The Fuck-Drunk Chronicles

I may have mentioned this once or twice before but I was a truly terrible Domme.  I lacked a certain ruthlessness necessary for a successful top.  Nevertheless, I was in demand as all Dommes are.  Lately I find myself revisiting those early D/s days.  Part of it is a shortness of temper due to the stress of the current situation, part of it is how much I’ve discussed my time as top lately, part of it is my natural tendency to reflection and self-analysis.  For whatever reason I find myself being more… not dominant, exactly.  Maybe domineering.  Controlling in some conversations, unwilling to accept some of the bullshit that normally helps to grease the wheels of everyday social interaction.  In work I’ve finally taken control of some issues I’ve been ignoring for a long time, taking advantage of my current temporary lack of fucks given.  I’ve discussed some sessions as sub and now seems as good a time as any to discuss a session as a Domme. Even the best Domme in the world can’t wor

I have had a couple of conversations recently where this blog has been mentioned.  I keep this going primarily for my own amusement, but I do have an ego. It’s always mildly thrilling to think someone else is enjoying it too, rather than me just mumbling smut to myself like some sort of horny drunk on the night bus that nobody dare venture too near.  Seriously, someone in Burkina Faso has read about my ex-sub’s cleaning shenanigans? How astonishing! In one of the conversations it was suggested the blog may be misnamed; that it should instead be called “We Didn’t Meet Again”.  That does seem to be the punchline to many of my stories and gave me a good laugh.  I also like the subversion of the Vera Lynne-esque message.  We’ll meet again?  Not bloody likely mate.  That’s taking doing your duty to entirely unwarranted levels; I’m not exactly a lie back and think of England type. So many of my more random meets have been such glorious shitshows that they do tend to prevail when it comes