A Slave’s Fifth Week of Being Single

Monday: Checks Fetlife. Finds no requests, not even from a cock shot. Eats a block of chocolate and watches Nymphomaniac Part Two for the seventh time this month. Replays the silent duck scene in slow motion.

Tuesday: Peruses the local personals groups hoping to find a desperate dudebro who might be willing to give a nonsexual spanking. Gazes lovingly at her old collar. Eats salad and feels instantly svelte.


Wednesday: Buys a pair of stilettoes, then cries inconsolably because he will never see her wearing them. Eats a slab of chocolate and washes it down with a bottle of Tequila.

Thursday: Receives a text from the ex saying, “Thanks for the pussy pic you sent last night with the hawt chocolate smudges. My new sub totally got off on it.” Weeps. Screams. Wails. Steals a non-consensual hug from her dog. Eats two slabs of fucking chocolate, one tub of ice cream, and the fucking Lindt bunny she got from the fucking asshole last goddamned Easter. Fucking hell!

Friday morning: Desperately reads seven months’ worth of personals over two bottles of vodka, a bathtub full of Nutella, and a gingerbread house. Googles “where have all the good men gone?” Finds a Bonnie Tyler video instead of an answer, then watches it on repeat all morning because she needs a hero and he’s gotta be strong and he’s gotta be fast and he’s gotta be fresh from the fight. Gets a knock on the door from the neighbours raging about how she could at least change the damn song occasionally if the entire street has to hear it.  Forces the dog to watch TV with her all day.

Friday noon: Receives a bunch of flowers from the neighbour with a card that says, “You are in our thoughts and prayers.”

Friday night: Drinks flive bwottles of wine. Makes a painting of her bloken hart in blud then rites a Fetlife post called “Y Im bisexual nau”. Flasses out in the middle of a Kik converslation with a local bi hotty.

Saturday morning: Googles “Symptoms of alcoholism.” Steals three non-consensual hugs from the dog.

Saturday noon: Checks out ex’s new sub on Facebook, who is apparently Blake Lively’s DOPPELGANGER ARE YOU SHITTING ME??? Spends the rest of the day lying on the carpet listening to the drip drip drip of the tap.

18:00: Writes off kink and love forever and ever a-fucking-men. Spends the rest of the night tearfully braiding the dog’s fur and putting cute ribbons in it.

19:00: Calls the hawt bi girl and asks her out on a date that might just lead to true love and tons of kinky sex.

Three hours later: Lists all the reasons she’ll never shag a girl. Runs out of paper and goes out to get more (while wearing stilettos). Breaks ankle. Limps home. Sings along to an Air Supply tape using a carrot as a microphone.

10 minutes later: Masturbates with the carrot.

Sunday: Wakes up to find the dog hiding behind the couch covered in a curtain. See? Even he wants to abandon her so seriously, fuck him. Feeds him boiled celery and dry pellets for lunch instead of ALPO Gravy Cravers, dresses him in a Lacy pink top and takes him out for a walk in front of the neighbourhood Alsatian, so there.

Sunday evening: Eats the ALPO Gravy Cravers.

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