The Diary Of A Submissive: A True Story by Sophie Morgan Read Free Book Online Page B

was far from home and with very little opportunity for a social life, bar post-deadline drinks as we deconstructed how our stories had been subbed. My best friend from college, Ella, had found a job on a paper twenty miles away, so I saw her as much as possible, but with weekend jobs, evening jobs and everything else going on, I spent a lot of time alone.
    But while switching on my little portable heater didn’t feel like a necessity, an internet connection did. It provided me a way to email and social network with friends from uni and my journalism course, keep in touch with my family, play games, and then, when I was feeling lonely and like I wanted to flirt with someone, gave me a space not only to chat to people who were similarly bored and looking to talk but also to discuss things that I’d never dare broach in person.
    I genuinely think that the internet has, for all intents and purposes, changed the landscape of sexuality. No matter how perverse your kink, you can bet there is someone out there on the web who shares it. Unfortunately, there’s probably another three who actually think your kink is not perverted enough and given half a chance will tell you how the way they do it is more intense/sexier/just outright better than yours. Frustratingly enough, the most noticeable thing about dipping a toe into the BDSM subculture online is that there’s as much judging of each other from inside the ‘lifestyle’ – I promise that’s the last timeI’m using that phrase as I think it sounds pretentious in the extreme – as there is from the outside.
    That said, there are some lovely people out there, once you look past the slightly odder ones. I’ve had some amazing, sexy and intelligent conversations with people I’ve met on various sites, who’ve sparked my imagination, reassured me, even become good real-life friends.
    You do have to wade through some crap though.
    I joined my first smut site the year I started work. Apart from those interludes with Ryan, which kept me in wank fantasies for years afterwards, I hadn’t met anyone who’d interested me sexually at all, much less shown any obvious signs of being compatible with my burgeoning submissive tendencies. I was so focused on work and my day-to-day life that taking the effort to finding anyone felt too much like faff. That, paired with a penchant for
literotica.com
porn, which read as hot and yet very unreal to my ever-practical eyes, meant I figured my fantasies would stay just that. Over time I even wondered if perhaps I was romanticizing my experiences with Ryan. Could pain actually have brought me that much pleasure, or was I just looking back with rose-tinted glasses on a sexy time in my life?
    Then, over a drink a friend told me about a site she’d stumbled across that was basically a chat and dating site for kinky people. The details she gave were vague – and heaven forfend I would ask her outright about it, thus betraying my interest – but there was enough info there that when I got home and did a bit of Googling I found my way to where I wanted to be.
    Some people say that nowadays these kind of sites arefull of fakes, cliques and people wanting you to pay them. I didn’t notice many pros but, fresh out of uni and on a trainee reporter’s wage, if someone was looking for someone to fleece it was never going to be me. It felt like a whole new world full of people who knew each other and were talking a language that I didn’t quite grasp, with many using an elaborate form of pronouns (always capitalized for the dominant, always lower case for the submissive no matter whether it was the start of a sentence or the word ‘I’), which I found ridiculous. I decided quickly that committing crimes against grammar was a hard limit for me.
    The message boards were filled with people talking about events they’d been to, things they’d bought, stuff they’d done, some of which made me wet, some of which made me shudder. I read people discussing