❝𝗝𝗲𝗻𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗮 𝗦𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸❞

It Pays To Advertise

It was explicit, even for the "newspaper of record" as I call it, but it caught my attention as if the lady who had placed it had reached out from the newspaper and grabbed me by the balls:

EROTIC bondage. Don't knock it until you've tried it with Madam Jennie. My procedure will knock your socks off - only you won't be wearing any.

Call for an appointment, you naughty girl or boy, you.

Strictly NO timewasters.

There was a mobile phone number at the end of the ad and I assumed that Madam Jennie was one of those lovely working ladies who worked from home. That would be important because I try to rule those sleazy, so-called "massage parlours" out of my life.

I thought about it. Female domination has been one of my fetishes for ages - the smell of leather, the slippery sheen of PVC, the idea of spanking, flogging, cock and ball torture. You name it, I've thought about it as I've wanked - but, and I swear this is the truth, I've never tried it.

I glanced at my watch, checked that it was just gone 10 a.m., reckoned the lady might be up and about, so I dialled her number. The voice on her answerphone was, honestly, what won me over. It was haughty, confident, but not off-putting. She sounded in control. And there was a trace of an Korean accent.

All right, I confess, I'm like that comedian character, John Cleese, the Monty Python bloke - I've got a thing about American women. I mean the dolls, not those overweight tarts you see lumbering around K-Marts in middle America. You've got it, the Californian hard-bodied types. And tits - I love big tits.

Anyway, Madam Jennie's recording came on. "Hi, this is Jennie," said this ever-so-sexy voice, "and I'm not here right now, or I'm entertaining someone. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you, promise. Byeee."

Now in cold print it may not look much, but if you heard it you'd say "Let me have a piece of that!" It was a sexy, husky, "Can I fuck you now?" kind of voice, only I don't think she was selling that kind of sex.

My initial reaction was to hang up and try her later, but then I thought what the hell, she can call me, so I left me my mobile number, speaking in my sexiest "Come up and fuck me sometime" voice. I also left what I'd always used in my masturbation fantasies as my "slave name" - I called myself Lisa, because I think it's got a certain ring to it.

I was up taking a shower when my mobile rang - it's always the way, isn't it? And there was this slight Korean accent, sexy as hell, saying: "Hi, is this Lisa? This is Jennie."

I spluttered "Hold on, I was in the shower, I'm grabbing a towel" and she chuckled. Honest to goodness, it was so deep throat sexy I could have creamed my pants there and then, only I wasn't wearing any, of course.

"Don't be modest on my account," she laughed, "you won't need a towel when I've put you in bondage, tiger." And the way she said "tiger", it had a sort of purr to it.

When I'd got myself organised she spoke in a much more businesslike tone of voice. "OK, Lisa, what do you want to know?"

I blubbered something about her ad in the paper, how I was interested, how I'd never tried it, how much was it - and then I just dried up.

"Right," said Jennie, "here's the deal. For starters, I don't take anyone under 35 years of age, they're all after one thing, I don't have to draw a picture, do I?"

I put on a husky, deep, dark brown voice. "I'm 35," I lied, "only because I work out a lot and I'm pretty toned, women reckon I look more like, oh, 28 to 30."

"You'll do fine," said Jennie, as if she was satisfied I sounded "of age", as it were. "Now I operate from my home, it's private, it's discreet, you can park off the street, you'll not be seen.