Modesty and the London Escort Girl

Fantasy is such a powerful emotion isn’t it!!! The following story is based on a long-standing fantasy of my own, rekindled . . . in fact I should say re-ignited . . . by a recent email.

I giggled at the first in-box message of the day . . . “Could you teach me to be a Dominatrix” it read.

I’d had similar messages before of course, despite only recently embarking on my own journey into the world of FemDom.

I politely replied: “Thank you for your message. But I am new to being a Dominatrix myself . . . and still learning things with every new session . . . so I am probably not the best person to teach a newbie as well. It would be better for you to find a much more experienced Mistress to help.”

I continued on, working my way through the rest of the mornings emails, but within minutes a reply to my message popped back-up on my screen.

“No, I think you would be perfect” it began. “I’m working as an Escort for LondonEscortGirls4u and I want to add more variety to my services. You make everything on your blog seem like such fun. Even from behind your mask, or your sunglasses in your pictures, you look like you are always enjoying the things you do.”

It’s always nice to receive flattering comments and messages, but I knew from past experiences over the three years of Modesty Ablaze, that one shouldn’t take such praise on face value. Sometimes the motive behind such flattery has been something I have not wished to encourage!

But there was one thing about this email that stirred a spark of interest and curiosity within me. Her words “I’m working as an Escort” sent tingles of excitement through me!

For as far back as I can remember, hearing whispered comments of “she’s one of those Escort Girls” or reading scandalous newspaper stories of “The Minister and the Escort Girl”, I’d been intrigued and excited. The reactions of all of those around me, parents and girlfriends, was always one of shock and distaste. But for me, the naughtiness and the scandal, stirred entirely different feelings. Instead of disgust I yearned to know more. The mystery, the glamour and yes especially the sexuality, of those stories always left me tingling . . . imagining and desiring to perhaps be part of that world. Wined and dined at the finest West End restaurants, spotted in my heels and the very latest of outfits from the most expensive of boutiques, being whisked off on the arm of a wealthy city banker or stockbroker to the most exclusive of nightclubs. And now here, all these years later, was someone who really was living that life . . . if my email was to be believed.

I followed the link to the Gallery page in her message and scrolled until I found her. The portfolio of photographs were model-perfect. What could she possibly want to gain from becoming a Dominatrix I wondered.

I re-read her email and noted her mobile number was different from the contact number on the website. I decided to dial . . . after all I could block my caller-id . . . just to see how genuine this message may be.

“Hello” . . . the soft tones were unmistakenly female as my call was answered almost immediately it began to ring.

I introduced myself as “Mistress Modesty” and began gaining in confidence as our conversation progressed. Within minutes we were exchanging experiences and stories, giggling and laughing as if we were old friends. I had no hesitation in accepting her offer to meet the following day for coffee at a bar in Mayfair that we both frequented regularly . . . joking that perhaps we were already on nodding terms.

Try as I might, for the rest of the afternoon, I couldn’t stop thinking about my Escort Girl fantasies of old. And I excitedly recounted everything I could remember about our conversation to Hubby as soon as he arrived home
that evening.

“I imagine she’s every bit as excited about tomorrow as you are” he said.

“Oh no” I replied, “she has a client tonight”.

There was no mistaking her . . . sitting at a table near the door when I arrived . . . somehow more real and natural than in her photographs on the website. Her perfectly styled hair and those friendly, confident sparkling eyes, made me wonder if her meeting the previous evening had actually been quite a short one, she looked so fresh and relaxed.

We were soon engrossed in further exchanges of our life-style experiences, both different and yet similar in so many ways. She explained just how many roles she needed to embrace to make her the perfect companion for her hosts . . . and I explained mine.

We’d been chatting for over 30 minutes when I felt her eyes gazing more and more intensely at mine as I was speaking . . . and then felt myself stammer and stop in mid-sentence as she slid her hands across the table to softly curl her fingers around my own. “You are enchanting” she said, “I think we have so much in common, you and I”.

I tried to look away, tried to pull my hands back as she gently squeezed them. My pulse was racing, my heart beating.

“I’m still not sure I can teach you anything about being a Mistress” I tried to say, sensing that sudden change between us.

“We can teach each other darling, I’m sure” she almost whispered in reply. “Modesty at LondonEscortGirls4U . . . how does that sound?”

To be continued . . . obviously!!!

Xxx – K