Something Good and Right and Real

met You in October, i had nothing to lose

i’m in a certain mood in October 2023. That mood is violent, realistic, brutal CNC. i don’t particularly care to analyse if that’s a good or bad response to heartbreak but it’s the one i’m having, and i’m finding some delightfully nasty individuals online to deliver. i’m having no trouble finding people on the apps i’m on but i feel sort of restless and unsatisfied as i install yet another and flick through the options available, rejecting them all for one reason or another until i stop dead.

It’s been just over two years since i saw that face. W/we texted back and forth for a few weeks trying to align Their work schedule with my sex schedule and eventually met, just the once in 2021. They said, “what would you like to be hit with?”. i looked at the options and said, “does that break the skin?” “Oh yes,” They promised, and it did. i asked Them if They’d like to put a cigarette out on me – They were curious, but declined, and W/we both thought maybe next time.

And life moves on and W/we don’t meet again and now They’re a swipe away. i swipe, W/we match, and They message – “beating the shit out of you when?”

The thing is – i had a great time last time. i’ve thought about it since. Good violence, nice bruises, lots of blood and They seemed lovely. But what i’m looking for right now isn’t something i can see Them delivering, at least not right away. O/our first time was hot, but not particularly sexually focused, and although it was very violent it was the explicitly consensual kind of consensual, not the no please stop tears and snot kind. i’d like to see Them again, but in my current mood? i’m surprised at how keen i am, even knowing that the vibe isn’t what i’d been looking for. What’s all that about?

break up, break free, break through, break down

They pick me up, and the half hour drive is enough to shift me from relaxed to nicely afraid. W/we talk about the last two years – They enjoyed my dating profile tagline “looking to be treated as rough as my last breakup”, but They’re sorry to hear about the circumstances that inspired it. They’re recently single too, W/we’ve both changed jobs, and between the life gossip i say the two things you should never say to a Sadist. “i don’t bruise easily,” and “i have a high pain threshold.”

They put that theory to the test in Their bedroom, They’re stronger than i realised as They pin me down and beat me mercilessly. And thoroughly – by the time i stagger back to Their car i’m boiled lobster red from hip to knee, with the beginnings of some purple-black welts raising on my thighs.

“Send me pictures of those,” They say, and that opens the door to text Them instead of ignoring Them until i’m ready to go again. i keep Them updated, and They keep a place in my head, rent free. Seeking new rape players seems less important right now – i’m keeping my schedule open. No reason.

and just one time, maybe the moment’s right. it’s 8:05 and i see two headlights

i go on holiday. Well, actually, i go on honeymoon – but on my own and the wedding didn’t happen. A week alone in the Cyprus sun is the most healing thing i could have done, and sipping vodka and blasting Taylor Swift by the pool starts to bring me back to life.

They gave me another set of bruises just before i left, and i send the update texts, a couple of nudes, and practically have to sit on my hands to keep from over texting. i don’t know that, hundreds of miles away, They’re doing the same thing. i’ll find out later, and W/we’ll laugh about it. One day W/we’ll talk about the moment They “joked” about wanting to come with me, and i wanted to say “there’s two flights already paid for, come.” i didn’t. i don’t acknowledge what’s going on. A friend asks me, of my recent hookups, who i’d date. if i had to. There’s no hesitation when i say it’s Them. i make a tiktok – “i’m enjoying being single, it’ll be a long time before i’m ready for a relationship.” Because that’s how i’m supposed to feel, right?

They’re the first person i arrange to see when i get back, and i don’t know it yet but i won’t arrange to meet anyone else again.

They drive me out to the wilderness again, and in the winter darkness as W/we leave the city lights behind Their fingers trace my thigh and i let myself think about the feelings that i never intend to say. They’ve been clear They don’t want a relationship (though so have i, and i’m realising now that that was bullshit). The best thing to do, i figure, is pretend this isn’t happening and keep things casual and maybe in six months or so They might catch feelings and then W/we’ll deal with it. Or never. Whichever.

There’s an incident during play. Nothing major, a misplaced slap leaves my ear ringing and in agony with what i’ll figure out tomorrow is a ruptured eardrum – it heals fast and easily but i see them wobble with guilt. W/we both need aftercare a little more than before that night. i sink into Their arms and lay my head on Their chest and listen to Them breathe. i’d like to stay here forever. But W/we don’t do this and i’m conscious in my spaced out state i might be letting too much show. Long before i want to, i disentangle myself from Their body and They take me home.

heard the risk is drowning, but i’m gonna take it

They’re an overthinker, and the next morning when W/we check in They text me a numbered list of what’s rattling round in Their head – 1, 2, and 3 are all reflections on the scene. W/we’re playing heavier than They’re used to – confronting an inner darkness They weren’t entirely prepared for. My injury is playing on Their mind, and yes, They definitely noticed the aftercare was more intimate. There’s a pause, the typing dots, and another text appears.

“And honestly 4. I like you. And I don’t know what to do with that”

i reassure Them that it’s not just Them and i’m relieved when They suggest a coffee rather than trying to figure this out by text. i can feel Their fear through the phone and my hands are shaking too. Because this is, undeniably, what i want. But what if i’m not ready? i might not know what i want at all and They might not be right for me but even worse – what if They are? What if W/we are perfect for each other, meant to be, and by jumping in too soon i fuck myself up, fuck Them up, and ruin everything that could have, should have been?

W/we meet on the Quayside and walk with O/our coffees in the winter sun. The air feels almost crystallised and O/our breath clouds in front of us but i feel warm for the first time in ages, like i’m thawing out.

W/we talk kink, drop, guilt and shame – because that needs focus too. They’re meeting me where i live, in the darkest parts of ugly beauty, in degradation and the more visceral, dirty violence i crave. And They want that too – but it’s new, it’s terrifying, and They need someone to guide and reassure Them through it just as i did.

And W/we talk feelings – something much scarier than any kink. W/we agree that W/we both have good reasons not to dive straight into a relationship – to take things slow, to get to know each other, to go on a proper date and see where it goes.

They walk me to the bus stop and i want to kiss them, desperately. It seems so silly that with all the things W/we’ve done, W/we’ve not actually done that – and that it feels like such a terrifying step. i’m not going to be the one who asks. But at the bus stop, with the orange lights bearing down on U/us and only seconds to spare They ask – “can I kiss you?”

They pull me in and W/we stumble until They’re leaning against the bus stop, i want to drown in Them, i want to stay in these few seconds forever. But my bus pulls up, the queue clears, and i have to run for the doors.

on a Wednesday in a cafe, i watched it begin again

They give me the task of choosing the restaurant for O/our first date. W/we don’t have a dynamic yet, but W/we have a spark of something between U/us, a flow of power neither of U/us could stop now if W/we tried. And this is absolutely a power move. They’ve figured me out right away – i hate decisions. That’s a not-insignificant part of why i like having a Dominant. But They’re a Sadist as well as a Dominant and so i’m texting friends frantically and browsing menus online. There is no wrong answer, i know that, i’m being ridiculous and how well the date goes definitely doesn’t hinge on which restaurant i pick, but it still feels like a life or death decision.

i choose one recommended by a friend – Pinocchio’s. It’s central, cute, cheap enough i don’t feel like i’m taking the piss because i suspect They’ll offer to pay, but not so cheap i look like a gremlin who doesn’t know anything classier.

i get there thirty minutes early, They get there five minutes late, which sums us both up well. They will always be quite relaxed about time, though not enough to be inconsiderate, and i will always be convinced that i am a Big Problem and In Trouble if i’m not early. They’ll teach me to relax a bit, and i’ll help keep Them organised. But tonight W/we’re just two scared people vibrating with nerves and not ordering the spaghetti because W/we don’t want to look like disasters.

And it is a little scary, talking about O/our lives and – just a little bit – about U/us as a concept. But it feels right too, like W/we fit together in ways W/we’re only just beginning to imagine.

They take me home and strip me out of my clothes, and They go down on me. i think – that’s nice, but it won’t work, because it almost never does and They are too new to me to have me even close to figured out. And then it does, and i’m shaking and twitching and gasping under Them wondering how the hell They managed that.

Then, for the first time, i fall asleep in Their arms.

You could be the one that i keep and i – i could be the reason You can’t sleep at night

W/we tried really hard to take it slow. i promise W/we did O/our best. W/we didn’t call it a relationship, W/we were “dating”.

And O/our dates were perfect. W/we had a muddy walk round Gibside where i ended up soaked almost to the knees and W/we talked about what an ideal power dynamic looked like for U/us both, O/our feelings on monogamy, and the details of O/our lives blended naturally into conversation as W/we got to know each other better. W/we went to kink events together – munches and a play munch where They beat the shit out of me again but this time with an audience. W/we walked for hours around Durham for the Lumiere Festival, taking in the lights, taking in each other, awestruck under the multicoloured sky with Their fingers entwined with mine.

W/we dated, W/we took it slow, for two whole weeks.

is it cool that i said all that? is it too soon to do this yet? ‘cause i know that it’s delicate

It’s November 26th. Curled together on Their couch, They give me that nervous “I’m about to say something risky” look. W/we’ve been doing a lot of that. “i like You a lot” and “I appreciate you so much” dancing around what W/we actually want to say, mentions of the future always qualified with hypotheticals and “if this works out”.

“Can I ask,” They say, “what are W/we?”

There are rules i follow now – just a few self care basics. Already i’m spending more time with Them than at home. When W/we’re not together W/we text non stop. This is working, and W/we’re both all in.

“i think W/we’re in a relationship,” i say. “If You think so too?”

After the all-important Facebook update to “in a relationship” is done, i realise i’m not being fair. i’m so afraid of being hurt or rejected or feeling like too much that i’ve made Them do every scary step – like some emotionally unavailable fuckboy holding out until They chase me. And that’s not how i’m feeling at all – how i’m feeling is a little unhinged, if i’m honest. They have rapidly become the most important person in my life and however much of Them i have i never stop craving more, closer, all of what W/we are and can be. So for once, i take the scary step forward.

“i love You”

They say it back, and confess so many of those “I like you” texts have been code for a while. W/we’re failing at slow. W/we’re in rapid freefall and there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.

W/we do at least agree that Christmas is too soon for me to meet Their family. i’ll come to stay for a few days before, and a few days after, but Christmas day itself They’ll be driving south for a visit and They’ll bring me back over on Boxing Day. Driving me home on Christmas Eve, They’re quiet, sad, and won’t admit it to me when i ask. i suspect They’re sad about not spending Christmas together, but i also suspect i’m being delusional (They’ll tell me a few weeks later that i was spot on).

On Christmas Day i think of an idea, but i think it might be insane and pushy and bad. i run it by my flatmate and she thinks it’s cute. i run it by a friend and they think its cute too. i debate and faff and stress and ultimately decide to just do it – my instincts have been right with Them from the start. i need to trust this.

They text me when They’re setting off home and let me know They think They’ll be there by 11.30pm. They’ll text me before bed, and come and fetch me tomorrow morning. i pack a bag, and pre-order a taxi.

i’m still 15 minutes away when They text to tell me They’re home, and i panic. They’ve been out all day, They’re tired, They might actually be asleep before i get there. And then what? i text as many questions as i can think of as the taxi inches its way up through the hills into the night, and finally i see the glow of Their lights. i hover by the door, and text one final question.

“Do You like surprises?”

The reply comes – “yes” – and i knock.

“Good surprise,” They reassure me against my neck as They squeeze me so tight i might pass out. “Good surprise.”

surrender my heart, i’m out here in the open. i wanna get closer, i’ll believe in You every night

When They suggest that location tracking could be a fun element to add to O/our growing power dynamic, i am suspicious that They might not like surprises as much as They said. It’s now impossible for me to surprise Them – the notifications on Their phone will give me away. They reassure me that’s definitely not the reason and W/we laugh about it as i install Life360. It’s not something i’ve ever thought of as kink before – with all my range of perversions They’ve introduced me to something new. And i like it. W/we add cameras to my bedroom in the flat too, and i find out how much lack of privacy works for me.

In return i suggest free use, and They are immediately keen.

“So how would it work?” They ask. “Like a bracelet, or a fridge magnet or something that you use to let Me know you’re up for it?”

“No, Mx,” i say. “Free use means free use. i’m always up for it, even when i’m not. Especially when i’m not, actually.”

That blows Their mind a little bit, but it doesn’t take Them long to embrace it.

They introduce me to protocol – i’ve done a bit but They like a little more formality than i’m used to and it’s something i’ve always wanted to explore more. i’m on a 5 strikes before a punishment system as W/we settle into O/our new normal, and i rack up strikes thick and fast with forgotten protocol. But i learn it – with enough practice and punishments. And i love it. It becomes as natural as breathing.

They stop me peeling my skin off, which is an awful habit mostly centred on my fingers but lately around a really satisfyingly pickable patch of dry skin on my neck that was a spot about 6 months ago, then a big crater of a scab, then a lovely callous i can peel forever. It’s about an inch across now. With Their firm direction, it heals.

They collar me in January – i’ve come to Them a day earlier than planned after a wobble of insecurity sent me into a spiral and They immediately called and said, “I’ll come pick you up now.” W/we talk it through, They reassure me, and then They unpackage the collar W/we hadn’t expected to lock around my neck until the weekend. It clicks into place. i am Theirs.

‘cause i don’t know how it gets better than this, You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless

They’re new to heavy psychological play, and They wobble more than once. W/we talk, i guide Them through it, and say again and again – “my limits are hard to reach, that doesn’t mean You have to. W/we play in Your comfort zone.” But They crave the same things i do, They’ve just never been invited into such a dark inner world before and confronting Their own desires there scares Them. But neither of us can deny how much They want it too – the first time They fuck me cuffed and crying begging Them to stop They cum fast and hard, panting and shaking as They collapse against me. “i think W/we found Your thing,” i say, and They manage to gasp out “yeah,” as They pull me close.

i’m new to playing with someone 6’5 who hits like a goddamn truck. At first, i bruise beautifully. After a while, my butt feels like old leather and it’s rare i bruise at all. Before Them i’d only just barely dabbled with cunt impact – light slaps and crop taps. They introduce me to punches, kicks, and a vicious rubber paddle nicknamed ‘The Evil One’ that i can just manage a couple of hits with. Eventually, i’ll feel safe and submissive enough for Them to be the first person to hit my chest too. As i broaden Their horizons for emotional sadism, They broaden mine for physical masochism, perfectly in balance.

W/we are both new to public play events, but i have had enough experience of private play parties and group sex to be fairly chill about stripping down and getting caned in front of strangers. They struggle with nerves, but with me by Their side They grow in confidence and find Their place in the kink community after years of kinking in isolation. W/we meet each other’s friends, too, and O/our worlds blend more and more with every passing day. W/we just fit – Their stability and certainty balancing my chaos and my fears, my extroversion coaxing Them out into the world as i say again and again – let’s go on an adventure.

i’m on my guard for the rest of the world, but with You, i know it’s no good

From early days, i feel secure with Them in a way i never have before. No stress, no drama, just absolute certainty about how They feel about me and what They want. But i am still a traumatised little bundle of insecurities sometimes and my last relationship did end quite abruptly a month before i was due to get married so… you know. i’m only human. i wobble sometimes. i get on the pill (“no babies, just breeding”) and hormones turn me into a wreck for a month or so as i adjust. i sometimes feel like a huge burden and a pain in the ass when i ask for reassurance already knowing practically word for word what They’ll say and how much better i’ll feel once i hear it. But They hold me through it, and those fears fade. i’m a mess but i’m Their mess and They choose me again, and again, until i start to believe i deserve it.

“I want to love you like you’ve never been loved before,” They tell me, and it takes some time to understand. Because i have been loved – truly and well by good people. Relationships can end, but i have known love. The longer They love me the more i understand – They have the skills to crack open my broken parts and let the love into the places i hide. They have the dependability to be a foundation for me when i feel lost and afraid. They teach me to let Them love me like i have never been loved before, not because of other’s faults but because i didn’t know how to be loved like this. They help me to make myself whole.

You can hear it the silence, You can feel it on the way home, You can see it with the lights out – You are in love

W/we’re doing the thing again – the oof, scary hiding behind hypotheticals and vague future plans. But for good reason, really – W/we’ve been together just under 3 months and i’m here 3 or 4 nights a week. W/we’re talking about what it might be like to live together.

There are practical things to consider, so W/we do in that strictly hypothetical if not when way – i have two cats, They’ve never lived with an animal. i own my flat, and my ex-turned-flatmate lives in it, there’s some admin attached to that. So eventually i decide to be brave again and broach the subject of when.

“No wrong answers,” i say. “And no rush. But it’d be good to have a rough idea of what W/we need to get us to that point so W/we can plan ahead.”

They ponder for a moment. They can’t think of anything missing. i can’t think of anything missing. Half my stuff is in a mountain on Their bedroom floor. i’ve taken to working from Their house at least half the week so W/we sometimes spend 5 days straight together. My flatmate regularly accuses me of having moved out.

“Now?” They ask.

“Now?”

Now.

W/we pick up the cats and release two hairy demons into Mx’s perfect home. One of Them finds a hidden corner to piss in immediately, the other starts shedding his hair in clumps on every surface he can reach. Welcome to cat parenthood. i warn Them about my stuffie collection, They say They can handle it, and then W/we literally fill the car with my selection of pals and They are horrified.

i worry, because of who i am as a person, that bringing my entire life into Mx’s house might make Them regret the invitation, but They never complain (apart from, reasonably, about the cat piss sometimes. W/we invest in a fancy hoover-mop contraption.) They reassure me, welcome me, make space for me. They take me shopping for a table to use as an altar in the bedroom – They’re an atheist and my beliefs occasionally make Them a bit nervous (“what are you summoning?”) but They want me to have a real home here. W/we shop for furniture, W/we settle in.

pick me up, hold the door, say i’m Yours then hold my hand in public, drive an hour, buy me flowers, kiss me now ‘cause You know i fuckin’ love it

And it never gets hard. W/we never have anything that could be called a fight. One time They grumble at me in the night for taking up the whole bed, i get triggered and cry, and They apologise. One time They snap at the cat for pissing in another forbidden place, i get triggered and cry, and then W/we talk in more depth about how W/we balance my need to feel safe with the normal human need to be mad about things sometimes, and W/we navigate and W/we love each other and W/we are pretty fucking good at this.

They come out for drinks with some of my friends, and afterwards one of them tells me – “they look at you like you’re the best thing they’ve ever seen.” But more than that, They treat me like that too. Not just in the early days, not some temporary honeymoon period that fades away. They treat me like at at 7am over morning cigarettes and on the couch when W/we’re both loaded with colds, They treat me like that when i am having an anxiety attack because i thought my mum was phoning me (it was Uber Eats, i am mental) and when the cat pisses on the carpet again. They treat me like that when i am running around the Metro Centre holding a 3 foot tall Build a Bear cow after i said i’d try to stop buying pals. His name is Bevo, he likes sports and he screams if you try to remove him from the bed.

In O/our dynamic, i have many tasks to do and rules to follow. But my most important goal, that i set for myself, is to make Them feel as loved, supported, and appreciated as They make me. They deserve that more than anyone i’ve ever known.

You lift my feet off the ground, You spin me around, You make me crazier, crazier

Along with me, Taylor Swift moves into O/our home. Mx has an incredible speaker system that syncs up in every room and once They give me access i am relentless in my Swiftie madness. My ex has relinquished the Eras Tour tickets to me and for a few months O/our living room is covered in beads. The tradition of brunch club starts around then – where O/our friends come round to do crafts and eat the mountain of breakfast food i make. They study the Holy Discography of Taylor in preparation for O/our date of the tour, Liverpool night 1.

A few days before, on Edinburgh night 1, i get an email. “You’re off the waiting list.” i scream, faff, and waste time calling a friend to see if they’re up for a trip and the limited batch of tickets disappear. The next morning i reload Ticketmaster without much hope, and try again every half hour just in case. At 10.30am i secure 3 tickets for that night.

They run in from the garden, muddy to the elbows. i text O/our fellow Swiftie friend at work and their productivity takes a dive, they’re already packed just in case and W/we’ll pick them up in 2 hours. Mx is hiring a car because Their electric one won’t make it there and back without a charge. i’m cramming handfuls of bracelets into a bag and picking an outfit as fast as possible (i end up in shorts, yes, at the first show Taylor ever wears gloves for the TTPD set because it’s so cold she won’t be able to play guitar otherwise. i am too excited to notice when my legs go numb.)

“I’ve never done anything like that,” Mx says, when the tears and damaged vocal cords have settled down. “I love how spontaneous you are.”

W/we do it all again for Liverpool, but with more notice, better seats, and – no, not a warmer outfit, i freeze again. She plays Mine and i sob so hard i choke on my own tears – partly because Speak Now is my favourite album and Taylor Fucking Swift can see me in my all purple outfit right now as she sings one of my favourite songs… but mostly i think because i am Theirs and They are here with me and these adventures wouldn’t be the same without Them.

flash forward and W/we’re taking on the world together

W/we take O/our first holiday together in October, and one of Their friends comments on how it’s a big step. But W/we’re good at big steps and this is the slowest one W/we’ve managed! They put the decision to me, again, but this is an easy one.

W/we go to Cyprus.

Because it all started there, really. Wishing They were there, trying not to text Them, speed running my healing era because i needed to be ready. i needed to make my heart a place i could let my feelings for Them grow. i fell in love under the Paphos sun and i wasn’t ready to face it then but now i’m here, i’m Theirs, and W/we made it. W/we drink, W/we tan, W/we eat, and on O/our last day W/we drive all the way into the mountains to the highest point in Cyprus, and stare out across peaks and clouds. It feels like W/we’re on top of the world.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

i get a sinus infection on the flight back and i feel like i’m dying a couple of days later when my aurora alert vibrates my phone. i’ve followed them for a while, but never caught one – and it promises to be a big one. “Get out, now,” it says and i stand up in my pyjamas dripping with sweat and slightly delirious with fever.

“Can W/we go out, Mx?”

W/we get in the car and They drive, fast. The burst has started but even though this is the wilderness by my standards, there are too many houses and streetlights here for a truly dark sky. W/we race to the middle of nowhere, cut the lights, and stand in the freezing air as i shiver, sweat, and adapt to the darkness.

And the night begins to glow.

Green first, a haze my phone can see before me but as it strengthens and my eyes adapt it blooms, spreads, and flows like water across the starry sky. Red flickers at the horizon, a glow like fire hidden by the curve of the earth. They hold me close as W/we both experience the aurora for O/our first time, W/we watch until i can no longer bear the cold and They take me home.

You changed something inside me, i’m not who i used to be, loving You, loving You is easy

It’s been a year. And it feels like it’s gone in a blink – one moment i’m standing on a bridge with Their hand in mine watching the lights in Durham dance across the cathedral walls, the next i’m on a windswept hill leaning against the car with Their arm around me, slippers growing damp as forces of nature turn the sky to emerald. And at the same time, it feels like forever – like always, like the most solid foundation i have ever known. Like They were waiting for me, and i for Them, and this moment right here was always coming for U/us, crashing into U/us, more powerful than the tide. i am Theirs, and in being Theirs i am more myself, more confident, more at peace. i love, and am loved, more than i knew was possible.

these are the hands of fate, You’re my Achilles heel, this is the golden age of something good and right and real

Happy Anniversary, Mx