Signs that You’re Definitely Not a Brat

  • Supergluing his sex toys to the shelf is t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶i̶r̶t̶h̶d̶a̶y̶ ̶g̶i̶f̶t̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶ ̶d̶o̶m̶ ̶d̶o̶e̶s̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶n̶e̶e̶d̶s̶ something you would never do.
  • You definitely can’t push a buttplug out with such astonishing accuracy you can give a top the same black eye in perpetuity.
  • Like, who even thinks of shit like that? G̶e̶n̶i̶u̶s̶e̶s̶!̶ ̶T̶h̶a̶t̶’̶s̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶.̶
  • You c̶a̶n̶ would never wriggle out of a double futo so fast you’re basically Houdini’s cuter cousin.
  • You know that ambition and domliness can’t be separated, which is why you always make sure your boyfriend’s neatly-bundled jute is always obediently wrapped in tinsel constrictor knots.
  • The primary difference between a brat and a true slave is i̶m̶a̶g̶i̶n̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ the ability to remain kneeling quietly when there are Pokemons in the room that need catching.
  • The Slave Position Almanac is ̶e̶p̶i̶c̶ ̶w̶a̶l̶l̶p̶a̶p̶e̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶k̶i̶t̶c̶h̶e̶n̶ the book you read t̶o̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶d̶o̶m̶m̶e̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶l̶o̶u̶d̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶e̶s̶t̶ ̶K̶e̶r̶m̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶F̶r̶o̶g̶ ̶V̶o̶i̶c̶e̶ while lying peacefully in your cage.
  • Your dom spanks you so often you’ve c̶o̶n̶s̶i̶d̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶e̶x̶p̶u̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶”̶w̶h̶a̶t̶e̶v̶v̶v̶v̶e̶r̶r̶r̶”̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶v̶o̶c̶a̶b̶u̶l̶a̶r̶y̶ ̶ started carrying a donut pillow everywhere you go.
  • Why do you get spanked so much anyway? It’s a complete mystery.

Open Letter to a “Master” Who Thinks Subs are Inferior

Some lead and insist others follow. Some have the intellect, drive and energy to be Masters”

If you think we are subs because we’re inferior, you probably lack the insight to be a master. Underestimate your bottom, and you will quickly find yourself slithering to the right of the slash with a bratty stiletto on your back. Disrespect us, and you’ll lose your controlling hand in your dynamic.

You cannot build dominance out of an inherent contempt for submission. Trying to do so is like choosing to build a house out of inferior materials and a shifting foundation. The entire build will disintegrate, proving your strategic mind to be decidedly blunt. It would also be a clue that you’re not as smart as you think you are, and if there’s one habit that breaks down dominance, it’s over-estimating your power.

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Why would you even want to lead someone you believe has less value than you? Do you lack the mastery to lead someone who is your intellectual equal?

I thought so.

Continue reading “Open Letter to a “Master” Who Thinks Subs are Inferior”

Relationships Aren’t a Default Position

All my life, I’ve been a serial monogamist. I’ve consumed boyfriends like cornflakes… day after day after day. I started my first long term relationship at 16. At 21, I began another. Then another, with ne’er a year in between. My last love story was more of a hate story. It tore something in me that took two years to stick back together again with glue, tears, and sellotape. Fix it, I did, though, and that’s when something shifted in my universe.

I began to love my bachelorette years. In my attempt to recover, I picked up all the beautiful things I found along the way and tacked then onto the seams of my life: beach-side living? I’ll take it. Doggo companion? That would be grand. Double my salary? That doesn’t sound bad at all. Time spent with chosen family? Please and thank you.

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My life doesn’t look particularly sparkly from the outside, but for the first time in my life, I’ve built my dream life. In the process, I gradually lost interest in romantic relationships. Happiness is rare, and I have it. Why would I do anything to tilt it out of place?

Continue reading “Relationships Aren’t a Default Position”

The Evaporating Female Libido

Women are built in a magical and complex way. We have G spots. We have clitorises that extend all the way inside us. We’re talented enough to have several different kinds of orgasms as a result. We have an endless array of pleasure-possibilities, and still, people talk about us as though we’re sexually undeveloped. Women can’t possibly understand the girth of the male libido. When we’re not in a relationship, we don’t even think of sex, let alone crave it. That’s why there isn’t an industry for women’s sex toys; why there are no women on Tinder and why there is no such thing as women’s porn. Nobody’s conceptualised a buzzy, battery-operated penis made of silicone, let alone bought one.

Yep. Men are lustful. Women can take sex or leave it. That’s what they say, but I’ve only ever found one man who matched my sex drive. Many of us are the same.

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Men report double the sexual urges of women, but many researchers put that down to women being less comfortable telling the truth about their sexuality.

The same set of studies found that men feel guiltier about sex than we do, and they like casual sex way more. Women are more experimental, and our lust fluctuates around ovulation. We’re more interested in intimacy than men are, so maybe our sexuality isn’t more underdeveloped. Maybe it’s just different.

Continue reading “The Evaporating Female Libido”

Dudebro Breeds Who Really Wanna Fuck

Mr Vanilla

I have an imaginary harem of subs who I routinely water board in my daydreams. I know you like bad boys, baby. Yes, you do. Did I tell you I’m just pretending to be kinky to find a vanilla lay? Let’s fuck.

The Dude Who Likes His Keyboard a Bit Too Much

Hiiiiiii!!!!!!! Letsssss………….. fuck………………..

Mr Consonant

H! Lts fck!

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The Super Dom

I am So Twue. I am Very Master. Wow. I will now lecture you on how the lifestyle is dying because I can’t think of anything else to blame for my slaves leaving all the time. I know you’re dying to fuck me now.

Mr I Definitely Read Your Profile

Stand in awe as I fit your entire profile into my message. Wanna fuck in Cape Town with a jar of Nutella while discussing the genius of Tom Waits and hating on butt plugs?

Continue reading “Dudebro Breeds Who Really Wanna Fuck”

Pain

I like flowers. I like bubble baths and poetry, but sometimes a princess just needs to be reduced to a wailing, shivering mess on the floor. It’s only romantic if you have a bruise at the back of your throat and a shredded swathe of lace over your eyes.

I live between burned wrists and concrete, deep inside the tears. I want to forget my name by the end of the night and be reminded of yours every time I sit down the next day. I need power exchange, but I crave pain. The absence of it is a stone in my stomach. It wears and wears on me.

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There’s something unspeakable in me that is broken by pain. After a hard scene, there is the scent of the soil after the storm. I feel clean as rain. The knot in my head untangles and the stone in my stomach dissolves. This is me at my purest, my inner whore relegated to history, the light of day relegated to the night. The smell of sweat and leather vanishes with the sun, and I’m new.

Scars have followed me all my life. Each one tells a story I’d sooner forget, but here, with you, I become a master of pain. I draw it near. I cry. It leaves. What’s left after that?

Just you. Just me. Just this beautiful soil. Something buried there begins to stir.

Begins to grow, green and pure and alive.

Thoughts of a Vanilla Facebooker Visiting Fetlife

Oh, look! A sexy Facebook! This is going to be awesome!

Feminism, feminism, more feminism. What does that have to do with sex? Are all feminists kinky? Are all kinky people feminists? Does my feminism make me a dominate? What? That’s totally the right spelling <dictionary linky>

Oh, look! A butt diamond. That’s so cute. What do you have to pierce to wear one of those? Are you telling me you put that inside your ass? Hell, no! I’m not gay.

<click> Now there’s something I can support: blowjobs. I don’t mind a fine, kinky blowjob on Sunday nights after tennis myself. Um. Is that penis going all the way down? That just isn’t right. You’re obviously using Industrial Light and Magic to make your videos. I can spot special effects from a mile away, and obviously nobody can fit 10 inches all the way down their throat. It’s anatomically impossible, and I’m checking Snopes for evidence as soon as I’m done here.

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Just help me out for a second because I’m trying to figure out what you all have in common that makes you kinky. Is having blue hair kinky? Because I could totally get behind that. Does not knowing the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ make you kinky? I guess I lose a few kink points for having a Grammarly subscription and knowing how to use it, huh? I do sometimes misspell ‘onomatopoeia’, though. Can I get cred for that?

The only thing I can find that you people have in common is that you all snort coffee through your noses, so I’m feeling a little confused. I always thought you wore leather and studs, but apparently you prefer wearing clothes made of rope. Oh, and amazing shoes! I’ve never seen so many awesome stilettos in one place before. I’m telling my Aunty Barbara to come here instead of Vogue for inspiration in the future.

Look! Another video. <click> A Hitachi! My Uncle Frank bought me one of those for Christmas. Don’t put that there, sweetheart. That’s for giving back massages. Why do you turn everything into a sex toy? Wait… that actually looks kind of hot. I think I’ve just found my kink. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be in my bedroom with my magic w… I mean at the supermarket shopping for groceries.