Masturbation, onanism, self abuse. Call it what you will. We all know that it is a mortal sin, morally reprehensible, responsible for the death of many small kittens and a direct cause of blindness. So the next time you feel tempted to “choke the chicken” or “stroke the salami” I suggest you seriously think about purchasing one of these. Commonly used in 19th century lunatic asylums it was a most effective deterrent as you can imagine!
As some of you may be aware, I embarked on driving lessons in autumn of last year. This is one right of passage towards becoming a proper grown up I have been studiously avoiding for years now, after all a car is not needed in London. However, as my weekends take me more and more often out of London and as my Mother has a phobia of driving on motorways and isn’t getting any younger, it seemed like a sensible thing to do. So in September I took the plunge and contacted a local lady driving instructor.
It will come as no surprise to you to hear that in most aspects of my life I don’t hesitate when it comes to assuming the driving seat. However, when it came to taking the driving seat in a literal sense I was quite the quivering wreak of nerves. I have never possessed a boyish enthusiasm for levers and buttons and making things go (I prefer to leave that sort of thing to the chauffeur). Equally, I felt rather overwhelmed by the potential damage that an automobile could do. On my first lesson, I was extremely thankful for my instructor’s calming manner, not to mention duel control.
For a nervous driver embarking on lessons in a central London borough is particularly foolhardy. Even the quietest back streets are rife with white vans being driven by individuals clearly under the influence of an exciting cocktail of stimulants. Not to mention people meandering into the road on their mobile phones without the slightest regard for on coming L-plates.
When you venture onto the busier roads, life becomes even more exciting. Particularly as your learner status marks you out as fair game for superfluous hooting and dangerous over taking in the 20 mile an hour zone (when, I hasten to add, I am already reaching the heady heights of 20mph, in between the speed bumps that is).
I do not let such shoddy and unchivalrous behaviour get me down. I remain calm in the knowledge that karma will repay the impatient shites, particularly when their aggressive behaviour towards one of the innocent lambs of the road results in a multiple stalling incident at the traffic lights.
However, despite my general state of dread, Kathleen, my lovely driving instructor, insists I am good driver. And that though I may tackle the wild roads of Hackney in a state of white knuckled terror, breathing rarely and praying that the number 76 bus won’t actually plough into me, I’m doing all the driverly things I need to do and not losing it (as a rule). We are apparently leaving the 20 mile zone next lesson to venture into the as yet unexplored territory of third gear, so I must be doing something right!
I am sure you will all want regular updates on my driving progress so I won’t disappoint.
I have just written my responses to interview questions from The-London-Mistresses website. I thought they might amuse. Happy Halloween. This is meant to be the time of year when the veil between this world and the spirit world is at it’s thinnest and strange things are afoot. So I suggest you behave otherwise a spanking from Miss Myers might be the least of your problems!
Every Mistress has a different story on how they entered the profession. What’s yours? I found my way into the wonderfully wicked world of BDSM via an ex-partner who wanted to explore the fetish scene. I have always been an open-minded sort so I went along for the ride. After that there was no looking back and Miss Myers was born in February 2010 after I had trained for 18 months, principally with Mistress Eleise de Lacy who now runs the Femme Fetale website.
Has the world of BDSM changed a lot since you started? I think that BDSM has come increasingly into the main stream, largely due to what I like to call the “50 Shades of Grey effect”. The Internet and the presence of clubs like Torture Garden in the mainstream has meant that the world of kinky sex has been emerging from the shadows for a long time now, but 50 Shades has undeniably accelerated this process and played a major role in shifting attitudes towards BDSM.
Scandalised tabloid headlines are slowly being replaced by a titillated curiosity in the Mistress and the Master, dominance and submission. And if attendance by ladies at the workshops I give is anything to go by, the desire to liven things up in the bedroom with a few kinky twists is rampant amongst the females of the species at least!
How would you describe a session with yourself? Do expect, elegance, sophistication, silk stockings, black satin gloves, strings of pearls, exquisite heels, seductive laughter, chilling whispers, cruel twists of fate, soft muted lighting and Turkish rugs. Don’t expect very shiny outfits, shouting, crude insults, abuse of the English Language, set routines or dingy dungeons.
Do you have any BDSM activities that are a particular favourite? Oh do I really have to answer this? I do find this the most tedious of questions and one often asked by clients. There are some BDSM activities I do not engage with and these are listed on my website. However, I do not have a “favourite activity” as such. I am a Mistress of the mind. I want to get inside your head and under your skin. As every lock has a different key, so every client is different. What unlocks a heady world of eroticism for one individual will leave another cold and no doubt just feeling a bit silly. Of course I can put the whip, the nipple clamp, the dildo to expert use. I am highly skilled in all the practical and technical arts of the Mistress, but what will truly terrify you is my ability to get know your deepest, darkest, most deviant thoughts and desires, however hard you might try to conceal them from me….
Do you ever socialise much with other Mistresses? I do indeed. I am very good friends with Mistress Alice Malice with whom I run the Malice and Myers Academy and also with Maitresse Nuit and Lady Louella. I always enjoy going to Pedestal where I am sure to run into lots of friendly and familiar faces. In fact, Miss Malice and I are heading to the spa tomorrow for some much needed TLC. I am sure some of you would love to be a fly on the wall for that event…
What do you enjoy doing outside of being a Mistress? I read a lot and I love to cook. I also enjoy experiencing London’s restaurants, galleries and theatres. Oh and I love finding a bargain in a vintage shop!
What has been your favourite/weirdest gift from a slave so far? I have been fortunate enough to receive some wonderful gifts from devoted and thoughtful slaves including a 1920’s carved ivory cigarette holder and a very early edition of Venus in Furs.
And finally…Latex or leather? A perfectly tailored pair of leather trousers
Gloves or boots? I love both. I simply can’t decide
Spanking or caning? If you are good a spanking followed by a caning. If you are bad straight in with the cane I’m afraid.
Gag or hood? My silk panties in your mouth.
CBT or Nipple Torture? Well perhaps I will start with your nipples and the only way you can make it stop is to beg for me to torture your balls and then the pain in your balls is so excruciating you beg for some attention to your nipples and the vicious circle starts again. Life’s a bitch isn’t it…
St Andrew’s cross or whipping bench? The bench.
Face sitting or boot kissing? My boots kissed tip to toe and licked clean with your tongue. Though a foot massage would be even better.
Poppers or not? I’d prefer not. I think merely being at my feet is quite stimulating enough.
Naked slave or rubberised slave?As nature intended.
Sensual Domme or Mega Bitch? Sweet sensuality one moment and cold cruelty the next. Well I can’t have you getting complacent now, can I?
The debate about whether Islamic women should be permitted or not wear the niqab or face veil, in certain professional and legal situations, has been hard to miss recently. What I found most interesting about this discussion was hearing some very eloquent and intelligent young ladies who have chosen to wear the niqab speak about their decision. One young lady explained how covering herself meant that she didn’t have to worry about buying the latest fashions or looking a certain way, concerns that troubled her friends. She felt that people judged her for her personality and intellect and not the way she looked. Her reasoning made me smile. I became a goth for much the same motivations. A flirtation with the local vampire society, an obsession with Poe and a wardrobe that consisted largely of crushed velvet presented a convenient exit card from all the conventional teenage girl angst.
And perhaps there is some truth in what she said. If we are to believe the media, contemporary female adolescence would seem to be a particularly unappealing concoction of fad dieting, online bullying and body dysmorphia. At least when I was growing up all you had to worry about was the Cosmo position of the week, where as the online world seems to offer an information overload. But is it really that bad? Are there are not many sensible teenage girls out there doing their homework and discovering themselves and the world in their own time?
The young lady speaking about her decision to wear the niquab implied that there was nothing between anorexia, nymphomania and the burqa. Not an unsurprising argument seeing as, since time in memoriam, society’s solution to the thorny topic of female sexuality and desire has been to put a woman in either the Madonna or the Whore box before sweeping the whole uncomfortable question under the carpet.
I suppose I would say, this being in many ways a professional flirt and a tease, but really what is so wrong with what lies between these polarities? With the woman who puts on that dress which she knows looks really great, who leaves the house with her head held that little bit higher, who struts just a little on the way to the tube, accentuating imperceptibly the movement of her hips, who glows a little bit more with every appreciative glance and turned head she pretends to ignore. Is she really asking for some terrible act of violation? And are members of the male sex so Neanderthal that the mere suggestion of a woman as a sexual being will drive them into a state of uncontrolled frenzy? Thankfully, that has not been my experience.
So what do I think about the niqab debate. Well clearly every woman has a right to wear what she chooses without being anyway coerced. And I think there are times when it is right that society demands to see someone’s face, i.e. in a court of law. How does it make me feel? A little bit sad I suppose. Such female obfuscation implies such a brutal vision of female seduction and male temptation, such a denial and degradation of the joy of strutting down the street and for a moment increasing the heart rate of the passing male…
When talking to anyone “on the scene” who you are meeting for the first time the conversation inevitably turns to “so how did you get into this?”
For me, like the majority of people I talk to, my kinky sexuality is just part of who I am. As soon as I discovered this side of myself, in my early twenties, it didn’t take me long to join up the dots right back to my infant school days when I have very clear memories of childish fantasies of catching a boy in kiss chase and forcing him to remove his pants in front of a group of my giggling girl friends. And I think the game I used to play with my best friend when I was on the brink of puberty which involved us in taking turns to be governess and pupil and a lot of cupboard under stairs bondage action (whilst my parents were out) is a clear indication I was on a very slippery slope even at the tender age of twelve!
I thought I would take this opportunity to share with you a couple of images that were very instrumental in making me the wicked woman I am today, which held, for me, a fatal attraction
Firstly, the cover of the Strokes Album “Is This It” which I purchased in 2001. The music is great, but what I was really drawn to was the album cover. Very simple, very elegant and suggestive of a deviant world that fascinated me.
Perhaps a year later I purchased this image as a poster whilst on holiday with my parents in Brussels. It still hangs on my bedroom wall in my parents house to this day. Of course, I now know that the illustration is by John Willie and was the cover of edition 6 of Bizzare Magazine. At the time I loved the stylised elegance and the retro chic of the image, as I explained to my Mum. What I didn’t share was that it was the blind fold, and the subverted sexuality it implied, that really intrigued me…
Last night my good friends Nanny Nogood and Miss Vinci were kind enough to invite me to dinner and pour a large amount of red wine down my throat with a foolhardy disregard for the consequences; namely my obsession for the evening with Men’s Health magazine. I must say, I have never taken a great deal of notice of this publication before, as the target audience is clearly not female lushes such as myself. However, another housemate (of the male variety) had left one lying around and last night, through rioja tinted spectacles, it came under the brutal scrutiny of Miss Myers. Well firstly, I was astounded by the nonchalant chauvinism of the thing. Helpful tips such as:
‘You’ll have sex 1.6 times more a month if you leave “traditionally female chores” to your other half.’
Particularly caught my attention. I would love a man to explain the vigorous scientific basis for that one. Preferably standing in front of me with his pants around his ankles. Otherwise, I was just pretty depressed by the facile idiocy of the publication. I know, know, it is only portraying men as testosterone fuelled morons to even up the balance a bit with all the female “lifestyle magazines” portraying women as shoe obsessed neurotic airheads (well the shoe thing is understandable..) But still; it was pretty dispiriting stuff. However, it did have one redeeming feature. It had some most excellent suggestions for the playroom. For example:
Clean; Swap hands; Jerk; Swap; Squat; Swap; Repeat (12 times)
Now, do you want to tell me again why you think I should do the ironing?