Kink, Fetish, BDSM & Other Transgressive Sexualities

Reflections on Displays of Ownership

I have of late been thinking about ownership, and the ways in which kinky people signify ownership – such as collaring, branding, etc. For me, collaring in particular is highly nuanced. As someone who enjoys puppy play and definitely feels herself to have an inner pup, collaring can, at times, simply be a necessary part of the play. Puppies, regardless… Read more →

Inverted Aftercare

I have found, as my kinks develop, and I grow up into a (hopefully) more sorted person, that I experience sub-drop less often, and less severely. I still have tearful days every now and then after playing, but they’re pretty rare, and even as I play with my darker kinks, I feel much more able to handle any fall-out. But… Read more →

The User Manual

The personal user manual is an idea I got from Cunning Minx on her podcast, Polyamory Weekly. It’s a great podcast, and I love Minx’s no-bullshit, straightforward approach to non-monogamy. Her own user manual is a great read, and acted as a good model when it came to writing my own. I have actually been meaning to write it for… Read more →

Brutalism

Last week on Bad Porn Club, I mentioned that I have a fetish for brutalist architecture. I’m not sure exactly how we’re defining ‘fetish’ at the moment; some say it’s simply being turned on by something inanimate; for others a fetish is something a person needs (to at least think about) in order to get off. Well, my ‘fetish’ for… Read more →

The Bruise

Daddy took me to the churchyard to kiss me. His lips took mine as they aren’t supposed to; devoured my mouth. Pulled my head back, and dipped into me. Shook me with the shame. It wasn’t enough. In the dappled sunlight the unchaste kisses of his only daughter whet his appetite. His mouth a line. Grin, fierce. Down the stone… Read more →

Submissive, adj.

For four years exactly – from March 2009 to March 2013 – I identified, almost unquestioningly, with the term ‘submissive’, as a noun. ‘A submissive’. That was me. It sat right, it turned me on, it gave me what I wanted, and it represented me in a way I could communicate to others. I don’t know exactly what happened in… Read more →

Three Sketches in London

Sketches: 1. Chinatown Tucked tight in the corner, shadowed in oak, seconds ticked over as his fingers traced my neck. The skin and bones; the nerves and veins. My flesh malleable, caught in the pinch of his hunger. He found the point, below my jaw, beneath my ear. Imprinted the mark of his finger in the hollow. My lips parted… Read more →

The Little Boy Who Lives Down the Lane

WARNING: this piece contains themes of rape, kidnap, and abortion. Please use your best judgement when deciding whether to read on. Standing and wondering, and remembering tears falling from open eyes, like the drops that splash from the ceiling, and dust that showers and sticks to greasy hair, I contemplate the crusted blood. Black at its core, it still might… Read more →