September 22nd 2024.
As I wait in my car outside a cheap hotel, I can feel the excitement coursing through my veins. It's almost midnight, the perfect time for this type of job. The hotel is tucked away behind a service station, dingy and deserted, just as my client Pete requested. He's a wealthy man in his 40s, willing to pay me £1000 for this kidnapping experience. I know he'll be dressed in a light beige coat and jeans, lurking outside the hotel entrance like a solitary smoker. I can't afford to make a mistake and approach the wrong person.
Of course, there's always the risk of getting caught, but I'm a smooth talker, confident and respectable. If the police were to question me, I'm sure they would understand. I glance through the contents of my bag one more time - handcuffs, a ball gag, gaffer tape, and a hessian sack. My hands are shaking with adrenaline as I take a swig of water and observe Pete pacing outside. I can see the glint of a badge on his lapel, reassuring me that I have the right man. I slip on my balaclava, step out of the car, and quietly approach him from behind.
Kidnapping may seem like a terrifying act to most, but in the world of BDSM, it's becoming an increasingly common request among wealthy men in their 40s and older. It combines elements of sensory deprivation, humiliation, bondage, power play, and punishment into one thrilling fantasy. And for this particular job, Pete has requested that I wear a leather or military uniform to add to the excitement.
I've received many requests for kidnappings in the past two years, ever since I starred in a porn film where I abducted two women and trained them to be my sex slaves. Of course, before engaging in this type of play, there are lengthy discussions about what is expected and acceptable for both parties involved. Pete has made it clear that he doesn't want to be spat on, laughed at, or have anything inserted anywhere. He simply wants to be tied down and brutally beaten in front of an audience, for a crime he has imagined. And I am more than capable of fulfilling his desires.
This type of job comes with a hefty price tag, and Pete has paid me a grand for his kidnapping. As a former member of the House of Commons, now in his seventies, he can certainly afford it. But as I wait for him to approach my car, I can't help but feel a bit nervous. It's a first for both of us. For Pete, it's a way to cope with the death of his wife and fulfill his sexual fantasies. And for me, well, I'll do it again if it means another £1000 in my bank account.
As we discussed, we've chosen a safe word to ensure that we both feel safe and can stop the roleplay at any time. Pete's safe word is 'red'. He doesn't put up much of a fight as I pull the bag over his head, handcuff his hands behind his back, and push him towards my car. I even give him a little kick in the thigh to encourage him. I can see the excitement in his eyes as I push him onto the back seat and whisper, 'Ssssh!' His heart is pounding, and his shirt is twitching. This is a moment he has dreamed of for forty years - a woman driving him to an unknown location, stripping him naked, and caning him until he bleeds.
Welcome to my new column, On Call with Melissa Todd. I'm a sex worker and dominatrix with almost 30 years of experience, and I'm here to share my insights into the psychology of my clients and their desires. In this column, I'll be revealing all my secrets and giving you a glimpse into the minds of those who are willing to pay thousands to have their darkest fantasies fulfilled.
Before we continue, I make sure to gaffer tape Pete's ankles and stuff a ball gag into his mouth. I ask him if he'll give me any trouble, and he shakes his head frantically, indicating 'no'. I remind him that we can never be too careful and proceed to frisk his pockets, finding his phone and keeping it in my bag.
'Consider this insurance,' I say with a sly smile. 'Perhaps we'll even take a few photos of your ordeal later. It's good to know where to send them. And these must be your sister and your boss, correct?'
As I drive past a cheap hotel, I can feel the excitement bubbling within me. It's almost midnight and the air is chilly, but I barely notice as my mind is focused on my target. The hotel is tucked away at the back of a service station off the motorway, the perfect spot for what I have in store.
Pete* has given me specific instructions on how to identify him - a light beige coat and jeans, standing a few feet from the hotel entrance like a solitary smoker. I think I spot him, but I can't afford to make a mistake. After all, this is a risky job.
Am I afraid of getting caught? Of course. My heart is pounding in my chest, but I try to remain calm and confident. I know how to handle myself in these situations, and if I were to get caught, I could easily talk my way out of it. But still, I can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline as I park the car and check my bag one last time - handcuffs, ball gag, gaffer tape, and a hessian sack.
Taking a deep breath, I watch Pete pace under the security light. I can see the glint of his badge on his lapel, reassuring me that he is the right man. I put on my balaclava and quietly approach him from behind.
Kidnapping may sound extreme, but in the world of BDSM, it's actually a common request. Wealthy men in their 40s and older often seek out this type of experience, which combines sensory deprivation, humiliation, bondage, power play, and punishment. And the captors, like myself, often wear leather or military uniforms to add to the excitement.
I've received many requests for kidnappings in the past few years, especially after starring in a porn film where I abducted two women and trained them to be my sex slaves. Of course, everything is consensual and discussed beforehand. Pete and I have had long conversations about what he wants and what is acceptable. He has made it clear that he does not want to be spat on, laughed at, or have anything inserted anywhere. But he does want to be tied down and brutally beaten in front of an audience, for some imagined crime. And that's exactly what I will give him.
This type of play doesn't come cheap. Pete has paid me a hefty sum of £1000 for his kidnapping. But as a former member of the House of Commons, now in his seventies, he can certainly afford it. As for me, I may be nervous, but I know I'll do it again if it means another £1000 in my bank account.
Pete's wife passed away a year ago, and he's been deep in mourning ever since. But now, he has made a vow to act out all of his sexual fantasies, just once. And I am more than happy to help him fulfill them.
Before we begin, we make sure to choose a safe word. This is crucial for both our safety during the roleplay. Pete has chosen the word 'red'.
As I pull the bag over his head and cuff his hands behind his back, I can see that he's not putting up much of a struggle. I push him towards my car, kicking his thigh to encourage him. I enjoy pushing his head down and forcing him onto the back seat, before whispering, theatrically, 'Ssssh!'
I can feel his heart racing as I frisk him and find his phone, which I put in my bag for insurance. I remind him that I may take some photos of our time together, just in case. I even point out his sister and boss in some of the photos on his phone, just to add to the excitement.
And with that, we set off on our journey towards fulfilling Pete's fantasy. But little does he know, it's also a fantasy of mine - to be in control and dominate someone completely. And for that, he's willing to pay a hefty price. Stay tuned for more of my adventures in my new column, On Call with Melissa Todd.
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