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.…
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 open the front door, and there he is. He grins his deafening grin, and we are hugging, tight, my arms round his waist, and my face in the curve of his neck. I had forgotten how well we fit together. In the kitchen I make coffee, cut smoked salmon, rattle plates, dither awkwardly. We…
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…