Finding BDSM Mistress, Then and now!

BDSM in the 1990's

Long ago, in the time before time - well 1991 actually, when the internet was still the plaything of the US Department of Defense, and mobile phones were only for city boy bankers, an intrepid young slave set out on a journey of a 1000 leagues.

He was on a quest to find a Mistress who would bring order and meaning to his jumbled and chaotic life. Er…. That should be ‘sex’ life.

How was he to approach this quest ?

Two methods suggested themselves – either by small ads in the contact magazines available from most newsagents – only from the top shelves of course……or – and central London seemed uniquely blessed in this regard – from the business cards left prominently displayed in the public phone boxes – blu-tacked to the glass panes – by the gophers employed by the professional Dommes who worked nearby.

The magazine would have been a more certain route, but I was acting on impulse, or I knew I would act on impulse and I had noted down several of the phone numbers on the cards most persistently displayed.

I called one the numbers and discovered the address was near to Baker Street tube, about a 20 minute ride from work in the city.

That day in London town was typical of October. Grey, dry, not too cold. Unremarkable but yet destined to be momentous.

I hopped on the tube and took the creaking Victorian-era Metropolitan line to Baker Street. The carriage contained every Hollywood film cliché brought to life. Dust, litter. Travellers all lost in their own thoughts. The roar of the tube train as it entered the endless tunnel , the squeal of the bogeys. Gazing out of the window, all that was visible in the tunnel were the layers of dust settled on the power cables cleated to the tunnel wall. The train bore me relentlessly to my destination – though I guessed at it, I did not know it yet – a life of pain and pleasure.

I emerged from the subterranean station and made my way to the address

A basement flat in an Edwardian block, served by a small external staircase. People who are familiar with old London will know these dwellings.

Heart thumping, I descended a small external staircase to the front door. Rang the bell. A pretty girl answered. Foreign from her accent - Dutch or Scandinavian.

She was wearing a basque, stockings and knee-high boots, I handed over the money - £60 I believe (those were the days!). She told me to undress and tied me to what looked like a gym horse.

I viewed her in the mirror as she beat me on the buttocks with a riding crop. It was so exciting it was as if I was starring in my own porn movie. The movement of her hand and the sight of boots meant that inevitably a climax swiftly followed.

It had been everything I expected from a BDSM session. The play-space was slightly seedy, cluttered even, but if anything that added to the thrill. This was real. So it is with some sadness I confess that I cannot remember her name.

Afterwards she complimented me on my ability to take a whipping. The experience more than lived up to my expectation. I soon realised that this was not the end of the journey, but a mere milestone, a way-station on the endless voyage of discovery that became central to my life.

Back to 2020

Now back to the present day. Witness the miracle that is the internet. And laptops. And smartphones.

No professional Domme bothers ‘carding’ public telephone boxes anymore and sadly those A5-sized contact magazines are deceased, or rather migrated online, where BDSM directories abound, albeit of variable quality.

But for your devoted slave, selecting a Domme is so much easier. Websites that are responsive to all online platforms facilitate this hobby – or in my case vocation.

Provided she has been thoughtful enough to publish photos in a gallery on her website, You can see how she looks (important if your fetish is visual), what facilities she offers and what activities she enjoys.

In fact I would say that for a Domme NOT to offer photos of herself in fetish attire is a serious omission. It must hamper her marketing.

You can form an opinion of how the session might go almost immediately. And most importantly, by publishing her contact details, communication can be made discreetly – from your car very probably – no more need to find a phone box.

These advances in electronic communication have created a near-perfect marketing channel for those selling and buying the niche, psychosexual, dramatic experience that is professional BDSM.

Additionally the quality and variety of BDSM paraphernalia has improved beyond all imagination.

Open a Domme’s equipment cupboard today and you will find arrays of sex toys wrought in silicone, some battery-powered. Was there ever a better tribute to electronic ingenuity ?

Cast your eye around. See the electrics, violet wands, sling-frames in powder-coated steel that come ready to assemble, together with power-assisted hoists (a bit more expensive), urethral sounds - executed in gleaming stainless steel – formerly only used by pox-doctors.

These artefacts sit as a tribute to our technological age, such that in 1991 could only be dreamed about.

it is important to realise that for a committed slave, once the BDSM life journey begins it never ends. Each visit to a Domme becomes like a voyage on a tube train, with ever more frequent stops, each halt slightly more exotic than the previous one, as you find yourself disembarking at stations you knew existed from the map, but had never intended to visit.

Although basic BDSM techniques have not changed much over the years – dare I say centuries – people have been much more thorough about recording and codifying these practices – almost from an objective, academic point of view. So we have talk of ‘power-exchange’ and ‘pain-sluts’, to give but two examples.

After 30 years of visiting professional Dommes, I have come to realise that true fulfilment comes from being in an established relationship with a Domme – ‘being in’ basically means ‘surrendering to’ – because only then can a slave hope to fulfil his vocation. And always remember, a slave’s training is never complete, and while that is so, the voyage continues.

BDSM 90's
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