Sinister Needs

I will make a habit of things. No, more than habit: ritual. I will ensure every response to me is emphatic, yet prescribed, the motion of deeply internalized praxis.  Continue reading “Sinister Needs”


Summer School

And here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know

“I want you to ‘Mrs. Robinson’ me. Let me be your ‘Benjamin Braddock’,” he smiles coyly, tossing a soft hank of blond hair off his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “Honestly. Teach me.” Continue reading “Summer School”


She sighed and sank back into the pillows of her bed, smiling as he crawled towards her stopping to kneel between her feet.

“Have you really never? Never?” his smile was cheeky and filled with disbelief.

“Never. Not once.” she shrugged and watched his bemused face.

“Wow. Well, do you want to?”

“Maybe … You first.” Her eyes stayed on his as his cheeks flushed. Continue reading “Mutual”

Scarred – Part 2

You can read Part 1 here.

Relocating is tough. There are so many logistical and emotional elements to consider. I was determined though, that I would fish, in what turned out to be a very small pond, of straight submissive-leaning guys on FetLife in my new area code. Firstly there’s the issue of pure numbers. In general, subby guys are few and far between, add onto that a huge percentage of online profiles being out of date or void of any information or photos. Then you have to subtract the guys who post as submissive but then later on their profiles describe themselves as switches or use the classic line: “I’m a very alpha dominant guy, it just takes the right woman to make me submissive.” Continue reading “Scarred – Part 2”


He turns his back to me, a smooth lake of milk, quivering in the moon light. The curtains move in the warm breeze and cast shadows across him, inky blue and fleeting. In my hand I hold an instrument of torture and I mean to hurt him, I do, as he’s begged me to, this man whom I love. I mean to make him break and buckle for me. Continue reading “Cosmic”

I call him Darling, Baby, Hunny, Love

Drowning in the sea of love
Where everyone would love to drown

I have always been one for big thoughts and bigger feelings. I remember finding Kafka, reading about existentialism and I remember it hitting me deeply, striking a true chord: these were the questions I had always been considering, thoughts that had consumed me for my entire young life. Why were we here and for what? Life seems so arbitrary and is made even more absurd by the constant repetitive action of nearly each and every human being trying to find divine purpose, a kernel of meaning, a glint of hope that there is some magical ‘more’ that we can aspire to and find, if only we have the mettle. Continue reading “I call him Darling, Baby, Hunny, Love”


It was a good second date. He was less tentative, less shy, more willing to be taken and led, in conversation and in hand. Unlike the rainy afternoon of our first meeting, chaste and sweet as it was, tonight was balmy, the beginning of the beginning of something that looked like summer, complete with a cotton candy sunset and that hot blooded feeling when your body begins to forget winter.  Continue reading “After”

The Switch

“Darling, will you lace me up?”

She lifted the pale gold waves of hair at the nape of her neck and shivered as his fingers wound around the velvet ribbon crisscrossing up her back. She adjusted the front of the corset, breasts almost toppling out, and exhaled slowly as she felt the definition of the garment shape her torso under his diligent tugs. She could hear the focus in his breathing.

“Are you nervous?”

“About the show? A little.” His voice trembled slightly, betraying his anxiety.

“You’ll be great, you look amazing. So dapper!” She smiled at him over her shoulder and caught his eye. Continue reading “The Switch”

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

“It’s the way you look at me,” he whispered. “The way you look into me. You’re so calm and warm but there’s something else there, something under the surface. That flicker in your eyes, like lightning. It’s primal. You’re primal. Queen of the forest, I want you to hunt me, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Continue reading “Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing”