This perfect restraints kit has lived rent-free in my head for a number of years. I’m a clumsy, eager fucker and when I engage in bondage, I do so in the same clumsy, eager way that I go about the rest of my fucks. I’m rubbish at knots, and can’t be bothered to learn, so the restraints that have won a permanent place in my bedroom are usually simple to use. Think cuffs with buckles, or ideally velcro. These door jam cuffs that I got many years ago were my favourite for a while. They’re so easy, and so effective: I love them. When asked what would be on my bucket list for the perfect restraints kit, I hankered after this Sportsheets under the bed restraints system for literally YEARS. Then finally I got one, and not long after I set it up, I broke up with my boyfriend. So I couldn’t actually use it. FFS.

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I am monogamish. Monogamish like mostly monogamous. Monogamish like not polyamorous. Monogamish like ‘I’d love to have a boyfriend who loved and respected me enough that he was happy to share me around (and vice versa) while never making me feel like I’m second best.’ Monogamish: a manifesto. Let’s do this.

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The next chapter of this story happens when I’m probably in the middle of a breakdown. Perhaps it’s the way my life has been lately – an agony of paranoia and mistrust – that’s causing me to make some dodgy decisions. But this particular decision led to something good, I think. As helpful as it can be to hear ‘I love you’ in times of hardship, ‘I trust you’ healed my heart right now.

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There’s this guy I’m going to see on Saturday, with whom I am definitely not going to have sex. I imagine from the way I’ve phrased that sentence, and anything you might already know about me, that you can surmise this is a man with whom I would very much like to have sex. But I am not going to have sex with him. No matter how good he smells. No matter how deeply I yearn for his perfect, perfect dick. I am definitely not going to have sex with him, and that’s final.

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If you missed the first part, here’s an overview: I had a test date with a blog reader, “Jack”, who took me up on my offer to do a phone chat and message exchange then give him feedback on where he might be going wrong. It was also a challenge for me. I am prone to avoiding constructive critique because I’m a rampant people-pleaser who never wants to upset anybody. Would I be able to tell Jack where he was going wrong without burying anything useful in a torrent of consoling positivity? Let’s see, shall we?

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