Caught between a Domme and a Hard Place

I spent last night at SpecialK’s apartment…. which reminds me of a dorm room your senior year of college: loads of people there, up at all hours, booze everywhere. Still, for me to get a night off, sit ob the couch, and expose him to the wonders of Army of Darkness? A pretty great treat.

But then I leave in the morning. And I miss him. But I don’t feel like I can say that to him, because Dommes are meant to be strong and capable. I don’t want to be just another woman, clawing at his time… but I miss him so much, I could cry.

Ah well. Guess there’s still tumblr and my hitachi. 😆


Funny story

It turns out that if you hate team building, forced merriment activities, you can claim to be actively lactating, and people will help you find a room, far from all the plastic smiles.

I will literally do this for the rest of my career. I’ll be 70, like “these babies are still fully active!!”



Let’s say my monthly p aycheck is around €2500. Minus rent: €1600. Minus utilities €120. Minus food for two adults and two growing boys, transportation….

It kinda doesn’t surprise me in retrospect that when I logged on to my tumblr account and say girls making money in escorting and Sugaring, that I thought, “fuck it, why not??” So I tried to become a full service sex worker (fssw).

The very first thing I learned is that your body is the commodity up for bid. Primp and pamper, because that’s what they want to see! Sounds fun, sounds nice, but when I’m working on 6 hours of interrupted sleep, I could give a shit about whether a potential will like square edge, or rounded fingernail.  Ugh. Just pay me.

My first real potential was a lovely man, though. He told me he liked pretty lingerie, so I packed stockings and a lovely new garter belt, along with a flirty skirt and blouse. We had planned to meet for lunch, but his meetings ran over…. So I got a last minute call after work, and hopped in a taxi. Only to realise…. I was in my work clothes.


In the back of the taxi, I scrunched down, pulled off my shirt, slipped off my bra, and got the second one MOSTLY on before…
“We’re here, miss!”


“Ummm, yup, thanks!” I wrapped my jacket around me so he (hopefully) wouldn’t see that not only was my bra barely on, but my shirt wasn’t closed and my trousers were undone.

My life of high class escorting was coming off to a kick was start!!

I got out of the taxi, found a side door to the hotel, and finished getting dressed in front of the lift. It wasn’t so bad when no one was there, but you can’t really play it off when the doors open, a family walks out, and you’ve got two hands up your skirt, trying to fix your garters!

Anyway, he was lovely, but they were all the same; arrogant, selfish, and there’s only so long I could go before I found myself teaching for a crop to beat the shit out of them.

Time wasters. I applaud fssw; I’m only fit to be a Domme. But for some fabulous Sugar Babies who inspire me with their drive, check these women out:

London Sugar
Lovely Shea
One of the more popular ones: Thotiana

Everyone Wants a Part, But Never the Whole

It took me ages to find my password, which sucked, because I have a lot to say.

It’s been a while. It felt like 2015 was massive for a load of people, not just me. But on a selfish note, I’m so far removed from the person I was 13 months ago. It’s staggering and amazing and humbling… and a bit sad. There was a naivete, a belief I had that my ex would just be the man I thought he could be. But months of fighting for him to help pay, even just the medical bills for the boys, has given me a clearer picture of who he is, and what I’m capable of.

I’m harder, now. My boundaries are stronger, my demands are less flexible. And when you start drawing your lines in the sand, not everyone makes it across.

I broke up with SpecialK. As much as I loved him, I said, he didn’t want kids, and I had two. Not to mention the fact that his girlfriend had dinner with my ex, then came back and accused me of trying to get pregnant with his baby to “trap” him into staying with me.

I don’t need that drama. Keep your DD/lg bullshit over there, thanks.

The next night, he came over to my place, late at night.  He told me how she had said she wanted marriage, a pocket fence, the works. He told me that he said he didn’t want any of that… But he realized that was a lie; he wanted it with me.

That’s great. And if I ever wanted to be married again, it could be to him… But he’s still somewhat uncomfortable around the kids; still doesn’t gravitate towards spending “family time” together. So I’m left wondering if he loves me, all of me, even the mom who sometimes gets poop on her hands.

Of course, coming out of a shitty marriage, I’m kind of adrift in the expectations department.

The important thing is, I made it through this year, I’m not an alcoholic, and my sex life is SO much better with a man who loves giving oral!

Ugh. Seriously. How did I go 10 years without?? 👍