Mistress Martina's Diary

By Mistress Martina

'Mistress Martina's Diary' is a raw account of working in the bondage and discipline/fantasy sex industry in Perth Western Australia.

For many years Martina kept a diary to help her understand her conflicting emotions as she progressed from a 'vanilla' sex worker to becoming a B&D mistress with her own dungeon of specialist equipment. It is a story of sex workers' camaraderie and how they rally to support each other when a client suddenly dies and later when one of their friends is found murdered. As the women try to make sense of their complicated private lives, Martina lays bare the bizarre requests of her clientele.

From a truck-driving cross-dresser to Silver Tape Man and her slave Ben Hur, Martina gives a no-holds-barred account of what happens in her dungeon. She reveals the psychology of why some men's childhood experiences arouse them throughout their lives and their need for a mistress they trust to fulfil their fantasies.

Throughout her journey Martina questions her motives and meets a client who provides her with the emotional security she needs to continue in her specialised trade. The financial rewards of working in the sex industry are considerable but what price do these women really pay in terms of their personal well-being?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781922409348

Book preview

Chapters

1  ‘I’ll Be Home Soon Luv’

2  The Dungeon

3  Crazy Clients

4  Tricks of the Trade

5  Angelo

6  Rose

7  Keeping Secrets

8Client 1 Truck-Driving Cross-Dresser

9  Six for High Tea

10Client 2 Nursery Rhyme

11  Rose Talks About Sex with her Love and Sex with her Clients

12Client 3 Otto and his Cat

13  The Young Lovers Shane and Tracy Part 1 Listening In

14  Mistress Martina

15Client 4 Bowser the Dog

16Client 5 Henrietta

17Client 6 Belts

18  Girl Talk

19  Monaro Mark and his Wife Silvia

20  Crystal Goes Dancing

21Client 7 Water Boots

22  Crystal and Alex

23Client 8 Gifts for Mistress

24Client 9 Brute

25  Monaro Mark

26  Crystal goes Swimming

27  White Coat

28  Climaxing at all Costs

29  On the Prowl

30Client 10 Rare Like a Blue-eyed Albino Pony

31  Bird’s Eggs

32Client 11 School Helper

33  House over the Road

34  Crystal A call to the Escort Service

35  Where’s Crystal?

36  The Imposter

37  Flowers and Photo

38Client 12 Rope Man

39Client 13 New Persona

40Client 14 Do you really hate men?

41Client 15 Analyst

42Client 16 Opera Singer

43  Rose a Willing Slave

44Client 17 Silver Tape Man

45  Sexually Abused Sex Workers

46Client 18 Dynamite

47  Clients Worry over Health Issues

48  The Young Lovers Shane and Tracy Part 2 Easy Money

49Client 19 Unsatisfied

50Client 20 The Pool

51  The Investigation

52  Pendulum

53Client 21 Caning and Ice

54  Vivian’s Dad Finds Out

55Client 22 Ben Hur

56Client 23 Nipple Man

57Client 24 A Ladder to get Higher

58  The Young Lovers Shane and Tracy Part 3 Someone’s Mum

59Client 25 Young Beauty

60Client 26 Snake Skin

61Client 27 The Chemist

62  The Detective Said

63Client 28 Master Peter

64  Martina

65  The End

1

‘I’ll Be Home Soon, Luv’

THEY WERE NAKED AND LAUGHING ON THE BED, PLAYING WITH each other’s bodies, excited happy, touching rolling one on top of the other with Rose giggling as her 3pm client searched for new delights he’d just paid for. She straddled him, resting her knees above his chest, as he explored more of her intimacy. The extra effort exhausted him, as he gasped to continue for more pleasure. Before reaching his highest climax, they moaned in ecstasy and as he rushed to his orgasmic fulfilment, he groaned.

Rose heard him cough, then go quiet as a gurgling sound escaped from him.

Are you okay? she asked, lifting herself away and turning to see his unresponsive gaze, Oh no! she screamed, and grabbing his shoulders, she shook him violently. Wake up, wake up! she cried, thinking he was having a fit?

Rose grabbed the phone and quickly rang her workmate, Martina, she screamed, come quickly – oh, come right now, something’s really wrong!-

Rose was ringing the ambulance as Martina pulled the man from the bed on to the floor and began resuscitating Rose’s client. When he didn’t respond she hit him once, hard on his cheek, shouting for him to wake up.

Give him mouth to mouth. Martina placed her mouth over the slimy open teeth and blew with all her might into the pale open gap.

Blow again! Blow again! shouted Rose who was still on the phone to the ambulance. Suddenly a strange gushing noise came from the client’s belly. He’s going to puke, Martina shouted, as yellow fluid came out of his mouth. Blow again, begged Rose.

I can’t, I just can’t, cried Martina angrily, distressed at her repulsion. Sobbing, she stood back, as in the distance the wail of an ambulance siren broke the sudden silence. It was like a heavenly trumpet, heralding the arrival of another soul.

The sound of the siren came closer and closer and Martina felt there was nothing to do but leave the scene of chaos with its scent of death and sadness.

Martina was crying as she tore herself away and began walking down the spiral staircase.

I’m getting out of here, the place is going to be swarming with cops. They’ll want ID and names and there’s three girls working here when we’re not allowed to be. Our jobs are in jeopardy now, she sobbed. What a mess. It’s all too much to bear – who was he? she blurted out.

I forgot his name, cried Rose, wiping away tears.

The ambulance stopped outside, the siren ceased. Someone’s father had just departed. Someone’s husband had left too early while lying on a prostitute’s bed, stark naked, all big belly and pale legs with his head hanging over the edge. At his final moment, the highest point, death was there with him as he gasped his last breath his body tingled with pleasure and he died in an unexpected eruption of the last orgasm he would ever have – wanting more, never having enough.

The ambulance officers rushed up the staircase with oxygen and started to work on him but he was gone. Rose’s client was a big man and they had problems getting him down the staircase. The police came and took his clothing and car and while searching his wallet, they discovered he had been a pilot.

The afternoon was cloudy, dull and grey.

I know I’m going to cry a lot, said Rose. "I’ve washed all the linen, opened the windows and sprayed everywhere. This has been the worst thing that’s ever happened.

What about you Martina? she asked.

"Oh, I’ll be ok, I’ve had a good cry and we did try hard to save him.

Did the police say anything about us working in these units Rose? Martina asked.

They already knew, smiled Rose and one left his card, Detective Rodger Fitzgerald, in case we need help. They saw your ads too Martina, in the local paper – ‘Masked Mistress Martina B&D fantasies’. The cops said they knew where all the girls worked. You wouldn’t want to spank him love, said Rose. His gun might go off and he’d come back for another round.

They laughed as the evening crept in and Martina thought of the client coming the next day.

2

The Dungeon

MARTINA TRIED TO RELAX AS SHE CAREFULLY PUT THE BLACK studded mask on her face in preparation for her 11am client. Yesterday had been upsetting not only for her and Rose but for Vivian who worked in the units and her body guard son Shane. In shock after the unexpected death of Rose’s client, they agreed to meet for a chat at 4pm over tea and cake. It’s what they did – watch out for one another as they all saw many strangers every day.

The soft red lights on the dungeon wall highlighted the heavy swords, black chains and the dark wooden stock for your head and hands. In one corner there was a large wooden cross, fixed to the wall, and in the furthest corner a very cold, steel bondage bed with spikes and chains coming out of it.

On the walls were decorated whips and canes, collars, dildos, gags, harnesses and rubber clothing. The mistress was dressed in shiny, black latex rubber. A rubber suspender belt, long latex stockings, right up to her thighs and high-heeled shoes. A lovely soft teddy, shining, glistening, black. Underneath, the brassiere with pointed, hard, firm, little nipples and on her shoulders she wore a long cloak that flowed down to her ankles. Under the cloak was a short mini-skirt, separating the line of the top of the latex stockings, separating the thigh with a small half inch of white flesh, held together with pink suspenders. The short mini-skirt floated around her big hips and wide bottom. Her face was masked and all you could see were her peering eyes and stern mouth as she waited patiently in the dark corner of her dungeon for her 11 am client.

She sat there alone and thinking about the day before, giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to a dying or dead client in Rose’s flat. It had been a terrible shock trying to save that man’s life, as she breathed her breath into him, but it didn’t save him. She questioned herself, had she done CPR on him properly, had she pressed his chest at the right time, could she have done it all better and maybe he would have lived if she’d been more rhythmical with the chest presses?

She thought about his wife, how much shock and disbelief she would be in, crying and confused about his unexpected death.

That, he died on a prostitute’s bed engaged in sex; maybe he didn’t love her anymore?

How could the woman understand and forgive him? It was just sex play for him as he truly loved her and had worked his whole life to care for her and his children. He was a good man just playing for an hour on the way home.

Martina wondered about his children. Would they forgive their dad for a moment of mischief? Surely they understood that he loved them and had simply made a small mistake?

Martina had also suffered grief and loss, losing her first husband to a younger woman. Now her second marriage had also failed, so the ‘black dog’ of sadness and depression made her face that tunnel of grief which we all must walk through.

Feeling heartbroken, Martina had tried to avoid it by wondering what the sex workers who advertised in newspapers actually did.

So how did she get here? How did she become a prostitute anyway? Martina’s sad reflective mood took her back as she thought of how it all began.

After months of thinking about it, she had become curious to know if it was something she could actually do. How much were the wages? The only way to find out was to try it. Still questioning herself, Martina walked into the Perth Vice Squad headquarters with her passport and driver’s licence. She was fingerprinted, photographed and her distinguishing marks were recorded. Martina was now a registered prostitute, at the age of forty-two.

Her career in the sex industry started with a few phone calls to madams and escort agencies followed by several visits to inner city parlours. Martina was directed to a house in the suburbs, close to the railway line which was very hard to find. Eventually, she found herself walking down a corridor to a steel door at the very end where she knocked and entered.

At a table, on which were about a dozen telephones, sat two women. One was wearing a leather coat and a see-through blouse but it was the other woman, the blonde, who asked all the questions.

When do you want to start? Tonight? We’ll have a driver pick you up at eight o’clock.

Martina left, feeling very worried.

When she got home she showered, put on clothes in which she hoped she looked really nice and sat down to wait. It was a long evening. She lay down for a while, waiting as the night became darker and darker. Martina wandered up and down; she smoked and was worried, dreading the night ahead.

At last some light appeared in the driveway, so she walked out of the house, closing the door firmly behind her. As soon as she was in the back of the car she introduced herself to the other lady sitting in the back. For the next ten minutes she couldn’t stop talking but after a while she sat quietly, waiting to see where they were going.

They sped off down the freeway to another suburb where the other lady was left at her booking, to be picked up again an hour later. Martina watched all this with interest, especially when the lady got back into the car and without saying a word, handed the driver money – now it was her turn.

The driver stopped the car in front of The Merlin Hotel. Martina had her instructions and with apparent confidence, went to a room on the second floor. Half an hour later, after quick straight-forward sex with a young sailor, she was back in the car, flabbergasted and surprised at herself.

So the night continued; first one, then the other, being dropped off and picked up, one place after another. Before she knew it, it was 5am.

Martina’s house was very quiet in the early morning light when the car took her back home. The driver gave her a large amount of money.

Is all this for me? she asked.

Yes, he said. See you tomorrow – you did very well.

She went to bed, feeling guilty and surprised at herself. The unbelievable night had come and gone so quickly. The unimaginable doorway had been opened and she had walked through in only a matter of hours. Looking at the money made her feel better but when she looked at herself, she felt terrible.

3

Crazy Clients

IT WASN’T LONG BEFORE SHE DID AWAY WITH CHAUFFEURS AND began driving herself to clients. Under instructions from the escort agency and with the help of her new car phone, she was sent all over town and got to know the streets and hotels like the back of her hand. The unsupervised work also meant being alone with strangers with no instant back-up help.

Martina would visit two or three clients in a day and one day she arrived at a large house. After entering and chatting for a short while, she got the flow, mood and personality of the client – a real Australian roughneck who said ‘fuck’ over and over again.

She left me, he said to Martina, went back to the Philippines. I’m gonna have her killed. I’m going back to the Philippines next month – here’s my ticket.

The sinewy, sinister man leapt up and showed her an airline ticket.

I might not have her killed, he said but I bloody well feel like it. I’ve been with her for seven years and she just jumped on a plane and left me.

He was very angry and swore a lot.

Do you want a beer?

She had a beer with him and listened to his story.

When I get there, I know exactly where she is. I’m going to get my mate to drag her out and I’m going to throw her on that plane and bring her home. She’s a bitch for leaving me.

The house was full of Philippino things and the lounge room had wooden horses and pictures of Philippino flowers.

He was an ugly, aggressive man, very mean and Martina was relieved to go.

Cindy from the escort agency then sent her to the Hilton to a man in his sixties who referred to himself as the one hundred year old.

He spoke at length about his tours and travels and said she was wonderful. The man kept flicking a small knife around, a pocket knife, while they were sitting at an immense table overlooking sweeping views of the city.

He wore a white tailored suit and fiddled with his pocket knife. He opened it and closed it, spun it around, spun it back, put it back in its packet, took it out again, spoke a bit more, jumped up and got her a drink, sat down and continued to fiddle with the knife.

Martina was glad to get out of there.

The winking car park attendant stood next to the Hilton’s big rotating glass doors. He had a black moustache and gave a big smile, as she ran across the road and into the distance.

That’s men everywhere, she thought.

Back at the agency office Cindy had another client for Martina. Go to Green Estate at 6.30pm.

Martina drove fast down the freeway to a dingy house in the suburbs, where a softly spoken Italian man with gold medallions hanging from his neck was waiting.

I know people in high places, said the Italian. I can get her put away with one phone call or I can get her kneecaps broken.

Oh..! Another angry man, thought Martina, feeling scared.

Somebody ran into the back of my car the other day and I nearly had him put away too. She wants half the house and I’ve got to find $50,000, he explained to Martina, who was already reeling from all the spinning knives and women running back to the Philippines and now here she was with an Italian with gold necklaces who was just about to call in The Godfather himself.

Would you please stay here while I get organised? she asked. After seeing the wife’s jewellery strewn over the dressing table, there was no way Martina would leave herself open to being accused of theft.

The man stood there and watched as Martina got ready.

She works as a nurse, he said and I have to find $50,000 to buy her out. I won $50,000 a few weeks ago on that TV show. Did you see that TV show? But I had the Monaro done up and I had all the landscaping done and I only have $30,000 left now. I may as well go and get a loan, he said, telling her all about his financial arrangements.

The hour passed quickly, she wished him well and left.

Martina then drove down the freeway again, glad to be out