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There are so many aspects to BDSM one of which is  “Roleplay” which is what this blog and story is about. I was quite shy at school (yes I know that’s hard to believe) and when it came to certain subjects I would hide at the back of class so didn’t belong to any drama class (how silly) as now it’s something I excel in when asked to get involved in this style of play.  However in the playground I used to chase the boys and catch them with my friends and tie them up to the lamp post  in the school grounds with my skipping rope, on one occasion pulling one boys pants down who had previously caught one of my friends playing “knicker chase” certainly not allowed or tolerated these days!

People come and see me for a variety of reasons, one main example is escapism from their mundane and everyday life or that they have high profile jobs and need to let go.  Visiting a Mistress can be very liberating and with so much choice available such as sensual or alternate massage, total power exchange, fetish fun, CP and in some cases the need to play a part and be someone else and have some fun.

The story part of this blog (soon to follow) is written by my client Northee (he wishes to be known as) so you have permission to pop the kettle on, feet up or get on your knees, read and enjoy 🙂

Part one

How dumb was that bad man in the film Thelma and Louise? Louise had a revolver aimed straight at him, and at such close range she would not miss. All he had to do was apologise – a very light sanction considering he tried to rape Thelma. If he had apologised he would have lived. But he had to be clever and retort with a wisecrack. His wisecrack was his death sentence; he barely got out “suck my cock” when BANG, down he went finished forever. If the pursuing police only knew of the full facts of what happened at that car park, then they may have been pursued with more understanding. The story could have ended in a more satisfactory way than seeing them literally driven over the edge.

Similarly, three men would not have been reduced to chalk outlines on a station platform if they weren’t so dumb with Mrs. Gray as the main bad man in Thelma and Louise. And if the detective that called around to question Mrs Gray kept his mind on the job he was meant to do rather than ogling all over her and especially at her shoes, then he wouldn’t have ended up taken down to the ground in a hammerlock, then left prostrate from four vicious kicks with Mrs Gray’s mary-janes bulleting into his stomach and arm. If he did his job right, he wouldn’t have been lying helpless and winded on the ground watching Mrs. Gray walk away casually making her escape.

It started politely and professionally enough at 11 o’clock when the grey suited detective in a Cambridge blue shirt and Oxford blue tie knocked on Mrs. Gray’s door. Mrs. Gray was bespectacled in black attire, black skirt, stockings and gold and black patterned mary-jane when learning he was detective let him into the house.

The detective having introduced himself explained:

“I’m investigating the deaths of three men at the railway station and before they died they all muttered the name Mrs. Gray”.

“oh how shocking, and unusual that its a woman that done it. And you think it was me?”, Mrs. Gray replied with a seemingly sweet innocence.

The detective in a reassuring tone replied “oh no, I am not jumping straight to that conclusion. As you can appreciate because the name Mrs. Gray was mentioned, we have to investigate all Mrs. Grays in the area. Its just routine, nothing to worry about …”, jokingly adding with a mischievous laugh, “… unless you did it of course”.

Mrs. Gray played along with the little joke with an equally mischievous smile, adding “but I couldn’t really shoot them”.

As soon as she said that, Mrs. Gray realised she had just incriminated herself; the men were dead but there had not been any mention of how they died. She was gripped by a momentary fear of arrest, anxiously studying the detective’s body language for the expected confirmation that she was about to be arrested. Instead what she saw was the shoe-fetishist in him come out; he let his professionalism fall to the floor where his mind was absorbed in study of Mrs. Gray’s feet and shoes.

Mrs. Gray initially felt relief that she knew she was safe from arrest, because she knew where the detective’s mind was. At the same time she felt an anger boiling over with him; he was supposed to be upholding the law, and there he was being as pervy as the men she dealt with at the station. But for the moment she was playing it cool with him, biding out of the time until he went. She used his fascination with her shoes to her advantage; when sitting down, she crossed her legs and kicked the shoes up and down, almost hypnotising the detective like the swinging of a pendulum watch in front of a mesmerized animal. A few occasional crossing and uncrossing of the legs, with a head tilt and sweet smile ensured the detective’s mind was never going to get back to the job in hand.

The detective was asking questions but wasn’t paying attention to any of the answers. Having asked the basic questions of background of what work she did and where, and when she travels by train, to which she gave a calm and collected answer, he then just seemingly asked questions to stall for time – so he can continue observing her feet and shoes. Mrs. Gray knows his game; she is going from a bide her time mode to seeking an exit strategy. She felt same from arrest, but now the detective has become a pest.

“Have you got any id on you, … just to confirm who you are?” the detective asks.

“yes, sure, I have a driving licence in my handbag”, Mrs. Gray replies, sensing this is the opportune moment to immobilise the detective and make her escape.

She draws him over to where her handbag is, and manoeuvres him to the spot where she will fell him. She pretends to be clumsy dropping a few stuff hoping the detective goes down to the floor and then she can kick him and make her escape, but the detective was just so engrossed in admiring her shoes, feet and legs, that he was oblivious to it. He didnt do the gentleman thing and pick it up for her. So she required another plan.

Hand on driving licence in her handbag, she takes one glance at the detective posture and alertness. She will use the surprise and takedown move. She catches him by surprise by whipping out her driving licence and putting nearly under his nose. As the detective adjusts himself to be able to study the licence, Mrs. Gray had secured his wrist and elbow, applied a turn to his wrist that bent his arm, and it was behind his back before he knew it. Mrs. Gray had the detective in a hammerlock, unleashing a verbal tirade at him for being a pervert as bad as all the other men she knew.

Tirade over, she pushes him face down on to the floor, one hand on the back of his neck and the other arm securing his arm in a hammerlock. Almost as soon as she let go of him while he was face down on the floor she launched four rapid and vicious kicks on him. Her mary-janes blasted him twice in the stomach like bullets to knock the wind out of him. Then one bullet kick to deaden his arm and one more bullet kick to deaden his thigh.

The two kicks to the stomach area had knocked the wind totally out of the detective and all he could do was lie on the floor for the next 10 minutes grimacing in pain slowly trying to get his breath back. And when he did finally regain is breath back, he found he found he still couldn’t get up off the floor; the dead arm and leg Mrs Gray gave him left him unable push himself up from the floor. He just has to lay there all on his own, smarting that his male pride had been ripped to shreds by a woman.

Mrs. Gray had all the time in the world to walk away and escape to a hideout.

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End of Detective Calls Part One