It was just an hour from when I got her message to when I arrived. Just an hour. Now, looking back, it seems almost impossible that there was just an hour of intermission between my old life to my new reality.
By Mel MacFarlane: It was the last time I saw him alive. A chilly but bright October morning with no clouds and a biting wind that tore through my dress and straight into my bones. I shivered painfully as I pulled my thin shawl further over my shabby dress, smiling brightly through the chattering of my teeth.
They were miles away from each other, but a heat linked them as they spoke. She was reclining in her bed, ready to drift to sleep. Alone in his room, he was kneeling beside his own bed. She enjoyed the sweetness of it, knowing he was that way for her, and the similarity to the pose to that for nighttime prayers did not escape her.
We all know about ropes and floggers and cuffs – they feature not just in porn but in most erotica, in sex tips and magazines and That Book. But while it might be easy to ask your partner if you can handcuff them because you've seen this one tip in Cosmo, it could be a hell of a lot harder to explain the thrill of an actual power exchange. Of you giving yourself over to them, or them to you, to be led and moulded and treated and punished and all the things I personally love about being at the collar end of that strip of leather. You might not like that kind of thing, of course. But judging by how even a couple of my vanilla friends were keen to put it on, and be playfully led from sofa to garden, back to the sofa and straight onto my lap, it's certainly intriguing to many. And not just in a giggly 'oh we've had too much wine and sex toys are funny' way, in an 'ooh, I think I could get to like this but I'm not sure I'd admit it when sober' way.