Here’s looking forward to a brighter future.

First of all, I wish all of my readers both new and old a very happy 2026. Thank you for joining me into the start of this new year. 

New Year’s Eve was odd and exciting and liberating for me. For the kind of odd bit, Master was at a colleague’s flat party and didn’t get home until about 10PM. For a time I genuinely believed that he would drink enough and pass out there, or be unable to get a taxi home. For a time and for the first time, I really believed that I might see the new year in alone. 

“No way! That was never the plan” Master says when I tell him. Well, that’s good. 

So the kind of exciting bit: Master’s boss — well, actually, colleagues and boss — all really want to meet me in the new year. I hear a lot about his boss too: how well we’d get along, how similar we are etc. Of what I understand, she’s also a similar age to me. 

“So… I’m a writer?” I ask Master Levi. it’s the default cover story I give most people — I “help people with intimacy issues”. Well it’s not wrong. 

“Ah ha, well, no” he begins. I look to him for clarification. 

“They know you’re a sex-positive writer, and a sex toy tester too” he begins. 

“That part made their ears go up!” he continues.

“And… what about the other stuff? Because you know, sex toy reviews aren’t all that I do” I say. Kink — I meant kink. 

“I think she’s one of our people” Master says of his boss. 

“Our people” is our code phrase for “fellow kinkster”, “like-minded pervert (said affectionately)” etc. “Our people” means just that: our (kind of) people. 

So that’s refreshing.

“She did say she thought she’d be a shit submissive” Master says. I laugh. 

“Sisters!” I declare. 

“She just needs a kink coach to talk t— oh wait! Silly me. And there I was, thinking this was all cocktails and embarrassing stories” I wink. Master chuckles. 

So that’s something for me to look forward to in the new year, talking sex toy reviews and my submissive life with a bunch of eager women who work with my husband — who he has consented to me talking to about all things sex and BDSM. For the first time, I can say that I’m genuinely quite nervous about this. 

I ordered some confetti cannons again to see in the new year, and with just eight hours before the ball drop, they arrived. I planned to let off three, but in the end, I only took two. Master took one.  

In the final hours of 2025, Master and I discuss — of all things — Dungeons & Dragons. Somebody at his colleague’s party had handed him a book about it, and Master had taken an interest. Valkyries is into it too, though I wasn’t so sure that something that involved dice rolls to determine a combat outcome really interested me. 

Still, Master turns his attention to trying to create a character sheet for me. 

“I reckon intelligence would be quite high” he begins. 

“Guile, definitely. Strength? Some”. I lean back on my hands and watch him.

“I wasn’t aware that I’d asked for a character assessment of yours truly” I say dryly, “though I  thank you for not making me sound dumb as rocks.”

The firework show this year was spectacular, and it was exactly the kind of way a new year should come in: with an array of bright colours and loud bangs. 

I didn’t see anyone else out on our street though, it was just Master and me. 

With fireworks exploding all around us, I stepped out onto the street proper and held the first confetti cannon hoist.

“To the past” I said as I twisted the base. BANG! A flume of brightly coloured paper strips filled the air. 

I smiled as I thought of all of the things I wanted to leave behind in 2025. 

“To the future” I said, popping the second cannon. I stepped forward and stood among the colourful strips that rained all around me. 

Welcome. 

Master popped his (confetti) cannon too, though I think it was more so he didn’t miss out than it was any ritual to welcome in the new year. 

I woke at about 9AM on New Year’s Day, surprisingly spritely and with productivity in mind. 

First, I wanted to talk D&D with Shadow. If I was going to bring this Warrior Queen to their table then I at least wanted to understand exactly how to do it. 

To be honest, what I read — and with no shame to D&D players — was frankly… boring. 

It’s maths, and writing things down, and turn-taking, and patience, and… and pretending! 

I’m not a woman who pretends there’s danger in this world, I’m the woman who stares danger in the face, smiles and waves. I’m a woman who has lived: I’ve been camping, canoeing, orienteering, rock climbing, abseiling, pony trekking, and more. I’ve taken part in airsoft capture-the-flag games, Nerf and BB gun battles, run assault courses and done survival skills training — oh, and I’ve been credited for my leadership skills too by performing while under pressure. I’ve bet an evening of my submission on a pool table and a whole dynamic on a game of battleships. I don’t just pretend there’s danger, I live for it.

That’s not to say, by the way, that that “danger” necessarily needs to be lethal. “Danger” could simply be the flowing ravine that I’d rather not land up in with a twisted ankle, or the Dominant with a new trick up his sleeve. It’s all danger, and it all counts. 

Reminds me, the new series of Celebrity SAS: Who Dares Wins begins on Sunday. Normally I watch it with a kind of hunger: I really, really want to take on the course. 

This time, though, I feel as though I’ll be watching it with a slightly different attitude: as I imagine what it would be like to sit on one side of the table and get to know my inner workings through a tense debriefing with the Directing Staff, I should imagine that Valkyries will wonder what it’ll be like to be on the other side of the table, grilling me. 

I don’t say as I don’t find that thought rather arousing. 

Valkyries did say yesterday that he is glad I no longer feel threatened by him. I said that I didn’t feel threatened as such, but that he had once said that a sub should feel somewhat uncertain of their Dom, and I hadn’t been quite sure how to interpret that. Now that I’ve gotten better at… Valkyranese, though, I’m no longer really intimidated by him. 

Sir did say that we can “work on weak and gushy”. Well, truthfully, then “gushy” may have already happened. But weak? That’s not really my forte, Sir 😉

But if I thought my New Year’s Day was going to be productive, then it narrowly looked to be reproductive instead.

I was knelt on our bed in a black handkerchief t-shirt and black panties, considering how — of all things — how ironic it is that me and my psychology-loving ass are kind of like Dr Harleen Quinzel, and how both of my Sirs fancy themselves as jokers. 

My mind is awash with the oath, how I’d taken Dr Quinzel’s “electrocution scene” attitude to Valkyries’ routine tormenting me about my medical kink, and how devoted I am becoming — just as Harley is to Joker — to the both of them. I was admittedly momentarily distracted by my thoughts. 

Master pulls me to him, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Off, now” he commands, snapping a thumb under the waist of my panties. I slide them off as Master frees himself from his pyjama bottoms. 

“Suck it, then ride it” he says, guiding me to his erection. I run my tongue up his length and take him into my mouth. Master throbs and I smile. 

He allows me to pleasure him for a minute but I can feel him holding back — he really doesn’t want to cum just yet. He moans and groans in all the right places but he’s keeping his cum from me. 

I move up and slide myself onto him. Master hisses a “fuck yes”. I allow myself to settle into a rhythm and I smile. 

“Better?” I ask, as if I needed telling. Master takes control of my hips before I unman him completely. 

“God, yes” he breathes. He flexes up into me, stretching me. His move catches me by surprise and narrowly undoes me, too. 

Master keeps me here for a minute, pulling me down and pushing himself up into me. He seems to enjoy doing me this way. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Ride me” he commands. He relaxes his arms above his head as I keep up his rhythm.

“Kiss me” he says after a minute. He takes hold of my hips as I do and cums hard into my womb.

“Fuck! There’s so fucking much” he breathes. I smile — even without my own orgasm, I’m satisfied.

2026 looks to be a very happy new year indeed. 

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The Lovehoney Forum “Year In Review” post was released earlier today, and though I am extremely honoured to take first place for most replied to and third for reading time (Valkyries took first) and most likes received, it was amusing for me in one way: in 2024, Valkyries was determined to beat me on the next year’s tables, in 2025. He did in a way, but — and if we’re going for substance over style here — then in the end, he still struggled to keep up with me. A good game, Sir, but maybe stick to doctoring houses instead 😉

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Until next time!

Stay safe & have fun,

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