Read Fifty Shades of Domination - My True Story Online

Authors: Mistress Miranda

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #General, #Social Science, #Sociology, #Health & Fitness, #Sexuality

Fifty Shades of Domination - My True Story (28 page)

Eventually, a few weeks after Christmas, I agreed to a meeting. We both knew by then that this would end up in the bedroom and I’d already picked a local hotel. I hope you’ll excuse me if this is one sexual encounter about which I don’t go into all of the naughty details. This one was just too personally special to share. Suffice it to say that his body
was amazing and his mind was even better. We clicked immediately and couldn’t stop talking, even though we were both desperate to get to the room and start exploring those wild sexual fantasies we’d talked about for months. When we did finally end up in bed, the sex was mind-blowingly good for both of us. By the end of the night I knew two things: I wanted this man in my life… and the last thing I was going to do was let him know that.
 
I was pretty sure that Tony was as smitten with me as I, secretly, was with him. The number of texts and emails he sent me in the days that followed seemed to confirm that. ‘I had such a great time… you’re wonderful… when are we meeting again?’ he asked, over and over again. Being the cruel Mistress that I am, it was easy for me to simply ignore every mention of a future meeting. Instead, I would email him back, chatting away as though nothing had happened and just being sexy and friendly and fun. ‘Yes, but when are we going to meet up again,’ he demanded with ever-increasing urgency. I could tell I was driving him crazy but was determined not to let him think that he’d impressed me in the way that he actually had. I did, after all, have vast experience of teasing men and keeping them strictly in their place. I kept him dangling for weeks. Finally he reached his breaking point. ‘Okay,’ he wrote, ‘I’ll leave it with you. I can see you aren’t keen to meet up again, I’ll leave the ball in your court.’
‘Oh well,’ I replied ‘how about Wednesday next week?’
Even then I was being somewhat cruel to the poor guy. I knew that he worked in central London and that his job meant waking up ridiculously early on weekdays. It would have been
so much easier for him to see me at the weekend, but I didn’t want to make this easy. As I’d hoped, he didn’t even argue: ‘No problem, Wednesday it is then, definitely, definitely.’
From then onwards the relationship blossomed. We were meeting a couple of times a week and having fantastic, amazing, mind-blowing sex. I knew that I’d met someone very special. After years of living with losers, Tony was on a par with me and I was overwhelmed with sexual attraction towards him. It was so good to meet a man with a like-mind to me. The great body and the fact that he was very well hung were a bonus – most definitely a bonus. He was still working in town and, for the first time I was being taken out properly on dates and exploring the city in which I’d lived for all of my life. There was a memorable evening a few weeks into our relationship when he took me out to a top-class, Michelin-starred restaurant. It was something my former partners would never have dreamt of doing for me. I felt I was truly in a genuine relationship, being wooed in a way that all girls should be wooed. I realised how much of life I’d been missing up until then. Tony was showing me how a relationship should start, if it means to go on.
In the bedroom too, our new life together was a revelation. For the first time I felt that I was fully exploring my own sexuality, discovering pleasures that I had never experienced before. I know that probably sounds odd to your ears, because I had been sessioning for years and exploring a myriad of wonderfully kinky things in my working life. The truth was that I had been fulfilling everyone else’s fantasies and dreams but never having my own fully explored or fully met. I had always got a sexual kick out of my work but never the sort
of sexual excitement and enjoyment that my relationship with Tony was now providing in full. Even more importantly, I felt I had met my soulmate; not only for the support and companion-ship he was giving me but also because he was ticking all the boxes that previously had been missing from my life. Tony made me a whole person and made me very happy. We’ve since been together for more than five years and we now work together as well, building my businesses in a way I could never have done on my own.
 
Some long while after our friendship had turned into love and our lives had become inextricably intertwined, I mentioned to Tony that I missed the sexy emails and texts that he once used to send me. ‘They were my wildest dreams and fantasies,’ he told me. ‘Why do I need fantasies anymore? I’ve got the real thing.’
A short while ago, Tony and I got engaged. My grandfather always said that his dearest wish was to walk me down the aisle but until I met my current partner I had no intention of doing that. I’d always thought: ‘What a shame that Granddad’s never going to get his wish – but marriage isn’t for me.’ My grandfather is long gone now of course and I miss him every day. But it may not be a bad thing that he won’t be at my wedding because I have some very specific ideas as to how it might be. It will be a ceremony fit for a dominatrix princess. To hell with a virgin-white dress; everyone else can wear white. I’m planning on wearing a kinky, blue latex creation that will blow my husband’s mind. In my head, my idea of marriage is dragging my man, kicking and screaming, into my cells. Then, after the slave auction is
over, the half-a-dozen hunky, well-hung, ‘best men’ can have my full attention.
I have many flights of fancy like this – on an hourly basis. Please don’t tell my fiancé!
CHAPTER 27
A STAR OF STAGE AND SCREEN
F
inding my soulmate has benefitted not only my social life but also my business career. I’ve long had a presence on the web, but it was a bonus to discover that my partner Tony was an experienced IT consultant and could revolutionise the websites which were becoming more and more important for my company. With his help I’ve expanded both my private members’ club site and have boosted the sales of my films across various internet platforms. Together we’ve opened up a whole new world of international business. Our latest venture has seen us launch a new film-clips site, hosting films that have been produced not just by my production company but by other dominatrices both here and in Europe.
I’m constantly amazed by how comfortable I feel when performing in front of the camera. At school, speaking in front of a crowd would have been anathema to me. I never
wanted to be singled-out; I felt uncomfortable hearing my own voice and having others listen to me. Even reading out loud in class made me wish that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. None of that was because I couldn’t read well but because others were hearing my voice. When it came to school plays I would seek out the most insignificant one-line roles, although even then my nerves would overcome me and ensure that I would fluff my one tiny line. The fact that I was so retiring is one of the reasons why my spelling remains poor to this day; I was too shy to ever draw attention to myself by even asking for help in spelling difficult words. So, how odd is it now that once the camera starts rolling I can chat away for England? Part of it is that I am usually talking about a subject dear to my heart – bondage, domination and the humiliation of my ever-willing slaves. A filming day is a fun mix of sex, naughtiness, laughter, a lot of stress and what I like to believe is organised chaos. My office, normally my haven of peace and quiet to which I can escape for a moment during a busy day of mistreating multiple clients, becomes a dressing-room, make-up salon and film crew canteen all rolled into one. Were you a fly on the wall, you would see some interesting sights.
I can often be found half-naked in the middle of an essential costume change; there may be other beautiful Mistresses or petite slavegirls in a similar state of dishabille. My cameraman will stroll through us all seeking batteries or tripods, and a trusted ‘owned’ slave will be satisfying my constant demand for more coffee. The doorbell will chime as volunteer slaves turn up for filming sessions, telephones will ring with new clients seeking appointments and in the dungeon outside
other actors will be struggling into tight leather pants or shiny rubber body bags. It may appear at first that all is confusion, but that is not the case. I rule over my empire with a rod of iron; woe-betide those who mess up my schedule for the day. Filming is a demanding and expensive business.
Even on non-filming days my dungeon will be busy with a succession of clients arriving at regular intervals throughout the day and there’s always a ton of cleaning, sterilising and tidying up to do between each appointment. Each of my rooms is thoroughly cleaned after each appointment and I will need to ensure that the correct equipment is in place, and instantly to hand, to give my next client precisely the service that he or she may require. On top of all that, my business, like any other commercial concern, runs on paperwork: invoices to be prepared, supplies to be ordered, financial records to be kept and a master diary of all of the daily activities to be maintained. Peculiarly to an adult business such as mine, the confidentiality of my clients is all-important. For that reason, my financial and tax papers record no names whatsoever. All of my clients are known to me via a series of unidentifiable code words or nicknames.
 
One of the major changes that my partner has helped me institute within the business has been the concept of longer-term strategic thinking. Because of the way I drifted into my work as a dominatrix, planning for the future was never a strong point. That was partly a factor of operating on the fringes of society, never quite knowing if my premises would be shut down or what the future might hold. I was also working on my own, with nobody I trusted to help focus
ideas. It’s just in my nature to be always full of dreams and always wanting to be busy. Many years ago a friend coined the nickname ‘Whirlwind’ for me. ‘You’ve always got five things in your head at once,’ he said. ‘Slow down, slow down.’ On the positive side, I do have some notable business strengths: I’m always on the ball with answering emails and telephone calls, I’m never late for my sessions and I’m pretty good at scheduling, not over-lapping appointments and avoiding general cock-ups. I think I’ve done OK.
I’m sometimes asked what advice I would give to any woman wanting to emulate me and start up as an aspiring young dominatrix. There’s only one answer, which is to get yourself £50,000 in the bank first, because you’ll need the equipment. There are plenty of competing Mistresses out there who seek to offer specialties such as corporal punishment, foot worship, face-sitting or whatever, and who think the only equipment they need is a cane or some thigh-boots. The problem is that men will visit them once and never return. If you aren’t prepared to put in the investment to do the job properly, men soon realise you are not seriously interested in the game and will look elsewhere for those who are. My own deliciously-equipped premises have been furnished and crafted over many years. I pride myself on having equipment most men can only dream of, but I’m always seeking more. Every international film trip now has to include a visit to the local fetish equipment suppliers; I’m still a sucker for anything new.
That desire for novelty has led me to search for new and exciting film locations and for contacts in the adult film industry. I make frequent visits to various European cities –
Berlin, Frankfurt, Amsterdam, Madrid and so on – to meet and film with other dominatrices. Each girl and each location brings a flavour of the kinks of her own country and culture; I rarely return from such visits without a new idea to incorporate into my own play back in London.
One market, the biggest of them all, has proved a tougher nut to crack. Ever since I was a little girl I had always been fascinated by the sights and the sounds of America. My little girl fantasy figure of Madonna and the American life I saw on television all made me want to be there. One of the few regrets in my working life had been turning down the chance to work in California many years ago. However much I would have loved to work there, it would have been too big a leap at the time. The USA adult film market was dominated by close-knit BDSM communities and by the few major companies. My approaches to some of the major film companies had never been successful. Now I was trying again. Hollywood was calling. I had to answer that call.
CHAPTER 28
THE AMERICAN DREAM
I
n the summer of 2013, just six months before the milestone of my fortieth birthday, I finally achieved a lifetime ambition to break into the toughest, the most competitive – and potentially the most lucrative – adult market in the world: the American film business.
This was not Hollywood, this was far better than that. I had arrived in San Francisco to make movies with some of the most creative and imaginative bondage experts on the West Coast of America. Ahead of me lay further film dates with one of America’s most successful dommes in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and filming sessions in a famous BDSM parlour in New York. As my British Airways flight touched down at San Francisco’s modern and stylish international airport, I couldn’t help but think how far, both emotionally and geographically, a lost little girl from a council estate in West
London, had come. From a teenage student cycling nervously through the streets to fulfil my first dominatrix appointments, to an internationally recognised performer travelling by limo in America. I’m sorry to say that it was hard for a moment not to be just a little immodest: I felt that ‘The Bondage Mistress’ had arrived.
My breakthrough had come by not targeting the faceless corporations which control much of the USA film world. Instead I’d concentrated on making personal contact with fellow Mistresses in the US. I wrote letter after letter to the women I genuinely admired, seeking invitations to visit and work with them on their side of the Atlantic. Over time, my persistence paid off and soon I was able to plan my first film trip in the USA. After such a lot of effort, my first night in San Francisco did not disappoint. My London-based camera crew and I were collected from the airport by a film company representative and an hour later we were admiring the astonishing studio premises of the team from the Serious Bondage production company. Tucked away in a quiet residential street to the south of the city, the company produces many of the best bondage films in America. Their two internationally-available websites cater for both fem-domme enthusiasts and, as you would expect in the gay-friendly town of San Fran, to a growing audience of same-sex bondage fans. For a self-confessed, restriction-equipment freak like me this was bondage heaven. Shrugging off the weariness of the long flight, I set off for a delicious meal of Pacific Snapper in one of the friendly restaurant bars nearby and then decided that filming could wait while I had some American fun.

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