It took all of 24 hours and I’ve already rescinded on my decision to stop my diary posts. There are numerous reasons for that.

First of all, my narrative voice just… would. Not. Shut. Up. It would not be quiet. A few hours passed and my mind starts narrating again. Methinks us writers are just meant to write!

Secondly, Mister Valkyries wasn’t happy with my decision to stop. Even if he understood my reasons, I know he enjoyed my diary posts. I did suggest we move to the Embrace app instead, but maybe that’s not the solution. Sigh.

Also, I think more writing when I have five minutes and something to say, rather than because it’s a Wednesday or a Saturday and I’m scheduled to write something. Less narrating the boring everyday stuff, maybe, more sharing the things that actually matter.

Third, I will absolutely will not be proof-reading my diary posts with bloody ChatGPT. Chat’s great, but it’s always tone-checking me and suggesting I interject things so I so sound bolder and more confident (or more of an ass) than what I really want to appear. It also insists I “join up the dots” so that my life makes sense to my readers, but sometimes life doesn’t make sense, even to me!

Finally, I won’t be using a name as such for my neighbour anymore, he will just my “the neighbour” or “my neighbour” instead. Perhaps that’s all he really needs to be in my story.

I did have more of a heart-to-heart with Valkyries last night, about everything. I understand how much being a “Master” means to him, and it’s not that I’m not interested, but the discerning bit of my brain is watching me with her eyebrow raised. It sounds good, and he does sound good on paper, but how do I know?

Valkyries wants me to go crashing into his arms, but maybe I’m not that type? Maybe “surrender” for me looks more like “fine, I won’t shoot you today”, rather than something right out out of 1950’s Hollywood? Maybe I’m never going to be the calm, sweet, submissive type, and just maybe, I don’t even want to be. There’s too much fire in my belly for that.

I don’t want the Dom like all the other Doms that wants the “good” girl; I want the Dom that looks at my fiesty, spirited nature and thinks “that’s my girl”. That, there, is my man.

Valkyries mentioned his Dom “training” too, and it causes that eyebrow to raise a tiny bit higher. Dom training? In all of my twenty years in the BDSM community, I’ve never heard of such a thing! In fact, so much so that I even had to ask Valkyries to clarify what this “Dom training” thing meant!

DOM training? I’ve heard of sub training, obviously, but “DOM training”? That’s new to me.

Well it sounds good — proper equipment handling, aftercare and such — but I’d never known it as “Dom training” before. It was called “mentoring” where I come from, and I think that’s the word most people I know in the BDSM scene to use.

I know that, since Friday, I’ve been on the cusp of surrender anyway, and “Master” is a word that’s been hanging on my lips too. Even if I wanted to keep my guard up a while longer, Valkyries knows how to play with my brain in that way that makes my skin tingle and my thoughts tune out. Hypnotic and cruel, if only he meant it to be.