Since finding myself single, I have worried a little about how this blog will influence the impression potential submissives have of me. It is not that this is not the ‘real me’, and in fact one of the loveliest compliments I received from my boy was ‘you are exactly how you come across in your writing’… I am gratified by that, a little relieved to know that I didn’t create this ‘persona’ for myself, happy to know that this is not misrepresenting me, glad that this is not a picture of how I *wish* I was, or how I *want … Continue Reading
I have had, largely, a bad year… that is dramatic and ‘woe is me-ish’, but it’s true nevertheless. Some of it I have shared here, some of it I haven’t because, frankly, whining and carrying on is no fun… mostly it is not interesting to write about and I have no doubt that it is not interesting to read about.
I use this blog as a way to take a moment out of the mundane and to bring into the light those snippets that strike me outside of the day to day. They are not always shiny happy moments, but … Continue Reading
My D/s relationships include punishment. Not ‘funishment’ which is playing at punishment for fun (“Naughty boy!” *giggle* Thwak! etc), but punishment… a penalty for getting something wrong.
Punish –verb (used with object)
to subject to pain, loss, confinement, death, etc., as a penalty for some offense, transgression, or fault: to punish a criminal.
to inflict a penalty for (an offense, fault, etc.): to punish theft.
Ok… not death, obviously (did that need saying? Of course it did!), and I don’t use corporal punishment because that’s too close to play for me. I mostly make him do boring, tedious tasks that … Continue Reading
On my way to work on the train, he was maybe 40, fit, a little rough, with a strong imperfect face, unconventionally beautiful and serious, wide jaw, furrowed brow, a shock of thick dark messy hair. I stared at him, sunglasses on, I watched him. His face came alive as he talked to a little girl, became sweet, gentle, soft smiles. He had much-regretted tattoos, mostly hidden under his sweatshirt, occasionally he looked my way, once locking on, not really with interest, mild curiosity. I didn’t look away, staring rudely, … Continue Reading