Girl on the Net

Some people spend their spare time knitting, while others prefer more dangerous hobbies – abseiling, base jumping, exploring tiny dark caves that they might get stuck in – the kinds of activities that get their adrenaline racing. The same is true of kink. While many will be satisfied with a little light bondage and some occasional role play with a safe word, others like to dive deeper and kink things that others find far more scary. There aren’t many people I’d commission to write a guest blog about consensual gaslighting, but Jenby – who’s tackled things like surveillance, tongue-stapling and Total Power Exchange with extremely enthusiastic consent – is right up there. So! Today she’s here to talk about gaslighting as kink. And although I know it sounds like a cliché to tell you ‘don’t try this at home’, I’m going to say it anyway. As a general rule, the darker and more potentially harmful a kink is, the better you need to be at playing safely and communicating and all those important things. I would no more trust a stranger to write this post than I’d follow a stranger into a dark cave without safety rope and proof of competence. But Jenby’s written so much before from her eagerly submissive perspective that I rate her as an expert spelunker of kink’s darkest and twistiest caves, so if anyone can talk gaslighting as kink, it’s her.

Note that this piece does exactly what it says on the tin: discusses gaslighting as kink play. It also features ‘Daddy’ as an honorific – everyone in this story is over the age of 18. 

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It’s cold, so he wears gloves. He’s trying out new ‘looks’ lately, so they’re leather. Well… the vegan equivalent of leather at any rate. Soft, black, expensive. They cushion and protect his palms when he thwacks me on the arse.

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Not to brag, but I think I’ve got great wanking game. Of all the things I do in life, masturbation is the thing that consistently brings me the most joy for the lowest cost. I’m not going to argue I’m the world’s most creative wanker, though. A significant amount of my wanking is purely functional: I do it because I’m bored, horny, hungry, in need of comfort. To get me to sleep or to distract me from nicotine cravings. I have picked up a few tips over the years though – mostly from other sex bloggers, friends, and partners who are kind enough to tell me in detail about their masturbation habits. So I thought for this year’s Masturbation Month post I’d share a few fun ideas along with suggestions for toys that might inspire you to spend more quality alone time with your junk.

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One of my favourite songs by The Beautiful South, Prettiest Eyes, tells the story of a lifelong love by the lines it has drawn on the face of the singer’s beloved. “Line one is the time that you, you first stayed over at mine. And we drank our first bottle of wine. And we cried.” Life makes its mark on you, if you’re lucky enough to keep living it. The lines you draw tell a story about how you’ve lived. In the spring of 2026 I drew these lines.

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Remember a while back when I wrote about how great it is to have tits? This week’s blog post is on a similar theme, but with a different incredible body part. It’s a post I have desperately, eagerly, fervently hoped someone might write, because I want to experience and feel the perspective on genitals I do not have myself. So please give not just a warm welcome but a standing ovation to Kara, who has written a guest blog about the joy of having a cock that is so evocative and descriptive I almost felt myself getting a ghost boner as I read it. Take it away Kara…

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