August 2003

My Life as a Dominatrix
Dear Jane,

My name is Steve. I have to say you are one of the most beautiful, thoughtful, sexy, and intuitive women I’ve ever met. Yes, we have actually met in person.

I was a graduate student and you were the first and most incredible mistress I’ve ever been with. Since we were together some nine years ago, I have been with about 20 pro doms. None of those sessions were anywhere near as satisfying as my session with you.

If you don’t recall, it went this way; I remember like it was yesterday: You were dressed in a stunning black PVC dress. Before we got going with the session, we sat down and leafed through some magazines you had (Leg Show, Secret, O); you asked me if I was attracted by any particular images.

I pointed out a tight satin dress. You asked me why I liked it; I explained it probably went back to my childhood of caressing a silk-lined blanket. And that I had a girlfriend at one point who often wore a tight spandex dress that she’d often wear during sex. I let slip that one time I wore it when she wasn’t around and pleasured myself.

I guess that’s all you needed to hear. The next thing I knew you were applying a beautiful pink lipstick to my lips and had me wearing five-inch red heels and a frilly night dress. I never mentioned I was interested in cross-dressing but you were amazing! It was really exactly what I wanted.

What was most amazing was that I felt absolutely no embarrassment whatsoever. During our session you gave me the privilege of lacing your incredibly sexy thigh-high black boots and licking them clean. You looked incredible! You put me over your knee and spanked my ass because I couldn’t help but wander to your nylon-clad thighs with my tongue when cleaning your boots.

I don’t want to waste your time reliving every detail . . . I just wanted you to know it was one of the most positive and satisfying experiences of my life. I will always remember it and I think of it every day.

I am now married with one daughter living on the East Coast. You made me realize I need to be dominated from time to time. This, unfortunately, is something I don’t think I can share with my wife. It’s something I need to do on my own, in secret.

Should I reveal my perversions to my wife? This would be a challenge for sure and I’m not even sure it will ever happen. I seem to go through phases. Sometimes I’m obsessed with my fetishes and sometimes they are comfortably repressed. There’s a burden in keeping this secret but I’ve come to accept it for now.

Seeing a mistress two or three times a year is just something I need to do to keep a proper balance in my life. So . . . I look forward to getting dressed in tight slutty clothes, wearing makeup, and having a mistress bend me over and take me with a strap-on. Most of the time I close my eyes and imagine it is you.

I recently purchased a copy of Leg Show, saw your column, and had to write. Your thoughts on whether to share this with my wife would be appreciated; I really want you to know that you are an amazing woman. Your slave forever,

Steve

Dear Steve,

Yes, sweetie, I remember you. You were the first—and only—man I ever saw professionally. I remember that you called a few days later requesting a second visit. The reason I didn’t see you again had nothing to do with you; you were a magnificent plaything, so very handsome and eager to please a woman (which you did quite agreeably and I thank you). I gave up my short-lived career as a dominatrix because I realized I didn’t care to earn money by sharing a piece of myself that is so integral to my sexual being.

You and I never had intercourse, but the intimacy was more intense than if we had. We both were doing something we’d never before tried: You were sharing your secrets; I was sharing the core of myself with someone I’d only just met and taking money for it.

I wonder if one reason you remember our time together so fondly is because of the realness of the exchange. I responded to you and tapped into your secret desires as one lover does another: with acceptance, trust, sensitivity, and caring. And you responded to me in kind, giving me the gift of your true self. We took joy in each other’s bodies, yes—you wanted to please me as I wanted to please you—but it was more than this: It was a meeting of the minds as much as of bodies. Both of us ventured past the place where walls usually stop us.

And, ideally, isn’t this what we do with the person we love most? To keep this aspect of yourself apart and separate from your marriage is to not be fully known. How can we be accepted if we don’t allow ourselves to be seen . . . Ultimately, every one of us wants to be accepted not in spite of our desires, but because of them. I also feel you’re robbing your wife of the opportunity to see you, kinks and all; even if she’s not fully understanding of them, she deserves the chance to know and accept them. Of course, acceptance starts with self-acceptance; it’s terribly difficult to share something we feel is innately unacceptable even to us.

Each of us feels at risk when we reveal ourselves to another. But look at what happened when you bared yourself to me . . . You were taking a chance when you agreed to step into a pair of my silky panties, weren’t you? You could have protested, backed away, insisted you “just” were into boot and foot worship (which is what you told me over the phone when you arranged the appointment). But you took a chance—and it paid off. You showed yourself to me in your most naked form: as a man who loves to walk on the wild side (in my panties and heels, ahh!). And you were rewarded with liberation.

Listen, Steve. Getting advice from someone is only a first step in finding your truth. The value of advice is in having a sounding board and getting additional information; advice gives the seeker of it something to think about. Ultimately, it’s you who knows the path you must walk.

I could understand your making a compelling argument right back at me: That a person’s fantasy life is sacred. That private thoughts and deeds don’t have to be or need to be shared with anyone—and, in fact, is saucier when there’s secrecy to add fuel to the engine. That not everyone is equipped to deal with unconventional (please, doll, stop with the word “perversion” already) sexual tastes, least of all your particular wife. That the stability of your current life is not worth rocking the boat over. Etc., etc.

I simply urge you to recall the gifts you received when you unlocked your secrets inside my home way back in graduate school. Further, consider that it probably was a wonderful experience because the woman you were with (lucky for me it was me!) was someone who shared something very real about herself (so real, in fact, that she realized she only wanted to share herself intimately with a man she loved and not for payment).

Well, today that woman is someone who knows the best of you and the worst: your wife. Believe me, sweet one, to have fantasy fulfilled at all is exquisite; with love, it’s even better. I’d like to hear from you again, Steve . . . In fact, I’d love for the next letter to come from your wife seeking advice that begins this way: “My dress is so tight my husband can hardly breathe. . . .”

Fist-Weary
Dear Jane,

In December I had my twenty-first birthday and still have never had a girlfriend, never had sex, not even a hand job, and outside of magazines and videos I have never even seen pussy.

I wouldn’t say I’m unattractive. I have about a six-inch cock. I think my problem is that I need an aggressive girl but I don’t know how to find one.

Please help. I’m tired of going home and fucking my fist every night while my friends go home and fuck their girlfriends. It’s long past the point of pathetic and is getting to the point where I am almost starting to consider a prostitute.

P.S. I saw some pictures of you in Leg Show. You got some nice tits and a great ass. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

Mike

Dear Mike,

I understand your pain, sweetie. Who wants his right hand as his regular Saturday night date? Also, I have the feeling that your desire to have an “assertive” woman is about wanting all this to be easy. It isn’t. That’s why it’s so incredibly worth the trouble.

First, consider changing your mind-set. You describe yourself and me both in terms of our sexual parts . . . I’m T&A and you’re a large cock. I know you mean your words as a compliment, but women don’t care to be reduced to their parts. They also don’t care about the size of your cock; that’s not a selling point.

You might have more success with women if you thought of yourself as a good listener and an aficionado of music (or whatever your passion). And I, as a woman, might be more receptive if you thought of me as an attractive woman who cares about the people who write seeking advice.

Next . . .How do you relate to women? It requires some self-confidence to flirt; if you don’t have much, fake it. Flirting is about conveying your interest in a woman playfully, assuming that she has every reason to take interest in you. The power of flirtation is your focus on her—her interests, her job, her hair, her laugh (please, not her knockers)—instead of trying to wow her with all you’ve done.

The next time you find yourself in mixed company, make eye contact with a woman you find appealing. Don’t leer, but a passing glance won’t do, either.

Use pauses in the conversation to smile at her. All humans respond to a friendly face. You’ve succeeded if she looks at you while sustaining a smile without looking away. Our pupils automatically enlarge when we find someone attractive and vice versa. Look for this signal.

Women love conversation (or, to put it in terms you’ll clearly understand: the way to her pussy is via her brain). Focus on her—interview her. Listening builds trust and is intensified through direct and sustained eye contact. And body language . . . don’t fold your arms in front of you; lean forward to indicate interest.

Whatever you do, don’t glance at other women while you and she are talking. Also, fleeting touches intensify the flirt. They must appear to be incidental and unintentional. When you stand to go for drinks, rest your hand for just a moment on her shoulder as you pass her.

Finally, try not to develop a complex over your virginity. You’re just saving yourself for Ms. Right (although I know that Ms. Right Now would be fine, too). Complexes kill sexual attraction. Confidence attracts women. Don’t think that reading about sexual acrobatics in Maxim and FHM will do you any good. A fulfilled love life (or even simply getting laid) doesn’t depend on mastering technique, but on the degree to which you are receptive to, respectful of, and genuinely like women.

Jane is the owner of X-traordinary Talk! and can be found on the Internet at www.xtratalk.com. Ask for Jane’s advice on any aspect of fetish sexuality by e-mailing her at jane@xtratalk.com. “Advice to Boys Who Need It Bad” is a registered trademark of X-traordinary Talk! Please note that Jane’s advice is from the viewpoint of a caring, softly dominant woman; it is not intended to replace professional therapy. All questions are “real,” although may be edited for length.

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