Saturday, 1 June 2019


It's been too long since I last participated in Sinful Sunday, mainly due to lack of inspiration. This week I decided to ask Twitter in a series of votes what my picture should look like. The winning choices were; on a four poster bed, kneeling, wearing nothing and from behind. Here's the result (I added the flogger just for the fun of it):

The prompt this week was 'Soft focus', which is a happy coincidence as, just like the one above, I love to use this technique (during the editing process). See what other talented photographers have done with the prompt:

Sinful Sunday

Saturday, 4 May 2019

Punishment porn

Porn can be such wonderful fantasy, but I think it's even better when inspiring me to re-create certain scenes. It has become especially useful when needing to think of imaginative punishments for my sub (OK, I really don't like calling her 'my sub', from now on she's 'K').

K is a brat and in need of frequent discipline. She enjoys being spanked far too much, plus this is an activity which is just too blatant in a house which she shares with several others. I'm not sure I can face her housemates again having just doled out a particularly loud punishment.

I love ABBA. K really, really does not. I still smile at the time I tied her up in a room and left her to listen to ABBA's greatest hits. That was funny. It would also get a bit dull - the best punishments are the ones where I get to enjoy her body.

Step up kinky porn. Inspired by a recent video, and needing to discipline K yet again, I had her strip naked and start reading out loud from her thesis. Whilst she did this I held a vibrator against her, just as I'd seen that adult actor do. Just like the actor who was on the receiving end of the toy, K quickly began to stumble in her reading.

The rule was that she had to complete a paragraph without interruption. Not easy when intense vibes are stimulating your clit. She gasped, she groaned, she came. I did not relent - this was a punishment.

Eventually she managed to rush through a paragraph without stopping. Punishment over. I laughed as she narrowed her eyes of me, I'll have to use that one again. Thank you porn!

Tuesday, 23 April 2019


There are now more than a few NSFW pictures of me out there on the Internet, mainly courtesy of this blog. There are also a fair few pictures that have remained unpublished, leaving me with an archive of nakedness that stretches back several years.

Occasionally I'll dip into this archive to share a morsel of me with an appreciative recipient. My body hasn't changed so much over those years that I'm particularly different from my first nude and so I don't believe I'm selling a false image.

Looking back on long-forgotten images can feel as though I'm looking at an entirely different person. I'm much kinder to that person than the one I see in the mirror - a lesson, no doubt, in body positivity.

Tuesday, 9 April 2019

A very erotic night

She couldn't remember our safe word and so instead yelled "safe word!". "Red?" I asked her, whilst pausing what I was doing and unsuccessfully stifling my laughter. "Yes," she gasped, "red!".

It was a very erotic night, intensified by weeks of flirting. She was delighted when I called her my 'toy', my 'plaything'. When one erogenous zone had been exhausted I moved on to the next. She gave her whole to me, melted into pure submission when I graced her with a 'good girl'.

There's a long list of punishments she needs to serve, a result of me being away for several months and of her having a bratty side (that enjoys being punished). Spanking is much too pleasurable for her and so doesn't work as punishment. Instead I held a vibrator against her, making her read out paragraphs in an essay and not relenting if she gasped or hesitated. Only until she'd clearly completed a paragraph did I remove the toy. A tough and punishing task - perfect.

I poured my lust over her, revelling in the visible and audible signs of her ecstasy. My tongue still aches. She was eventually put to use on me and my pent-up desire soon spilled over my stomach.

The evening had begun with her modelling some new dresses, I then gave her butt a thumb-digging muscle massage. The evening ended with her receiving a considerably more gentle massage, before she fell asleep naked beside me under the covers.

In the morning we parted. Hours later we exchanged flirtatious messages. The process starts again...

Monday, 25 March 2019

Pornographic echoes

When I close my eyes in the dying minutes of the day I can picture her perfectly. My memory's gaze
travels her nakedness; rising up over her exquisite breasts, descending along her curvaceous side then indulging in a look at her pert behind or the delights between her labia.

Over the 17 years we've been together I've become entirely familiar with her beautiful body. I'm also blessed with a photographic memory and so it takes little effort to sit myself in front of a recollection showreel of her nudity.

As my mind ogles the love of my life, it also begins a checklist of where I'm going to to touch her when we're back in one another's undressed presence. First; her neck, then her slim shoulders, down to greedily take handfuls of her breasts then along her delicate back to rest on those soft buttocks.

Her physical self is considerably more fun to play with than the mental images I cast. But, until I have her in my arms again, she offers up her nudity to the pornographic echoes of my mind and there - like in real life- she becomes my plaything.


This is my first ever submission to Masturbation Monday. Having read and seen others' contributions for years I highly recommend that you click the button below and enjoy some fine writing and photography:

Masturbation Monday

Sunday, 24 March 2019

For her happiness

A non-erotic short story that I just had to get out of my head.


Wet and shiny, his spent cock slid easily from her sated cunt. Seeking out her glistening lips with his fingers, he lovingly stroked her there, a look of regret upon his face. Kelly laughed that joyously musical laugh, joked about sex making him sad. 

She didn't know how very sad he actually was right then. He placed a smile upon his face and forced out a laugh, wanting only for her to be happy. She so rarely laughed nowadays.

Whilst she was in the shower he took her phone and - chest contracting in pain - departed.


He saw Tom across the room and was immediately reminded of the sea. Rhythmic waves, squawking gulls, fishermen's nets. Even that briny humidity seemed to reach his nose - not just because he wore a weathered tan and thick navy sweater.

Of course, he knew this man was a sailor. In fact, his life was heroic; a volunteer on the lifeboats, popular teacher in an inner-city school, loving and generous uncle. Combined with dashing looks, he was perfect. For her. 

Paul had conducted a lot of research on this man. He had to; he wanted to be sure about this. Kelly entered the busy pub and Paul withdrew behind a pillar.

"Are you Tom?" Kelly asked the handsome man.
"Yes, you must be Kelly."
"I am! Thank you so much for rescuing my phone."
"My pleasure, it was smart of you to get your friend to call it."
"Where was it?"
"Well that's the funny thing. I found it on the roof of my car."

Tears began rolling down Pauls cheeks. He had been right. Tom was perfect for her and she perfect for him. She would be so much happier with Tom, much happier if she were no longer Paul's girlfriend. 

Paul exited the pub unnoticed, customers outside wondering at the story behind his distress. The last he ever heard of Kelly was that uplifting laughter through the pub window - sweet music that he would never get to experience again.

Thursday, 14 March 2019

Eroticon 2019 Meet & Greet

I will be attending my third Eroticon this weekend, here's my Meet & Greet:

NAME (and Twitter if you have one)
Olly aka Starcross (@LoveLustLondon) aka my pen name Franklin Mercer 
Tell us 3 things you are most looking forward to at Eroticon 2019
  1. Learning from the experts.
  2. Catching up with old friends and making new friends at the social events.
  3. Exploring new opportunities for my fledgling marketing and copywriting business.
We are creating a play list of songs for the Friday Night Meet and Greet. Nominate one song that you would like us to add to the play list and tell us why you picked that song.
The Scene Between by The Go Team. This is such a joyous, energetic piece of music which I hope will reflect the mood on Friday night.
What is your favorite item or book you’ve purchased so far this year?
Snorkelling kit which allowed me to experience the underwater world in the Galapagos and Caribbean for free.
You can have an unlimited supply of one thing for the rest of your life, what is it? Sushi? Scotch Tape?
Travel vouchers.
What is your favourite quote from a movie?
"I still believe in paradise. But now at least I know it's not some place you can look for. Because it's not where you go. It's how you feel for a moment in your life when you're a part of something. And if you find that moment... It lasts forever." - Richard, The Beach
What is your word suggestion to next years Eroticon anthology?
Complete the sentence:
I feel…
...overwhelmed at the idea of returning to the UK the day before Eroticon begins

Monday, 11 March 2019

Beef Encounter

Last year I was (dis)honoured to win The Other Livvy's joyous Euph Off competition. Here's my embarrassment of an entry for this year:


It had been a slow day on the deli counter. Pamela fondled her pickles, absent-mindedly wondering when she'd next have a man along to sample her meaty goods. She couldn't resist a glance at Ray.

Ray. He dominated the butcher's counter like a greasy sultan overseeing his harem of pink wobbly flesh. Oh how Pamela wished she could be that fillet expertly handled by his latex-clad man hands.

It may have been the curl of his Cumberlands. It may have been the chunkiness of his chops. Whatever it was, it was obvious to Pamela that Ray was in the mood for her tender loins.

"Take my number," he pointed at the ticket machine, "you're next in line."

Pamela realised he was talking to her. She felt a buzz in her bhajis and lustfully bounded over to him. Her nipples were like olives. Greek olives. They were massive - and slightly shrivelled. The amorous counter Cassanova took Pamela into the cold storage room where they began to scan each others' items.

"Crikey, what a spicy chorizo," he growled as he ogled her wares, "care for a taste of my love sausage?"
"Oh aye, I want it in me steaming blancmange tunnel,"

Pamela's feminine snuggle bags rebounded off of a stack of frozen giblets as her loin-loving Lothario bent her over so that she resembled a midnight reveller upchucking an evening of two-for-one screwdrivers. After a determined and ultimately successful penetration, his scotch eggs began banging against her rump steaks, his chipolata flourishing into a shiny saveloy.

"Eeeeeee! Ooooooh! Aaaaaaa! Stick it right up me chuff!" Pamela lovingly uttered.

Ray started grunting like an indignant gorilla chasing David Attenborough.

"You alright love?" Pamela asked, "Oh..."

She felt his waggling wiener pump harder than the heart of an asthmatic rock climber, shortly followed by a gloopy, jizzy denouement.

"Ta for the fuck," Pamela purred as Ray's deli dip drooled down her legs, "you really put the pork in me pie."

They sneaked sexily back to the shop floor, the wafting scent of their passion prompting Ezekiel on the fish counter to check his stock.


I'm really very sorry that you had to endure that (especially my fellow asthmatics). Feeling sadistic? You're filthy, I like you, you should check out this year's others ridiculously amusing entries - just flick the bean below to see them all:

Monday, 4 March 2019

Getting to know you

Being apart from my other partner for what will eventually be seven months has highlighted one important aspect of a D/s relationship (although we're more of a D/brat sorta thing); getting to know - to properly know/understand/trust - one another significantly enhances the time we spend in one another's physical presence.

I now feel as though I'll be considerably more comfortable and relaxed in her company, even though I enjoyed feeling comfortable and relaxed to a certain extent with her before. I like to think that she now feels the same way, although that's a conversation best postponed until we're face-to-face again.

What are the implications of this? There are many, but perhaps the most important is that I no longer feel the need to perform when I'm with her. I can just be. We can just enjoy the moment for whatever it will be. Feeling this way in one another's presence will, perhaps, be conducive for more intimate play (whatever that may turn out to be).

A partnership which exists deeper than the skin is something to be cherished. Our time together is, I'm sure, still limited (she won't be in London forever), but I feel very lucky that we've been able to connect in a way that will transcend our physical coupling. Of course such a connection doesn't necessitate a long absence; frequent communication during short periods of separation will be of benefit to the relationship too.

Saturday, 2 March 2019

Voyeur meets exhibitionist

I like being naked, I especially like it when my nudity gives pleasure to another. For this Sinful Sunday's prompt 'Double Exposure' I've combined my beautiful voyeur G with her favourite exhibitionist object (me!).

Take a look at the other hugely talented contributors to this week's Sinful Sunday:

Sinful Sunday

Another Day In Paradise

Sadly my carefree days on the road are coming to an end. How fortunate I am to have been able to create memories such as these.

See who else is being sinful this Sunday:

Sinful Sunday

Wednesday, 27 February 2019

The Discoverers

A short piece of erotic fiction for you to enjoy


It was a picture so perfectly drawn that he could easily imagine himself as the subject. A young woman with glossy black hair, on her knees and hands tied behind her. Although naked, her body was barely discernible beneath the dozen hands of the men surrounding her. One man - the main focus of the painting - was also unclothed and being pleasured by the submissive's mouth.

Making a rough sketch of this erotic scene, Edward then glanced at his pocket watch and - shocked at how long he'd been here - turned around for one last look. There was an atmosphere that seemed charged with the explicit art covering every wall. It was almost powerful enough to be physical.


LONDON, 25 Jun 1878
Famous Alpine explorer Edward Trelew returned to
his home safe and well but apparently not sound of mind.
Claiming to have discovered a cave system near
Mürren, Switzerland, Trelew further claimed that
these caves contained images and statues of an
obscene nature. He described a woman he met in the
caves, as well as the activities they pursued whilst
there. This publication will refrain from describing
said activities so as not to corrupt our readers.


Zoe had found the clipping hidden in an old second-hand book entitled Spelunking in Switzerland. A title as eye-catching as this couldn't be ignored, the ancient article she'd found inside had sealed the deal and she bought it for herself as a late 32nd birthday present. At home she more carefully read the page, marked by the original owner when the book had first been bought in the 1960s.

Shallow caves with interesting historical artefacts. Accessible only after snow has melted (around May). Hut nearby.
How to get there:

Detailed instructions filled the rest of the page. A quick internet search resulted in no further information other than how to travel to Mürren and where to stay in town. But Zoe wasn't discouraged. The ancient news article that suggested such an unusual place existed, as well as the bookmarked page which seemed to verify the story, made her think that there was some truth to it. She closed her search windows and brought up another, typing in 'flights to Switzerland'.


I like being impulsive, Zoe thought as she carried her bags from Geneva airport to the train station. Up until now her life had followed a rather predictable trajectory, including the recent breakup with a man so selfish in bed that she couldn't recall ever enjoying a single orgasm in return for the many she'd helped him to have.

After two efficient train journeys she was hauling her bag up a steep road. Mürren was a pretty village of wooden chalets and breathtaking mountain views. This early in the season there was only one hotel open - the six-room Gletscher Hotel. A kindly lady - as old as the quaint farming artefacts on the wall - showed her to her room.

At dinner she found herself alone until, halfway through her starter, a tanned gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair strolled in. He had to duck through the charmingly low doorway, allowing Zoe a brief moment to compose herself. Those grey eyes! Those broad shoulders! What an exquisite man.

"May I join you?" he asked.
"Ohyesplease," she blurted.

After the main course they had already started to be familiar with each other. During dessert they realised that they were both here for the same reason. Over coffee they agreed to hike to the cave together.


The hike wasn't as easy as the old guidebook had suggested. Zoe and the handsome man - Artie ("My parents named me Artemis, I prefer the less pretentious Artie") - decided to stop at the mountain hut for the night and seek out the cave tomorrow. Luxuries such as flush toilets and solar-heated showers had been installed by the ingenious Swiss.

Whilst washing the day's aches away Zoe's hand found itself ensconced between the top of her legs. Although there were comforts in this hut, it was still so basic as to have just the one mixed-sex bathroom, no shower curtain and no lock on the door. In an inexplicable state of arousal, Zoe touched herself to thoughts of being discovered by Artie in this state of undress.

The door remained unopened and so Zoe had to satisfy herself with walking from the bathroom in just her vest and panties. This parade didn't go unnoticed. Artie was clearing away the dinner paraphernalia and turned when the younger woman passed him. He had been surprised at the power of his attraction to her, getting a glimpse of her strong thighs and barely-covered bottom exacerbated this feeling.

Unlike every other trail in Switzerland, the one to the caves was unmarked. This conservative country was embarrassed to host such an explicit attraction and so did what it could to discourage visitors to it. Late morning and, after many wrong turns, Zoe and Artie at last came across the gaping maws in the rock.

They had brought powerful lamps to light the interior. Even though both were experienced in the art of love, they were shocked at the nature of the paintings and carvings on the wall. Whoever had created them centuries ago was an artist with talents to rival Michaelangelo.

Zoe was mesmerised. Her mind had been drawn into the artwork. She was that submissive figure satisfying that group of men. She was that woman being spread for a serpentine tongue. She was that queen being served by a retinue of well-endowed servants.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Artie place his fingers on a perfect rendering of a carved vulva. His fore and middle fingers gently stroked the smooth polished stone, exploring the folds before at last travelling over the ridge along the centre. Blood coursed faster through Zoe's veins as he delicately pinched the small button that had been depicted emerging from a flesh covering.

Fantasy immediately stopped spooling through her head when Artie removed his hand and wandered off to the back of the cave. Hungry for what he might do next, Zoe followed. She saw him reading something etched into the wall, the words forming the shape of a chair.

The Queen sat upon her throne
She was naked but not alone
Her servants stood there
Forming the chair
Their    hands and arms    tease
While   fingers guarantee   she's
in   surrender to the tips  so
 as  to make her lips  go
oh              oh
oh                  oh
oh                     oh

Zoe blushed and looked away then noticed, right against the back wall, the most curious object of all; a chair consisting of hands and arms sculpted from the rock. One of the arms forming the seat had a hand with two fingers protruding upwards. Some form of insult to visitors? Zoe wondered.

But no, not here. Here in this cave of eroticism the function of those fingers became clear. The poem etched into the wall left no doubt. Artie was looking at her, his bottom lip tucked in behind his top teeth and his eyebrows playfully raised. It seemed inevitable. Why she was here, why Artie was here. They had no control over their destiny in this cave, but neither of them would have it any other way.

Zoe pulled off her top and released her breasts from the thin lace bra in which they were encased. She kicked off boots and socks and rolled off leggings and thong, unveiling her glistening pink lips. Artie wiped the upraised fingers with his shirt then spat on his hand and coated the digits in his saliva. He then took Zoe's hand and helped her into the chair. His muscular arms held her firm as she felt one cold stone protrusion enter her cunt and then the other slide into her ass.

Now she understood why the front finger was slightly crooked. It rested at that tender spot just inside of her and teased it when she moved even a millimetre. It felt strange being penetrated in the rear - a sensation she wasn't used to but which she now welcomed. Soon the stone felt warm inside her. Impossibly the stone all around her grew warm too.

"How does that feel?" Artie asked with a knowing smile.
"So good," Zoe replied before sighing in response to a touch.

This was exactly the right moment for him to lean down for a kiss. It wasn't a disappointment. Artie was a master of lips and tongue and, as if connected to her thoughts, he began covering her body with that expert mouth. Neck to shoulders, shoulders to breasts, breasts to stomach, stomach to thighs. He was making her discover erogenous zones that had hitherto remained unexplored.

Overcome with desire Zoe moved her legs far apart, signalling her want. Arty teased her by delicately nibbling her inner thigh then licking the edge of her vulva. The stone hands started moving, holding her wrists and ankles, pulling her legs even further apart and sliding fingers in and out. At least, that's what she felt. She could see that the chair hadn't moved. Her imagination was out of control down here.

Undeniably real, however, was the man whose tongue was now dipping in to her honeyed core, his large hands teasing out her roseate nipples. Zoe quivered beneath his touch. Artie briefly interrupted his feast to stand, step back and admire the naked treat before him. It seemed to him as though she were being held open for his hungry gaze. Lifting her head only slightly, she looked up at him coyly by raising her eyes and flicking aside her Renaissance hair.

"I'm all yours," she purred in a voice that didn't sound like her own.

Now, at last, Artie began to reveal himself. Just as she had hoped his torso was strong and covered in faint wisps of curly hair. The cave appeared to grow darker apart from a glow from his powerful body. He removed the rest of his clothes and Zoe gasped in delight at the sight of his semi-hard cock.

Again her imagination ran riot; Zoe thought that her silent wishes were communicating commands inside his head. Sure enough he approached and offered up his smooth manhood to her mouth. The satin underside of his shaft was the most exquisite thing to ever pass between her lips. She held him there for countless seconds, savouring the sensation of his engorgement. Her tongue met his sensitive tip and she exulted at the sound of his happy moans.

All sense of time was lost to them. Artie was sure that, by now, in any other situation, his sap would have been sucked out. But here in this mysterious cave his endurance was almost supernatural. Zoe felt the inanimate chair rising, sliding her forwards and lifting her legs so that the front finger withdrew and pointed at her supplicant opening.

In servitude to his expectant dick, Artie edged between his companions legs, her cunt at just the right height for him to ease comfortably in. He perfectly conformed to her vacant need, the swell of him in harmony with the erotogenic her. Artie felt the stone finger in possession of her rear, discovered that it provided stimulus for him in this other tunnel.

An advantage that Zoe had over her partner was that, post-orgasm, she was almost immediately ready for more, whereas a man would need about an hour or so to recover his rigidity. Artie's penetration resulted in near-instant ecstasy for her, her uncontrollable howls of exquisite satisfaction bouncing off of the cave walls.

Again and again and again she was brought to this zenith, her artful lover wrangling the pliant woman into numerous positions which left her exposed to his fingers and phallus in one way or another, or another. At just the right moment, when one last shuddering orgasm had pulsed through her, he took himself into his capable hands and unleashed his pent-up desire all over her bite-marked breasts.

Following the furious storm came the dull calm of cleaning up and re-dressing. They exited the cave into unexpectedly bright sunlight. Back at the refuge Zoe's phone informed her that they had been away an entire night. Unbelievable. Returning down the mountain path they walked in almost silence, Zoe's thoughts occupied by this generous, adventurous and expert lover.

When they reached Mürren, Artie offered to buy a bottle of wine to celebrate their discovery from the one shop in the village. Zoe went to check them into the Gletscher Hotel, heading straight to the shower once she'd been handed the room key. Strange; her breasts were no longer coated in dried cum. And the bite marks had disappeared.

Artie hadn't arrived by the time Zoe had stepped out of the shower. She went back down to reception and asked the elderly owner if she'd seen him.

"Ah, you made it to the cave?" the hotelier asked in her thick Swiss accent.
"Yes, I went with the man who stayed here on the same night as me."
"Oh my dear. There was no man. I went to that cave, many years ago. I experienced the same thing."
"Really? Come on!" Zoe said incredulously.
"Yes, really. Was he the perfect man? Attentive? Generous? Incredible body?"
"Well yes, but..."
"Amazing stamina? I imagine you lost sense of time? It's that cave. There is some...power there which plays with your head and your memory"
"I'm very sorry. But let me tell you; now you have been shown what you can have. Now you know what you deserve in a man!"

Just then the hotelier's husband entered the reception. He whispered something in his wife's ear and, when he walked away, she slapped his butt, winked at Zoe then followed him out of the room.


Artie appeared beside Zoe whenever she found time to pleasure herself. His phantom hands guided her hands, held the vibrator or boldly plugged her asshole with delicate fingers.

One day, after years of rejecting unworthy suitors, Zoe discovered a man who matched Artie's expertise with her body. From that day forwards her she never needed her imaginary lover again. Well, not never. Not when she was in the mood for two masterful men to worship her body.

Friday, 22 February 2019

I hate dick

I hate dick. I hate my dick.

I hate that so many people think dicks are an ugly part of the body and that I agree with them. Dicks can be incredibly uncomfortable. Dicks can betray feelings. Dicks can be unreliable. There are so many stupid slang words for that which is between my legs.

I hate that cocks are considered cheap and comical. Cocks are weapons, in the wrong hands. Cocks have been the cause of innumerable atrocities against millions or individuals. Cocks provide the owner a good orgasm, but orgasms which are over too quickly. Cocks cause offence, deliberately or not.

The two benefits of having a dick? Being a privileged member of the patriarchy and being able to pee standing up.

Wednesday, 9 January 2019

So very lucky - before & after

Before we begin I always think how very lucky I am. Before we begin I think about what adventures we will experience within these four walls. She is laid out before me entirely unclothed. How do I deserve such beauty?

A creation as delectable as this requires time for thorough appreciation, first with the eyes, then with the hands and then, finally, with the mouth.

What an honour it is to be caressing this thigh. How unbelievably fantasy-fulfilling it is to be gently biting that perfect neck. Such luxury, being able to dedicate time to simply look and marvel, stroke and kiss.

With a landscape as varied as this it is worth lingering over the fine details. Don't rush to nipples and cunt.

Run your hands from hip to waist and waist to breast, taking joy at this rollercoaster of ups and downs. Draw a finger down the shallow valley along the spine, which disappears into the soft flesh swell of buttocks.

Inevitably the languid river of worship plummets into the frenzied waterfall of sex. Familiar with every inch of this yielding lover, penetration becomes just one of the players in this act of touches, caresses and kisses.

How is it possible that this exquisite creature is giving herself to me? Afterwards I once again reflect on how very lucky I am. Afterwards the memories of her will linger for an indulgently long time.


See other posts on the theme of Before & After in this week's Wicked Wednesday by clicking on the badge below:

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Tuesday, 8 January 2019

A taste of LDR

I've had a taste of what a truly long-distance relationship can be like whilst on this 6-month journey. My sub and I have remained in frequent contact. The subjects of our WhatsApp chats seem to be split as follows:

- 70% how has your day been/what have you been up to
- 5% plans for when we next meet
- 20% flirting (which 95% of the time results from talking about something innocent)
- 5% me offering advice or her being a brat and earning punishments

Although some think that travelling the world should be an opportunity to leave life behind for a while, I very much disagree when it comes to relationships. A bond was formed when we met and would grow too weak if contact were to be infrequent. Now we won't meet again as strangers, even if my absence from London will be longer than expected.I've had a taste of what a truly long-distance relationship can be like whilst on this 6-month journey. My sub and I have remained in frequent contact. The subjects of our WhatsApp chats seem to be split as follows:

- 70% how has your day been/what have you been up to
- 5% plans for when we next meet
- 20% flirting (which 95% of the time results from talking about something innocent)
- 5% me offering advice or her being a brat and earning punishments

Although some think that travelling the world should be an opportunity to leave life behind for a while, I very much disagree when it comes to relationships. A bond was formed when we met and would grow too weak if contact were to be infrequent. Now we won't meet again as strangers, even if my absence from London will now be longer than expected.

I really can't wait to see her again!

Thursday, 3 January 2019

Paying extra

Why do single men pay more to get into adult clubs (sex clubs, swinging clubs, BDSM clubs etc)? It's hard to argue against the conjecture that it's to do with supply and demand; I'm sure that many more men would want to attend such clubs.

Some say that by making single men pay considerably more you're restricting their numbers, and that this is a good thing because men are more likely to disrespect boundaries. On the whole, I agree with the premise that you're more likely to come across a badly behaved man than a badly behaved woman and that having more women in a club is likely to modify that behaviour.

So why not restrict numbers? By making men pay are you not increasing the chances of making more men feel entitled to sex? Are you not making men feel relatively cheap and worthless? It really hurts and is hugely offensive to be treated like this (but tough shit, right? Men are to blame for this after all).

Thank you to those clubs and events who find a way of admitting men that is safe, enjoyable and fair for all. I'm sure it isn't easy but, in my experience, it is possible.