I have made a new dress, especially for our date. It is in a shiny stiff fabric, moss green, one of my best colours, with a pencil skirt cut just above the knee. It is nipped in at the waist, and has gathers under the bust. It is too smart for the pub, really, but I wanted to impress you. It is too tight to wear a bra underneath, and I have to breathe in to sit down. The heavy fabric mostly disguises my nipples, but not q...

I want you to teach me a lesson with your belt. I want you to bend me over the bed, Lift my dress, Pull down my knickers, Take off your belt, And thwack me with it. And then I want you to do it again. And again, And again, Until my slutty, Bare, Bottom Is sore. And then, I want you to make me thank you for it.

You tell me what knickers to wear. It's a way of having control from a distance, even though we can't meet. I send pictures of the more exciting pairs I own, so you can choose. The rest are basic cotton briefs; I don't bother showing you these. Each morning you text me your choice, and I send a photograph of me wearing them. Sometimes you won't let me wear any. I could change afterwards, but we both know I won't. I wash t...

You manoeuvre through the black-clad crowd to stand next to me at the bar and, straight away, turn to me to ask why I always stare at you. Ah fuck, I think, he's noticed. And there was me thinking I'd been subtle. I have seen you a few times before, but only ever here at this goth night, and I suppose I have been staring, although I've tried not to make it obvious. There's something about you that I find incredibly attrac...