The ruby red Carp dip and swirl, gasping mouths gaping like black bubbles bursting beneath. Sunlight, and shadows surround me, and occasionally an iridescent peacock mixes its squawk into the city soundtrack. For the first time this year I’m sitting in the Kyoto garden in Holland Park. A perfect little piece of Japan on my dungeon doorstep.
So this week I am ‘Out of Office’, and coming up for air. As the suddenly leaden sky above me gazes back on itself in the shallow water, I reflect too. What has this year delivered and what has it withheld?
First there were the subversive delights of San Francisco. A city with such abundant colour and character (And kink), and enough rain to warrant an ark. It is of course who you’re with as well as where you are. Dining in a bustling restaurant overlooking the water-logged vineyards of the Napa Valley with my collared slave combined a special mixture of the above. And the below. Of course I couldn’t leave without a memento, and visiting the mecca of Mr S Leather was like meeting a super-hero. My new double-tail whip cracks like no other.
On home turf, Malice HQ has enjoyed accomplished begging, unrivalled agonising predicaments, unsurpassed temptations and delicacies denied. The sweet scent of Euphoria. A new strain of unrelenting sadism has slithered through my veins like a serpent, sinking its fangs and sucking out any reason to show mercy or take pity.
And while some things change, there are always vital constants. My dungeon is my castle, and my sanctuary and sadly cursed by a malevolent force intent on destroying the infrastructure. At least cleanliness and order are upheld by the endeavours of my hard-working house slave. He is part of the furniture – literally. He doubles up as a half-decent foot-stall, albeit a little unstable at times.
In the face of perversity, and at times adversity, laughter is always the second best medicine. It is a vital component of BDSM, (and life in general) no matter how painful or indeed erotic the situation. I will never forget the sudden flash of fear in the eyes of my bound slave as he realised: ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ is perhaps the most stupid thing he’s ever uttered. A surge of crippling volts answer him with unquestionable precision. And somehow we’re both struggling to compose ourselves amidst the sudden onset of hysteria and hilarity.
I have also enjoyed artistic expeditions. And champagne-fuelled every-things. The finest shoes. And the most sumptuous stockings. Suffering. Servitude. And Stockholm. So far.
So what has 2017 withheld? Well apart from the usual lack of time to on my side, I think it’s safe to say it wouldn’t dare deny me. I have held my gloved hand over its mouth until its lungs have strained and its eyes have rolled.
But enough of my hyperbole. This week I am on holiday and time is my bitch. I am using and abusing it, wasting it and showing it no mercy. I am also arranging a photoshoot and writing my blog (a few slave prayers answered from afar). And if you’re lucky enough to be in my presence next week then be warned, I will be recharged, rebooted and more Malicious than ever. You will be my carp, my peacock, my Kyoto….and I will show you no mercy.