I’m sure that quite a few of you have the impression that I am full of the mad dommely skillz.

I’m not.

Technically speaking, I am really rubbish.

You know why?

I don’t care. Seriously.

If I hit a boy with stuff, or bite him, or scratch him, or fuck him, or otherwise play with him, I don’t care if I am elegant, if the strikes are beautiful or if I look fabulous doing it. I can’t do a Florentine flogging (I *so* can’t, and in fact, I am impressed with myself that I even know the term!!), I can’t … Continue Reading

I need a man who can let me access the little boy inside. There is something terribly appealing, something precious about that wide-eyed inner child.

It has nothing to do with age play or infantilism, it has nothing to do with being maternal or a mommy figure.

It has to do with innocence and imagination and a sense of wonder. There is a quality in the men I like where they can open up and offer trust to a level that grown ups have forgotten, they do it in a way that makes you imagine that they have never really … Continue Reading