This fabulous kinky piece about writing on skin, and being owned, is written and read by JM Seaborn of Written In Kink. Note that this story contains ‘Daddy’ as an honorific – all participants are consenting adults.

It’s a fun game. Each morning, I make her sit on the bed in her towel. I kiss her forehead and tell her to close her eyes. And then I write a word, high on her inner thigh. She’s not allowed to look until her first break at work. That’s the rule.

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I’m not gonna lie, I absolutely lost my mind at one key moment in this piece. Nearly slid right off my office chair and onto a crumpled, horny heap on the floor. Please welcome back the fabulous Komplicated Kitty, who some of you might remember from her red-hot piece ‘bring it, babe‘ back in November. She’s here today with an account of another intensely sexy BDSM scene, in which her Master orders her into her collar, and then to go clean the kitchen floor. Read on for humiliation, degradation and one very slutty Cinderella…

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I’m super excited to welcome Harley back to the guest blog. In the past he’s talked about the appeal of financial domination (findom), and given a fascinating insight into the appeal of having someone take away your money for kinky reasons. He also brightens up my timeline over on BlueSky @harlequinworks with gorgeous kinky build projects (seriously, check out his website – HarlequinWorks – for kickass projects like installing hard points for rope suspension). I love his work, and I also love his considered and thoughtful take on kink. Today he’s here to give you the lowdown on being a domestic service sub – what misconceptions to people often have about this kind of activity? And what exactly does he get out of doing the chores for a dominant? Take it away Harley…

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Sometimes I feel like part of my body still belongs to him.

Throughout my life I’ve been fucked in so many different ways: like I’m precious; like I’m trash; like they’re hungry and I’m the nearest hot meal… but only one or two men have ever fucked me like my flesh was theirs by right. Fucked me like they owned me. As if my body – my cunt, my thighs, my hands, my mouth, my heart – belonged to them exactly as much as their own. He was one of them.

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Is it that time again already? It comes round quicker with each year that passes and there is literally science to prove that I’m right. Whatever. It’s nearly Christmas, so if you’re looking to pick up something sexy for someone in your life who has a penchant for pervery, I have spent a happy afternoon browsing around the websites of the lovely companies who are kind enough to sponsor this blog so I can nudge you in the direction of a few things you might consider buying. Here’s a Christmas gift guide for kinky people…

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