content note: this article contains explicit discussion of emotional masochism, consensual misogyny- themed humiliation and degradation play. He made me cry last night. ‘He’ being a man from the internet. He wrote an ad, I answered it. We messaged a bit, our kinks aligned, we had phone sex: it was a lot of fun. We…
It’s been a long old time since I had any serious marks on my tits and I’ve missed it like billy- o. More of this sort of thing, please Universe. Also: I love this bra, but it no longer fits properly! Weight loss is a bummer.
I am trying to write about my most recent experience playing in public with Sir. It’s hard, because it was so intense. There’s so much to write about. Where we are as a couple- just that part is a (very serious, not so horny) post on its own. It’s been difficult recently, very difficult. We…
I don’t know what to write about this week, I say. It’s Sunday, and nothing’s coming, and I’ll have nothing to post. Write about last night, he says. Write about that thick cotton rope. Write about how it felt. How did it feel? Lovely, I say. A bit thuddy? A bit thuddy. We like thuddy.…
I am looking at a photo and remembering the evening I sustained these bruises. Bent over and locked in stocks, the unfamiliar sensation of wood circling my neck and wrists. An audience, standing behind crash barriers, watching as my skirt is pulled up and the flat of his hand hits my arse, and then the…
The stripy vest was sitting deep in the corner of the Drawer of Iniquity, under the rope, cable ties, dildos and dog bowls. The Drawer of Iniquity used to be the Drawer of Forgotten Clothing- the cheap shit bulk buys you pick up and throw in your basket on payday and then never, ever wear,…
I have been watching too much porn lately: I’m pointlessly horny. I text the Adorable Sadist saying I’ve been dreaming all day about him tying me up, gagging me, and then using my mouth, tits and arse for despicable purposes. When I get home he is lying on my bed waiting for me. We…