Girl on the Net

I’m so delighted to welcome Komplicated Kitty back to the guest slot! Her previous piece, about being a very slutty Cinderella for her partner, was wildly hot and incredibly popular, so when she popped back up to ask if I wanted a guest blog on pet play I squirmed with excitement. And it’s just as hot as her first piece, this time with the addition of a fluffy, sexy tail butt plug…

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I’m so excited to bring you a contribution from a really special guest today. He normally draws the gorgeous art that illustrates the posts here on site, but today he’s here to share a truly stunning image for the last ever Sinful Sunday. Please give a huge welcome to fantastic illustrator (and incredibly talented photographer) Stuart Taylor!

Read his thoughts below, and follow him here on BlueSky and here on Mastodon.

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It’s the final week of Sinful Sunday, and some amazing people who don’t have their own blogs want to join in, so this gorgeously sexy anonymous contribution is from a fabulous writer who has guest blogged for me in the past. Their words are below, please do enjoy their contribution, share it, and click the lips at the bottom to see who else is joining in!

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Today marks the final Sinful Sunday – an incredible, body-positive photography project run by my talented colleague (and much-loved friend) Molly Moore. I have never had much courage for taking photos of myself, but I have joined in a few times before – mostly because of Molly’s infectious enthusiasm and the supportive and welcoming environment she helped to create. Even though I only joined in occasionally, I have always loved seeing other people’s contributions. The joy, the love, the sexiness. Sinful Sunday will be very much missed, huge thanks to all of you – especially the regular contributors – for sharing your incredible photos, your gorgeous bodies, and these beautiful snippets of intimacy with the world. What you do is incredible.

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It’s embarrassing to admit that I don’t like myself very much. Far more embarrassing, though, to tell you all that sometimes I think I’m OK. The latter carries way more shame, I want to whisper it in small-font italics. Sometimes I think I’m quite good, actually. Occasionally the tall, loud, brash, opinionated mess that makes up ‘me’ doesn’t feel so obnoxious. I like myself when I’m with you.

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