Some sins don’t need absolution.

I know that I haven’t written anything in a few days, and I apologise. Honestly it’s been kind of a weird week, not entirely a bad week, but a weird week all the same. 

Last weekend Valkyries told me about a job opportunity in the Czech Republic that he was considering applying for. I felt myself pull back again. 

I knew it! I knew this was all too good to be true. I knew I shouldn’t have let myself get too close!

I could feel my old self batten down the hatches and put the barricades back up. There was no point in allowing for our closeness if he was going to… You know… go. 

Or maybe I was being a bit dramatic here? I mean, nothing is set in stone yet, and Valkyries did say there are people younger than him who also applied, and who, in retrospect, are probably more likely to get the role than he is. So maybe I was panicking unduly? Maybe this was all something over nothing. 

Plus, Valkyries did say that flight time between Prague and Bristol is just two hours. It used to take Master about the same amount of time to get home from work each day. Sure that was on the buses, rather than on a coach with wings, but you know.  

Maybe we’ll be okay. 

Wednesday I ended my friendship with my colleague-in-cuffs — V —  suddenly and quite abruptly. I don’t want to say too much about that (I think we’re probably both hurting) except to say that it was out of preservation for both of us, rather than out of malice. I’d given V all of the advice I had to offer him and I’d helped set him up with his “inner Domme”, but I felt as though he was becoming perhaps a little bit too dependent on me. His eight messages in under twenty minutes kind of told me so. 

I had told V several times that I was his friend, not his Domme, though a few times I felt as though I was being squashed into a Domme-friend role, regardless. Maybe I had considered a dynamic with V for a time, owing to it that we did get along and had similar ideas in mind (though I wasn’t sure how well I could switch without feeling consumed by kink entirely), but V’s barrage of messages had put me off that idea. 

It sucks, badly, but I have seen V active on the Lovehoney Forum since and I am proud of him for heeding my advice. I feel as though I must stay away now though, so that we can both explore our kinky selves — without the risk of becoming dependent on one another. It’s taught me something important too: the people who I coach in kink have to remain my clients in future, no matter how well we might get along! 

Also Wednesday, Valkyries had another surprise in store for me. 

Just as I had pulled away from institutionalised religion, Valkyries is seeking a higher position within it. It was news to me. I mean, I knew Valkyries is involved in his ministry and that’s fine, but I wasn’t aware of quite how far he was planning to go with it!

And I felt a….. Conflict brewing between us. A real one, not a playful flirting-sparring “conflict” like we’ve been engaging in since day dot. 

If you recall, my biggest frustration (and what ultimately drove me from institutionalised religion) is the hypocrisy I’d seen — it was the people I knew in my church who dared to look down on others, who I knew had acted in “un-Christian” ways themselves.

Valkyries has what I sarcastically called (and he now won’t let me forget it!) “a colourful past” — a history of swinging events and casual encounters. To me, then, Valkyries now standing at the lectern and teaching others how to have a relationship with God kind of smacked of hypocrisy as well.

And to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure that I could submit myself to a hypocrite. A standards thing, y’know?

But Valkyries pre-empted me and my little “problem”. In fact, and credit where it’s due, he did something very clever. 

Valkyries said that he was a sinner too, and in that one sentence, he made both of our “sins” okay. After all, Valkyries knows that the reason I felt unaccepted in the church is because I’m both polyamorous and kinky myself. 

So I’ve learned to be okay with his decisions, as I know that I too have been forgiven for my “sins”. So long as he knows that — at least to me — Mr Preacher will always be one very naughty boy!

There has been more: Valkyries has dubbed me K.I.T.T-Y — like the Knightrider car — except in this case, “K.I.T.T,” stands for “Kinky. Insatiable. Tantalising, Tease”. Sometimes I torment him by “jangling the keys“, and I joked about how I was surprised the man with grey flags hasn’t mapped my location on What3Words yet, to which Valkyries responded with the three-words for where my bed is located. We engaged over the sending of first messages too, and I tell Valkyries that my replying was “standard business” — I reply to anyone who emails or messages me.

Valkyries sends me an “RIP” emoji and I laugh out loud. 

It’s cute how the merciless Admiral thinks I should have mercy upon him 😉  

This morning was fun again: Kinky Fuckery Thursdays seem to have fallen beside the wayside now, but Saturday morning sex most definitely happens most weeks. I’d love to say that it was gentle and intimate; it was not. 

Not done with coating my breasts in his seed, Master tongue-fucked me to ecstasy then moved up and bred me anyway. He locked my legs open with his in a move that was rather… new. 

So I spent much of my afternoon processing exactly how I felt about his doing me like that. Not complaining exactly, but perhaps very aware of the sensations of where he’d once been.

This afternoon Valkyries and I talked some about our old naturist days, about naturist beaches in the UK and my old naturist swim. I recalled again my story of David; how close we were to becoming a “thing”. 

David and I used to flirt in a way that wasn’t exactly subtle. Swim club rules stipulated that you weren’t supposed to flirt (because it can charge up sexual energy, which naturism isn’t about), so we used to banter about football teams instead. David supported Bristol City, and my family would practically disown me if I didn’t (at least in spirit) support Bristol Rovers. 

From as soon as I arrived, David and I would be at one another. Even before we could enter the (shared) changing area, we’d be tormenting one another in the corridor. I didn’t feel at all weird about stripping off in front of David — a man. I suppose it never even occurred to me to think he might be looking at me — a woman — sexually. At least not until it did. 

And when the penny finally dropped, that’s when I really had my fun. 

In the water, David would wind me up about how terrible Rovers were doing. I’d shoot back that we were keeping City up (on the league table), that they’d fail without us and he should be grateful. I’d never swim over to David either; David would always swim over to me. 

In the showers I knew David was watching me, so I’d take my sweet ass time, moaning softly about how the water was just so perfectly warm and the jets hit exactly the right places. I’d largely ignore him though, after all, my shower wasn’t about him — it was about me. 

Even in the bar after, the flirting continued. Again, I’d never approach him directly, but I’d eye fuck him and sass him plenty if he approached me. I used to venture out into the little nooks in the hallway too, because I wanted him to chase me there. 

David and I eventually did swap numbers, and we eventually did start texting.

So why didn’t we become a “thing”?

I told David that I was kinky, and he had absolutely no interest in it. That killed my interest in him almost overnight: I couldn’t not have kink in my relationship. 

So I teased Valkyries about the possibilities: what if we’d crossed paths at the pool instead? What if he’d tormented me? Chased me? What if I’d teased him? 

Pray tell, what if if had been him, and instead of a lack of interest, the answer to my little revelation had been “Nice! Me too”?

Now that, really would have been interesting. 

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Until next time!

Stay safe & have fun,

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