This fabulous story is written and read by Sundial. This is part 3 in a multi-part series. You can check out part 1 ‘a mouth and a cunt full of cock’ here. And part 2 ‘just for a moment’ here.

Coffee on the terrace, we had such luck with the weather. All blue skies and wheeling seagulls calling to each other, the smell of the sea at the bottom of the hill wafting to us on the light breeze. It felt summery and warm. And we were silent, just being. I was still reeling, still hot and wet with a dizzying ache of emptiness, of denial teasing inside me. With your nails, you stroked the backs of my fingers where they rested on the table. Ohh, and even that light touch sent electricity coursing through me. I thought I might explode with lust.

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Autumn is here, and with it the promise of Halloween. So I’m excited to bring you this week’s guest blog on the hotness of fear. Katie runs her own sex blog at NymphoStimToy (@NymphoStimToy on Mastodon), which you definitely need to check out because not only did her first post (‘when I’m better‘) absolutely annihilate me, she also has the best sex blog tagline I have ever seen, and I’m jealous. But as I say, today she’s here to talk about fear: the fact that arousal and terror sit so closely in our bodies, providing similar heart-pounding, gasping, adrenaline-fuelled reactions means they’re incredibly closely linked for many of us. And she wanted to talk about giving an eager submissive the gift of pure terror…

Note: Katie has written consent and the build-up to fear very beautifully in this piece, but it’s important to state clearly that you shouldn’t ever seek to frighten someone unless you know they have consented to that, and you’ve discussed things like safe words and other ways for them to withdraw consent at any time. As a general rule, the scarier the play, the more groundwork you need to have put in beforehand to understand your partner’s limits and the cues they will give you if they need the terror to stop. 

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In response to a very bitter post I spat out recently, quite a few people asked me if I’d heard of ‘kintsugi‘ – the Japanese art of repairing broken things with gold. The idea is that, by gilding the cracks, you can see what something has survived and it becomes more beautiful. It’s a very cool concept, and yes I have heard of it. Stuart even used it in an illustration many years ago about heartbreak, which I’m using for this piece today too. But no matter how gorgeous the idea, I am not in the headspace right now to repair myself with gold. To observe the shattered pile of dust which used to be my self-worth and note with detachment that, some day, it’ll make a lovely pot.

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“Do you want to make some plans with me?” he asks, all casually playful, as if his name hadn’t just splashed into her inbox like a life ring tossed to a drowning woman. She grasps at it, as if he alone can save her (he cannot). He offers a selection of activities, and each shines bright with promise – a bike ride, a show, dinner, conversations about the book recommendations they’ve been swapping. Plus, of course, sex. She ponders which to pick, knowing the sex will be on offer no matter what they do beforehand, and even though she’s poor in spirit she’s now rich in possibilities. She replies swiftly – picks a fun activity, gives him her availability, then adds: “I am not sure about the sex. I’m feeling very… [big black box of horror that it’s probably best we don’t open] right now. In theory I like the idea though, can we play it by ear?”.

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Welcome, friends, to my grubby little corner of the internet. A corner so strewn with obscenity that the UK government has decided you must prove you’re a grown-up before you can access certain parts of it. The UK’s new Online Safety Act has come into force, so UK people might have noticed a bunch of websites suddenly demanding you take a selfie, share your credit card details, or jump through another hoop to prove that you’re over 18. Quite a few of my friends have been discussing this in the pub, because for understandable reasons people who aren’t embedded in the world of online pornography or internet law are suddenly curious about why the internet is now so very broken. They’re also often convinced that the government will change its mind and therefore no one really needs to worry. I’ve had this conversation so many times now that I reckon I’ve got the basis for a fairly solid layperson’s guide to age verification: what it is, how it affects you, and why we absolutely, genuinely do need to worry.

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