How to stop self-fuckery becoming sabotage

Last night I cried myself to sleep. It was mostly ridiculous but the tears came anyway. I tried to remember the last time I had cried over a man. It was probably Married but it feels like forever ago instead of four months. This year has flown and yet nothing has really happened. I mean,... Continue Reading →

You may call me Mistress: Part 2

Ready as I was ever going to be, I ordered him to the bedroom where I met him with a long kiss. I gripped the riding crop in my right hand and roughly grabbed the cage encasing his cock with my left. I whispered in his ear: “Are you ready to play, my slutty little... Continue Reading →

You may call me Mistress: Part 1

He answered the door wearing his collar, like I’d told him to. A muffled clink gave away the secret beneath his clothes. He’d been wearing the cage around his cock since early that morning, after admitting he touched himself when he woke up. It was now 7.30pm.  I sidestepped around his welcome kiss and put my... Continue Reading →

A gentle domination

Tied to the bed by my wrists and ankles, I was at his mercy. Perhaps I should have been more afraid given how little I knew him. But something about him was innately gentle despite the bag of floggers, paddles, gags and toys next to the bed. He struggled with the restraints, admitting he was... Continue Reading →

Dating 101: Finding a dark horse

A last minute date. Nerves. It had been awhile. The banter, while good, hadn’t been going for very long. An exchange of jokes rather than the banalities of our jobs, the weather ... Still, it was unexpected to find myself at his front door. Even on the drive over I considered texting an excuse. Staying... Continue Reading →

Wanted, enquire within: underqualified men to lick vagina

Imposter syndrome. It’s a HR term most women can probably relate to and I’m guessing most men don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s usually applied to people who feel unworthy or unqualified for positions, even once they are appointed. They are haunted by this syndrome of always fearing they will get “found out” for... Continue Reading →

Latched on and letting go

I was recently reminded in a very loving and gentle way that when you keep making the same mistakes over and over, it starts to piss off the people around you. They love you and all, but it’s that whole “if you keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll always get the same result”. Well,... Continue Reading →

Save a sext, ride a farmer

An unexpected surprise from being back on the dating apps is the past lovers who slide back into your DMs and into your life. A little over two years ago I was seeing the farmer, a super lovely divorced guy a few years older. We dated about six weeks, a true summer lovin’ romance that... Continue Reading →

Spinning in circles

Break ups aren’t easy, even when they are what you wanted. This person who was this huge part of your life is suddenly gone. You have to rediscover your routine, your sleep, your meals. Everything you used to do together is now alone. There’s no one to talk to about your day, no one to... Continue Reading →

The Rock Climber tells me why he loves me

He told me he loved me at three weeks. It fell out of his mouth as we waited for our taxi to take us from the pub to Maccas for late night nuggets. We'd been on it all day - drinking, pinging and fucking. I put it down to an "I love you man" moment;... Continue Reading →

The Rock Climber – Part One

They say that when one door closes, another door opens. After saying goodbye to the love of my past life, again but less spectacularly this time, my door to real happiness seems to have finally opened. It’s early days yet but it has consumed my life for six weeks now. It happened the day after... Continue Reading →

One year on

My Facebook memories kindly reminded me today that one year ago I was dumped via text message by a man I'd been seeing for eight months. A man I practically lived with. Facebook can fuck off. Tonight I tried to get the man I'm seeing to in some way say some small thing to make... Continue Reading →

The endless torment of an adulteress

It had been weeks since I had cried in the shower. Weeks since I had cried about you, or was it months? It feels like only yesterday you were in my bed but it has actually been almost three months. Three months since I told you to stop contacting me. We both knew you wouldn’t.... Continue Reading →

Growing older not wiser

I feel old. It’s ridiculous to say at 35 but I feel my life passing me by and I don’t feel in control of it. I got an MRI today on a bung knee. I have no idea what I did to it originally, way back when I first noticed it in 2017, but it’s... Continue Reading →

All the butterflies are dead

For the first time in a long time … Not a fuck buddy, or a fling, dating that goes nowhere or a string of messages that peter out because we have run out of inconsequential nothings to talk about and the effort of being witty is just all too much to be bothered with. I... Continue Reading →

A metaphor for wilting flowers

I wasn’t going to write about you anymore. I wasn’t going to give you the time. But my thoughts are full and overflowing and I need to make space for new things, new pathways, new experiences, new connections. I need to eradicate the memory of a thousand conversations, the feel of your body and the... Continue Reading →

The heavy weight of words unsaid

A tangle of limbs on my bed. Our breath, that had been coming fast and hard, gradually slows. The skin on the underside of his bicep was smooth against my cheek, my hand thrown across his chest.  It had been so long since we’d seen each other and while the sex felt the same, everything... Continue Reading →

The subtle art of knowing everything is fucked

I usually leave book reviews for my book club meetings but I’m going to make an exception for Mark Manson’s follow up to The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, aptly titled Everything is Fucked. I’m about two-thirds through but something I read has cut to my core and I can’t seem to get... Continue Reading →

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