Text: For every minute you’re late, I’m going to make you put an ice cube down your trousers.

I was quite proud of that one at the time. He still hasn’t done it though. The pub was a bit exposed and to be honest, it felt like maybe that one was a bit sexual. Ice cubes? Cool. Casual femdom? Fine. Trouser-based activity? Probably pushing it.

I have a friend who is super-sub. The kind of submissive you find in clubs wearing just PVC panties and an expectant grin. The sort of guy I’d playfully ask for a foot rub if my pointy shoes were killing me. A sub who does whatever you ask, then looks at you with those puppy-dog-eyes I’ve heard so much about, eager for you to issue another instruction.

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This week’s guest blog is a bit different, because I’m going to publish it and then – like an irritating pop-up critic – I’m going to disagree with the author.

Meet Mr XY. He got in touch with a blog about his specific fantasies – softcore femdom that follows certain lines, but doesn’t go as far as much of the femdom porn that he finds online. Domination without humiliation. Edging without hardcore chastity. I’ll let him explain the details.

However, I also want to add a note for those reading this – his post discusses the ways in which femdom is portrayed in the mainstream media, as well as a lament about the lack of porn available for people with his sensibilities. If you think the same, please do read my response at the end, because I definitely think there’s plenty of porn that caters to these fantasies, and it’s perhaps not as rare as the author thinks. Sometimes it’s just a question of knowing the right places to find it, so I thought it’d be worth us having a bit of back and forth.

As a result of my insistence on disagreeing, this blog is less of a straight-out story, and more the opportunity to start a bit of a discussion. So massive thank you to him, for letting me post his blog along with my thoughts, and please do come and join in the comments.

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It’s pretty rare that someone shares an exact fantasy of mine, right down to every sticky detail. I think the same is true for most of us, which is why those ‘top fantasies’ surveys are usually far too broad to be useful on an individual basis. X per cent of men fantasise about having a threesome – big deal. Who is the threesome with? What happens during it? What’s the atmosphere like? Is the main participant a passive receptacle for the sexual whims of the other two, or are they an active and eager consumer, sampling whatever deviant delights they are offered? Is this threesome in a specific place, or are specific words said? When you get down to the granular detail of a fantasy, it’s incredibly rare to find someone who shares something identical, in every possible respect.

So, when I tell you that I once explained this fantasy to someone, and watched their eyes light up with gleeful enthusiasm, as they told me they had exactly the same desire, I hope you can understand just how rare that was. And how utterly soaked I was by the time they’d finished explaining exactly why they liked it too.

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“Write more about pegging!” say a whole bunch of messages in my inbox. As has always been the case with sex blogging, as soon as I write up a particular act or story that has fetish value, I’ll be inundated with people who love it and want to hear more. Pegging – because I’m sure there are some who aren’t familiar with it – essentially refers to the act of strapping on a cock and shagging a smile onto the face of the person you’re with. Instead of giving you more stories about my own incompetent attempts to peg guys, this week I’m handing over to a guest blogger – Lady Lucifer (@TheLadyLucifer on Twitter) – who is a pro-domme with a wealth of strap on expertise. She got in touch recently with a deeply hot story to share.

This is the pegging spitroast.

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At my first ever munch about – oooh, a million years ago now – the first question people asked was: “are you a top or a bottom?” As we mingled with a bunch of exceptionally friendly people, dressed in anything from jeans and t-shirt to ropework and pants, everyone wanted to know:

“Top or bottom?”

“Domme or sub?”

What are you?

For want of a better word, we both said ‘switch.’ Having done our research (read: furiously masturbated to a number of blog posts and forum debates) we figured that our ‘whatever we fancy at the time’ attitude probably best fit into that category. Neither of us was a particularly dominant person, nor were either of us comfortable being cast in the role of submissive, nervous that it would prevent us from having the same kind of playful back-and-forth that was a staple of our usual nights out.

Kinda silly, really, but we were young, and hadn’t a sodding clue what we were doing.

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