can see the book at Amazon. Here is a short excerpt:

---

I arrived at the outer door, keyed in the code, went to the inner door, keyed in the code and shoved my worldly possessions into the studio. I looked around.

Over in the photo studio space there was a girl in a corset and stockings with her arms manacled above her head. Paul was happily taking pictures and the dark haired girl was posing as hard as she could in her restraints. What do you do?

I decided to do nothing. I pushed my boxes into the studio and walked over to where Paul was engrossed with what looked like a film camera.

“Mr. Livingston, how long have you had that poor girl chained up?” I said with what I hope was a laugh in my voice.

“About half an hour Miss. I’m Jules. I’ve worked with Paul before. This is the easy part,” said the trussed up girl. “But the money is great. Are you doing a shoot?”

“Not today,” I replied. “Paul needed a stylist. I’m it.”

Somehow it seemed perfectly normal to be chatting to a woman in a black corset, heels, and, on closer inspection, vintage stockings and shackled to a pillar in a space I was moving into. Which was because Paul was so absolutely normal. He was, matter of factly, snapping pictures.

“Miss Simpkins!” he said. “So glad you’re here. Could you just lower the left cup of Jules’ corset so I can shoot her nipple. It’s fine, I have the consent right here.”

“Totally fine Paul, and a lot more fun to have a pretty girl strip me.”

We spent the next hour making Jules increasingly naked and more than a little uncomfortable.
As I hoisted her arms behind her and pulled down her panties to reveal a luxurious 1950’s bush, Jules kept up a steady stream of conversation.

“Really Paul, you’d make much more money if you stuffed something up my pussy,” She said at one point.

“Not in it for the money Jules. In it for the style and the style says we barely see your pussy,” said Paul to my surprise. “This is all about a damsel in distress; but she mostly keeps her modesty.”
Which was somewhat true if you ignore her breasts, the nipples of which Paul had had me clip twenty minutes before. And nothing mild like the adjustable clips you see in sex shops – or I saw once – rather full on bulldog clips with her nipples pushed into the gap. This was not hardcore but it was serious. I’d attached her to a gym horse looking ready for a flogging. I was really hoping Paul would not ask me to lay on the strokes. He didn’t. A dozen close ups later and we were done.

“Miss Simpkins, set a kettle to boil and you’ll find tea in the cupboard. You did beautifully, Jules.”
I’d unstrapped Jules and brought her a robe.

“It was fun Paul,” said Jules unconsciously rubbing her clipped and swollen nipples under the robe. “It always is. And now you have an assistant.”

“I do.”

“Will she be…”

“Not today Jules. In future, perhaps,” said Paul.

“Well then, still my turn,” said Jules and she dropped to her knees in front of Paul, took his cock out of his nicely pleated wool trousers, and got to work sucking. She didn’t even take the clips off her nipples.

As I made tea, I could see her head bobbing up and down and, in a couple of minutes, just when the tea was done, so was Paul.

“Thank you, dear Jules,” he said. “Now, tea?”

“In a moment Paul, I’ll just go and rinse.”

And off she trotted to the bathroom entirely unconcerned that she’d just given her photographer a very public blow job.

I brought the tea to the coffee table where Paul had been so recently serviced.

“Really?” I said.

“Mostly,” said Paul. “I make it very worth their while.”

“Then whatever do you want me for?” I asked genuinely perplexed.

“I need to stop. I still want to shoot for my collection but I can’t afford the possibility that one of these girls is going to turn on me. Not Jules, but one of them will eventually and that will cost me a lot of money and a good deal of reputation,” he said.

Getting Started with a Female Led Relationship

I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday Season. We certainly did. I gave elliot two books he has been looking for for years and Mady and I let him out of his chastity cage on Christmas Eve. I'd upped his dose of Viagra a little and his not terrifically large cock was just perfect after he had spent quite a long time licking me. I didn't let him come in me and Mady had her fun with his very hard cock. She is such a naughty girl and she looked lovely as she climbed on top of elliot for Christmas treats. Again, I didn't let elliot cum in Mady either. Instead we put him in a locking long legged panti-girdle and sent him to bed. Christmas morning dawned and when Mady came in with my coffee I had her unlock poor elliot and give him a bit of a tease before his shower.

After his shower I had Mady handcuff him and then push a wonderful, remote controlled vibrator into his bottom. Then she put the girdle back on and elliot spent Christmas Day on edge. It was such fun watching the expression on his face when we flipped on the vibe. But we didn't push him over the edge. Mady had told me that she really wanted to give him a blow job as part of his Christmas and, after dinner we went to his den, handcuffed him again and Mady got to work. elliot could not believe his luck when it became evident she was going to suck him to completion. What fun!

All of which brings me to a lovely note I received from a young wife in a leafy suburb of a city in the Southern United States named Kendra,

---

Dear Miss Jay,

I wanted to thank you for your wonderful website and your fantastic books. When I was a little younger I read your Modern Mistress: Lead the Luxury Life You Deserve and was kept for a few years beginning in my last year in college. What fun and what nice men.

However, we all have to grow up sometime and for me that meant getting married and, eventually, having kids. Very normal. Having been a mistress I have to say gave me a slightly different perspective on men than my girlfriends had. They are all sweet and still my friends now, but they all see men like they were still in high school. Essentially, they all sort of hung back hoping that Mr. Right would, somehow, pop into their lives. Sadly, men did pop into their lives. Very unsuitable men.

I approached the whole thing very differently. I wanted a good man, a little older than I am, reasonably successful with great prospects and, most importantly, willing to follow my lead. From my experience as a mistress I realized that I liked being in charge. And, as a mistress, part of my vocation was spending time researching some of the sexual byways my patrons seemed to be interested in. One of the things I noticed was that all of my patrons, and I only had three, liked to be told what to do. In bed, but also in my apartment and even when we were out for dinner or shopping.

It was a very specific thing. I could ask them to do something and they might or might not do it, but if I told them to do something they practically purred. Now, these were very successful men, I was an expensive luxury, and they spent their days making decisions and telling other people what to do. As you have written on this blog and in your books, men need time out from always having to make decisions. A mistress gives them that time out. But a wife?

Maybe. But first I had to find the right guy. I am not one for hanging back. While I was a mistress I worked in corporate communications for a public relations firm. I accumulated a well edited  wardrobe and a reputation for being "that girl who is always wearing dresses". In fact, most of the time I wore really well-tailored suits but always with skirts. I never wore pant suits. Attractive, often pretty, but also very self-possessed. I never looked like I was trying too hard.

Part of my job was going to assorted networking events. Pretty basic where everyone is being "social" while looking out for new clients. I did at least one of these a week and enjoyed them. I am fairly tall and I have quite a nice figure - I walk a lot and swim for an hour twice a week - and with the right bra...well, I get my share of attention. The more obvious come ons I ignored but there were plenty of nice men who could hold a conversation. Usually, under the pretext of business, it was not at all difficult to arrange to meet a few days out and that is what I did.

Yes, this was calculating. But you get what you want by going after it. I must have had coffee with twenty five or so men and then drinks with half a dozen. Oddly enough, the coffees brought me in another half dozen potential clients so, even if I didn't find a husband, I was ahead of the game. Coffee was business attire, drinks I would up my game a bit. From my mistress days I had three or four "little black dresses" each of which was a tiny bit revealing in a subtle way. I have nice legs so a short skirt is never a bad choice. At the same time I have rather pretty clavicles and why not show them off in a longer but off the shoulder dress? My rule for drinks was two glasses of wine and then, no matter how well it was going, off I went.

It did not take long, a couple of months, to find several men who I enjoyed and who enjoyed me. I was in no hurry but I was also not going to waste a lot of time. Unfortunately, these days, the sorts of serious, successful men I was looking for took sex as a given once you got to a couple of dinner dates. I am, obviously, no enemy of sex; but I also am well aware that there is huge value in sex and that it should not be squandered. It was also an opportunity to see how various men responded to the idea that they would do what they were told.

I still had my very elegant, slightly "mistressy" apartment. The mistressy element was in the expensive, minimalist and quite masculine furniture. In one of your mistress books, Zoey's First Night I think a girl says "I want to be the most feminine thing in my apartment". Very much how I decorated.

I took all of three men back to my apartment. The first, well the first was a mistake. He made the assumption that if I was inviting him back after dinner I was going to be dessert. Er, no. He lasted about five minutes before I bundled him out the door. The other two were sweet. My basic test was to see if they would do as they were told without any quid pro quo.

I would pour us each a glass of wine, sit, in a rather brilliant black leather club chair and, when everyone was settled down, say, "Now, dear man, are you comfortable? Ready to please me?" They would usually nod. "Excellent, we'll get started. Stand up. Turn. Now back around. Good."

Both the boys were with me to this point but now it would get interesting.

"I want to see you naked," I said. "So just stand where you are and take off your clothes. All of them."

One man said, "Really?" and the other said "What?", I said "Yes".

One of the men, Matt, began to undress as soon as I said "Yes", the other, whose name I forget, wanted to talk about it. I said goodnight.

I married Matt. And not just because, when I lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties and said, "Get to work," he was very eager and very good, really because he did what he was told without a moment's protest. Matt was good enough at pussy licking that I was tempted to let him have his own orgasm. But I knew I had to start as I meant to finish. When I was done I pulled up my panties, let down my skirt and moved to the couch. I motioned Matt over and had him lie with his head in my lap.

"We are going to be going on several dates," I said gently sliding my long nails across his nipple. "I am going to be testing you, teasing you. Starting right now you will not cum without my permission and supervision. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"You have a very nice cock, Matt," I said. "From now on it is my cock. We'll see how you behave and, if you are a good boy, we might even let that cock have a bit of fun. But, for the moment, I want you to get dressed, give me a kiss and leave. I'll call you when I want to see you again."

"Yes Ma'am."

From that day 'til this that is exactly how I have trained Matt. I do have a paddle - a rather nice bamboo paddle I had Matt order me for a wedding gift - and a couple of rattan canes I gave us for our first anniversary. But, honestly, I really don't use them on Matt very often. He is naturally very obedient. I have looked at a chastity cage for him but I am not there yet.

I took Matt on our wedding night having only given him hand jobs to that point over our six month engagement. Three to be exact. But he knew that if I invited him to my apartment he would spend a good deal of his time under my skirt. Which he loved.

My girlfriends can't quite figure out how I manage to have a happy, very successful, husband who is so attentive and helpful. I will often have a couple of girlfriends over and Matt makes the snacks and serves them in a wonderfully 50's housewife sort of a way.

At home he always wears loose wrap tops - Kimono shirts they are called - and kimono capri pants and Japanese sandals. It is a perfectly androgynous look and my girlfriends joke about my not having a husband so much as a houseboy. Matt knows that I expect him to come home from work and put on his house clothes and be ready to greet me when I get back from work. I have a slightly longer commute so this works well. He's responsible for having something nice to go with a much needed after work glass of wine. We usually cook together but he is responsible for clean-up while I enjoy a few minutes of down time. Once he has done the clean up he may have some laundry or vacuuming to do. I made it very clear during our courtship that those sorts of household chores were his responsibility.

When he is done I might invite him to curl up on the couch with me to watch Netflix for a while but, right at ten, I send him to get changed for bed. I like him to wear one of his many sets of Kimono pajamas. These are nice because if I want to have him I can just tell him to wiggle out of the trousers. I come upstairs when I am ready.

I suspect that one of the reasons I am hesitant about putting a cage on Matt is that I enjoy playing with him and, once in a while, taking him. I am always on top. In two years of marriage Matt has never once taken the top position when we make love. And I have made it very clear that just because I have decided to have him he does not have permission to cum. That's a special treat. He also knows that if he somehow can't control himself our bedroom cane will remind him who is in charge. He's only lost control four or five times but a really sound caning each time has made those slips very rare.

Matt loves all this. So do I. He's told me over and over how lucky he was that I chose him. I think so too.

Kisses,

Kendra

----

Dear Kendra (I wrote back),

What a lovely story. I love the fact you've figured out a house uniform for your husband. Too clever.

But what I really like is that you made a decision about the sort of man you wanted to marry and got to work finding him. All too often young women settle for what they think is available when, with a little effort, they can find a suitable man who will be only too delighted to honour and obey.

I understand your view on chastity cages. I had the same view for years. But, at a certain point, caging a man is a kindness. Self-restraint is a great thing but the poor dears are remarkably penis driven. By locking a man up you are removing temptation.

Enjoy your marriage and keep me posted,

Enjoy!

Hannah

The Dominant Mistress

I had a wonderful letter from Christine who lives in a medium-sized American city:

Dear Miss Jay,

What fun it is to read your blog and your books because, in a way, they are about a part of my life which I keep very discreet but enjoy immensely.

A little about me. I just turned thirty have a college degree in history and a good job at a very specialized employment agency. Very 9-5, very conservative, quite well-paid but, honestly, a little boring. I'm single by choice and, while I occasionally date, likely to stay that way for at least a few more years.

I am quite pretty. Brunette with my hair cut into a short bob. Fairly tall at 5' 7" and nicely proportioned. Which is where this discreet part of my life begins. After college, when I was working retail and trying to make ends meet, I did a little modelling. Nothing all that glamourous but the camera likes me and I am a bit of a free spirit. Once I got to know a photographer or a guy with a camera, I was more than willing to make more money doing lingerie shoots and, for even more money, semi-nude work. I was very strict about the fact that my more risque work was not for publication much less for the internet and my photographers have honored my wishes. It was a fun thing to do on a Saturday afternoon and while I didn't make a fortune, it was all in cash. It bridged the gap until I found my current job.

I had thought that I would give up modelling when I got a better paying job but I had a group of regulars and why give up a couple of thousand dollars a month so I kept going. And I began to branch out into the "fetish" world. Corsets and stockings and high black boots. I guess because I am brunette I always seemed to be cast as the "dominant" in these sort of shoots. The blonds were the girls being tied up, I was doing the tying. Which was tons of fun.

I have to admit I never really thought about any sort of dominance in a sexual sense. I knew there was such a thing but really thought it was about sadistic guys in the 50 Shades of Grey sense. But I read a bit, Gloria Brame's Different Loving was a revelation about dominance and submission and that led me to reading quite a bit online and, eventually, to your blog and elliot's first book, A Man In My Position. 

My fetish modelling gave me the chance to play a little with these ideas and I created a bit of a persona, Miss Christina complete with her own black leather corset and fetish outerwear. Some of my photographers were more than a little excited to be giving me expensive kid leather pencil skirts or long black leather gloves. One guy had a bit of a boot fetish and I had two pairs of thigh-high, black leather, high-heeled boots. Plus all sorts of props like riding crops, canes and a cute little leather paddle with a very special handle.

"Miss Christina" was much in demand of a Saturday afternoon because a lot of these photographers were, rather obviously, not so much interested in the "shot" as the fantasy. I was willing to play ball because I liked the money and I enjoyed the persona. While I was not "Miss Christina" she was certainly a part of me.

Miss Christina continued to be booked and one man, in particular, could be counted on for two or three bookings a month. Kevin, obviously not his real name, was a very nice, if timid, man in his fifties. Not bad looking and delightfully generous. He told me he loved buying me nice things and along with a few bits of fetish wear kept me in glamourous silk stockings and pretty cashmere sweaters (which he liked me to wear without a bra).

After a shoot Kevin would often take me out for dinner. Nice restaurants, no expectations. It was interesting because he really wanted to have dinner with Miss Christina but was "settling" for me. Miss Christina only existed in the photo studio. Which we talked about. A lot.

One evening, after a particularly successful shoot where Miss Christina had tied up and lightly caned that week's little blonde submissive, Kevin was very worked up.

"What if I set up a private studio for Miss Christina?" he asked.

"What for?"

"Well, I thought you might accept me as..."

"As what, Kevin?" I asked. "I know you have a lovely wife, children and, frankly, I don't see how having a studio would change that."

"Well it wouldn't," said Kevin. "But, perhaps, you could be Mistress Christina a few hours a week."

"That would be very expensive," I said hoping to kill the idea.

"Oh, that really doesn't matter," said Kevin. "My little company is doing very well."

"Let me think about it," I said. "Could the studio be a loft where I could live?"

"Sure."

"And you do know that mistresses get allowances."

"Yes, Mistress," he said.

"Not yet, you naughty little man," I said laughing. "I said I'd think about it."

"Yes, Miss."

We booked for the following weekend and I thought about it.

Not much to think about really. I would get a nice place to live and an allowance and Kevin? Well, Kevin would find Mistress Christina waiting for him a couple of times a week. I'd need to be a bit creative about which paces to put him through but I was certain I would think of something.

So off I went and I found a very nice loft which had a decent sized, out of the way, space in the back where Mistress Christina could construct her lair. After our shoot the following Saturday, I took Kevin to meet the agent and he signed a two year lease. I got the keys right there and the agent left.

I looked at Kevin.

"Strip. You are never in your street clothes in my domain," I said.

He did what he was told and was soon standing in the middle of the bare, white painted space with a very erect penis of rather modest stature.

"Oh, your poor wife. At least I don't have to pretend to enjoy that little thing. Get down on your knees, chin on the floor, arms stretched ahead of you,"  I said. "I will start as I mean to finish. Will marks be a problem at home."

"Yes Mistress, but there will be times when they won't," he said.

"Then I will try not to leave any," I said bringing the strap down on his pale white bottom. Not terribly hard but with a snap. The slap of the strap echoed off the bare walls. "I am going to need some furniture."

"And a decent allowance. You'll write a number down after your punishment and you better hope I accept it because otherwise, you are going to have a real punishment," I said bring down the strap as punctuation. "You never want a real punishment. Ever."

I want on like this until his bottom was just this side of bruising. His erection never waivered.

"Still hard I see," I said as I finished. "So write down that number."

"Yes Mistress," he said as I handed him a pencil and a piece of paper. He wrote a gratifying number as I was sure he would.

"Done, payment tonight. You can phone transfer it when I am done with you. Now jerk off onto the paper," I said. I had planned that part.

"Thank you Mistress," he said.

"Well, I want to have dinner so jerk that little cock off quickly," I said.

"Where?" said Kevin looking around for what, privacy, a tissue?

"Right here, on the paper," I said. "On your knees. Like every week from now on. Start jerking."

"But..."

"Oh, you're worried about your little mess. That's what your tongue and your mouth are for. Clean up. And, maybe, if you are very good, someday my pleasure," I said.

The power of words is amazing and Kevin shot streams of cum all over the paper and the floor.

"Lick," I said. "And don't miss a drop."

He did. Then he dressed, transferred the money, and then we went to dinner.

I teased him over dinner about his sore bottom and his humiliation on the paper. But I was also very sweet as I negotiated a clothing allowance and hair care and a few other things.

I do wish I had read your Modern Mistress before the conversation but I did pretty well.

That's how it started and, honestly, it has been pretty much the same sort of thing every week for two years. I have him come over and clean my loft in a pretty maid's uniform I had him buy from Amazon. Then a foot massage and then, if he is very lucky, he might be told to lick.

Typically, I give him some sort of physical correction and once a month, when his wife is on her period and unlikely to want his attentions, I will give him a good caning and leave welts.

We've never discussed what he wants. The very point of being a dominant mistress is that, like a dominant wife, what he wants does not matter. It is what I want that counts.

Now, you have to keep it interesting and, for three years, I have been threatening to peg him. He wants that a lot and he'll get it. The last day he is with me which is a while from now but he does not know that.

As a dominant mistress I am exclusive. I have no other submissive men. But I do like men, real men with real cocks and, once in a while, I will tie Kevin and gag him and put him in my bedroom closet when a boy fucks me hard. Something Kevin knows he will never be allowed to do. I leave the door open just a crack so Kevin can see what he will always be missing.

Kevin seems to enjoy our time together. He's renewed the lease, raised my allowances and keeps giving me pretty things. I like being spoilt.

Please keep doing your blog and your books,

Christine

----

I wrote back,

Dear Christine,

Lucky you!

I really do think that every woman should spend a bit of her life being "kept" and pampered and enjoyed. But you combine that with the female dominant role that so many men crave.

Lucky Kevin!

Reading my mail there are so many men who want to submit to a lovely woman but simply cannot find her. Kevin did and, I suspect, could not be happier.

One note, never worry about his wife. You are actually doing her a huge favour. You are not about taking her man away, rather you are giving him what he craves so she can go on with her life.

It is a grand bargain and keep raising your allowance.

Enjoy!

Hannah