Borrowed Time

by Matt Triewly


On the 18th November 2008 I collapsed. These are my frank diary entries, thoughts, fantasies from that day. Please note that some of it is quite explicit. It is also a work in progress.

Wednesday 19th November 2008: I Collapse

Funny enough, yesterday morning I had woken up and felt better than I had for a long time. Feeling energised I'd had breakfast followed by a long soak in a very hot bath. This hadn't been a good idea with hindsight. Anyway, after the bath I had then got dressed and feeling motivated had then commenced on giving the flat, and in particular the kitchen, a bloody good clean. In between cleaning I was also drinking quite a lot of tea and also playing the financials on which involved predicting share and commodity prices. I hasten to add that if one kept cool and wasn't too greedy or took too many risks then money could be made; I had once made a £100 in a week and had wondered at the time if I should become a 'professional gambler'.

I have digressed.

Anyway, it was as I was sat down placing a bet that I experienced this strange sensation of the flat, with me in it, being picked up as though by a giant and then being spun round in his hand. I was also aware of objects falling to the floor. I then found myself lying under the table with a load of pens and pencils beside me along with the pot I kept them in. I realised immediately that I had collapsed. The strange thing was that apart from a very slight 'pulsating' of my vision and breaking out into a cold sweat I'd felt physically okay. Psychologically though I was extremely scared. I'd immediately speculated as to whether I'd suffered a stroke or a minor heart attack and decided that the best course of action was to stay where I was for a while as I didn't want to provoke another and more serious attack of what had precipitated my initial collapse. As I lay there keeping as still as possible I speculated reaching up to the table and phoning for an ambulance but decided not to as they would have to break down two doors to get to me. Also, I wasn't that convinced that they could actually do something for me since I had been complaining to my GP for some time that I had been suffering from intermittent dizziness, nausea, clamminess and a strange visual disturbance in which my vision when I turned my head quickly took a second to catch up only for him to tell me that the symptoms were either due to Meniere's Disease or stress. I had once put it to him that it was perhaps the recurrent dizzy spells that were making me stressed, but he ignored that. To be fair he had arranged a CT scan which revealed nothing and subsequently a MRI scan which picked up a very small scar in my brain which at the time they had diagnosed as a 'pinhead' stroke. But after later analysis by a neurologist they decided it was most likely a natural and not uncommon 'fold' in the brain. After these rather unsatisfactory consultations with the GP I had unhappily concluded that either they didn't know what was wrong with me or that the doctor did know what was wrong and that he was protecting me from the knowledge that I was suffering from something serious that nothing could be done about. Either way I had lost faith in the medical profession.

So, I had lain under the table for quite a while and after a short bit I had begun to feel perfectly okay. I had then got up and dragged myself to the sofa where I had lain down and eventually drifted off to sleep. About twenty minutes later now feeling totally recovered I had got up but thinking constantly about what had happened. I soon resigned myself to the depressing fact that I was probably going to die soon and to make the most of life whilst I could. I also called my son, who was twenty-one, and asked him to pop round so that I could have a chat with him.

In the evening I watched a programme, narrated by Ian Hislop, about the large scale closures of railways in Britain and the end of steam. The programme had evoked a strong feeling of melancholy in me not just about the end of the 'golden age' of railways but about my own life. I'd also realised that I was only four days away from the twentieth anniversary of my mother's death and had speculated morbidly that maybe I would die on that particular day.

Phoned up the Company this morning and cancelled my 'sickness counselling' - far too ill. I still haven't told the doctor though Pamela, who's been very good, says she'll go with me. I've taken it very easy all day as I'm still very shaken up by what happened. I do not believe I am long for this world now. I went shopping but found it an ordeal and was glad to get back.

Earlier today I also called James and asked him to pop round so that I could have a chat with him.

Read more of Legion of the Damned - great book.

Pamela also phoned and it was good to talk to her - I feel quite lonely at times.

Thursday 20th November 2008: Visited the Doctor

Visited the doctor this morning and told her what had happened on Tuesday with me collapsing.

She thought it could be a mini-stroke. I mentioned to her that I thought an MRI scan would confirm it but apparently it's too expensive and my treatment would be just the same. She said that I was anxious and that that wouldn't help. I replied that I wouldn't be anxious if I hadn't collapsed. I will be having more blood tests anyway. I also underwent an ECG whilst there and she informed me that my heart had a few problems though she didn't feel that they were acute - great. She apologised for not being able to give me a firm diagnosis (which a MRI or CAT scan could have done). She then asked me what I thought. I told her I felt that I was going to die soon and though I appreciated what she had done I believed that the human body was a complicated chemical reaction which was working its course - some working quicker than others!

Later on I phoned James again and asked him to come over so I could tell him a few things in the event - highly likely - that I should die. He was concerned but I felt it the right thing to do.

I also told my line manager from the Company and got the impression they think I am 'swinging the lead'. I wish.

Pamela says that at the end of the day I am only a number to them and she is right - they will try to cut down my cost to them.

In the afternoon Pamela came round and we watched Il Postino - a brilliant film.

Ronan also phoned up and he thought I should get a second opinion but I know it's cardiovascular and I also need as much money as possible if I'm going to lose my job.

So many regrets I have in life but the biggest one is not being a better father to my son. Also, I should have stayed with one woman all my life and pursued an interesting career. Too late now.

Saturday 22nd November 2008: Feeling Woozy

This morning I got up and felt woozy so took my tablets and went back to bed till I felt a little better.

I'm hoping to see James soon. And today is also the twentieth anniversary of Mum's death.

Thursday 27th November 2008: Fobbed Off?

The practice phoned today and asked me to see the doctor, my regular doctor, about the results of the ECG. I had gone in with a mixture of feelings as on the one hand it was good news that they had finally found out what was wrong with me and perhaps could do something to rectify or treat it. On the other hand it might be that they couldn't do anything about it and that it would only be a matter of time before my condition deteriorated perhaps resulting in my death.

As it happened the doctor casually told me that my 'slightly enlarged heart' was nothing to worry about since many people of my age had enlarged hearts like mine and most of them wouldn't have any symptoms at all. He had added that there was no reason to believe that I wouldn't reach a good old age. I hadn't questioned his diagnosis but as I had left the surgery I had felt 'fobbed off'. Again.

Wednesday 10th December 2008: Felt I Was Going to Collapse

Whilst on the computer this morning I felt for a moment that I was going to collapse but the feeling passed.

I wish that I was well and that I could see my grandson grow up. Alas that won't happen and in a way I wish it was all over as I can barely stand this constant sensation of feeling about to lose balance and collapse.

Changing the subject I have got a new theory about time - or rather a speculation.

Because we can conceive no end of time but cannot conceive of beginning-less beginning then that means that time is fixed at the end i.e. time is flowing backwards but we 'feel' it flowing forwards. Now, exponential decay curves can't start but they do tend to infinity. So, time 'grows' rather than flows and it expands and contracts. It's difficult to explain and I will try to better in my next entry - if I have time!

Tuesday 16th December 2008: Another Attack

I experienced another attack earlier. It felt like I was spinning through space. It probably lasted about twenty seconds. Afterwards I felt sick and wobbly and was sweating with blurred vision. It was about 08:15 this morning.

I managed to get back to sleep and finally got up at about 11:15. I had a little breakfast and have decided to go back to bed. I feel better but still not right.

I must get my affairs sorted and I'll leave a list for my son and the executor. I'll do that later.

As I have said before, I just wish it was all over. I have contemplated killing myself because I feel constantly ill, anxious and that there is no future.

Thursday 1st January 2009: Woman Raped?

It's the New Year and I'm feeling pretty tired as there was a lot of noise outside the flat. Last night there had been a lot of screaming, shouting and crying. I was woken up several times and in the morning when I had bothered to look through the curtains I could see a police car parked outside.

Later on I mentioned the noise to Ulrika and she told me that a woman had claimed to have been raped. I'm feeling a little guilty now as maybe I could have prevented it (if indeed it had happened) had I bothered to look out of the window. The problem is that one just accepts rowdy behaviour as a fact of modern life nowadays.

Sunday 25th January 2009: Trouble Outside the Flat

So, I finally get to bed at about 01:30 and the only decision I have to make is what sordid fantasy I'm going to run through my mind whilst I make love to myself-


What the fuck is that?


I peer through the crack in my curtains down onto the street. It's a very nice street in the day and regarded as 'posh' by many. Unfortunately it's the main thoroughfare between the town with its bars and clubs and the main estate...

There's about seven lads and they've torn off a street sign. They're mooning, scrapping and shouting - cunts. And what's more annoying is they're not moving on. After about ten minutes I decide to call the Old Bill but as I get to the phone my lounge is illuminated by flashing blue lights. Most of them scarper but the slow (and stupid) ones get caught. I was hoping to witness a bit of police rough handling or even brutality but it appears that they are only cautioned. It quietens down but now I'm visualising bare bottoms being seriously birched and yobs screaming and pleading for mercy.

Naturally, I was a model citizen when I was a youth.

Wednesday 28th January 2009: Hot Chocolate with Maria

Maria texted me this morning to see if I fancied meeting up with her in Thorntons for a hot chocolate to which I replied, yes.

Maria is forty-three and I know her through once chatting to her at the Balcony Bar nightclub. That was about three years ago. Since then she has divorced her husband, had an affair, remarried her husband and finally split from her husband (after he had an affair). She's the type of woman I get involved with. Emotionally fucked up.

The important factor though is that she is sexy: lovely dark hair, glossy olive eyes, tanned, and though a little plump, curvaceous.

We'd met outside and she'd insisted on buying as I did last time. We then went up to the counter and was served by the 'Model'. The 'Model' is about nineteen and a very pretty slim brunette with large entrancing charcoal blue eyes. Once when she was wearing a very low cut dress my gaze was drawn to a very beguiling mole betwixt her ample breasts. I confess that I fantasised about shagging her on a couple of occasions after.

Returning back to reality, the Model had asked me if I required marshmallows on my hot chocolate. "No, thanks," I'd replied wondering in return if she would appreciate an offer of hot spunk on her bare breasts.

Having got our drinks Maria had lead the way to a table. Once sat down she then asked me about my ex's, and I must admit I do seem to have an embarrassingly large number of them. However it didn't seem to faze her. She then inquired about Pamela so I explained my relationship with her.

"I'm only friends with Pamela though we do hold hands when we're out. I think she would like to take it further but for some reason I do not feel able to commit to her. I like her as a friend and she is good company."

Maria had been satisfied with my reply. Or had appeared satisfied.

The above is partly true. I did once get Pamela's top off and suck her breasts but she didn't seem very interested so I never bothered again. However, she also recounted a tale (having commented on the lack of discipline in schools today as a pervy does to tease out similar inclinations) of how she was once slippered by the headmaster, with the deputy present to witness, for being involved with bullying as a member of a girl gang. She only got one whack but said it really stung and didn't cry as she refused to display weakness. I have to say I found that rather exciting and must probe more about this incident at some point.

Returning to Maria, I get the impression that all she wants is a bit of uncommitted company now and again - I can cope with that. All the time with her I played the understanding and caring male and the strategy seemed to work as we parted with a kiss and cuddle. I reckon I will be seeing her again.

Afterwards I popped into Somerfield straight after to pick up a few bits and pieces. The background music above the aisles was playing All Night Long - a hit from the eighties. I could never last 'all night long' now, not without Viagra anyway. Still, I felt lifted.

Monday 9th February 2009: Have You Any Weakness?

I had an appointment with the neurologist earlier. During the course of the examination she asked me if I suffered from any weakness? I wanted to say: "A penchant for spanking firm, lily white, naked female buttocks perhaps?" But I didn't.

Friday 13th February 2009: The Future is Today; Tomorrow Never Comes

It's one of my colleague's funeral today. I wanted to go but as I suffered another bout of vertigo I decided to play safe and stay at home. There would be nothing worse than being ill and staggering around drawing attention away from the person who we are there to remember.

I feel a little better now but still not well enough.

It's a shame as he was a real 'Diamond Geezer'. He was one of those that what-you-saw-was-what-you-got. He could laugh at himself too; and more importantly he laughed at my jokes too!

He was only 56 and it was not two months ago that he seemed in good health - seemed. We were informed that he was undergoing a course of chemo and I thought, well at least he's going to fight it. Next, I was shocked to hear, he had died.


I keep thinking: What's the point of it all?

Deafening cosmic silence.

There's a quote from Robin of Sherwood: 'Nothing is forgotten.' But, what is 'it', exactly, that remembers?

Sorry, too heavy.

The only option, I see, however absurd, is to live for the day. The future is today; tomorrow never comes.

Changing the subject...

I am looking forward immensely to the forthcoming 'torture' and 'flogging' of S. Juki is too. Last night I got out a few implements and tried them out gently on her jean clad bum. She concluded that the 'senior' cane is the most painful though the flogger came close. She also is determined to try the cane out on me and after I virtually gave her my copy of Il Postino, her new favourite film! Gratitude, I ask you!

She also told me that she was slippered on a few occasions at school and that that really hurt - something else I can try on one of my victims.

Changing the subject again...

I received a text from Ginger Sue this morning asking how I was. She seems keen to come over and stay the night. As I am still single, a meal, a DVD and a bit of mutual masturbation may be quite pleasant. Ginger Sue is in possession of lovely ivory fat arse which needs a good slap or even a caning. Unfortunately I don't think she's into that. She has got a rather pungent fanny which is interesting. I'll let you know.

Maria, though I had a hot chocolate with her the other day and introduced me to her daughter, still seems to want to maintain her distance. I'm not going to pressurise her. I noticed that she's got lovely tanned arms with alluring just noticeable dark hairs on. I would love to see her naked. But we'll see!


Just taken a picture of my cock on my phone. Don't ask me why - weird day. Anyway, I was reminded of the occasion I sent a picture of my erect cock to the Minger. We had just started dating and it seemed a romantic thing to do. I had waited for her to reply but she never got back to me. A tad miffed I went round and saw her later.

"I've never received it, or any of your texts!" she had said.

After checking the mobile number it appeared I had transposed one of the figures.


Where had I sent it? Or rather whom had I sent it to?

I then had this terrible vision of some little old lady utilising my pride and joy as a screensaver thinking it may have come from the Toadstool and Mushroom Fanciers Society.

I never heard back so it still may be floating about in the ether. I probably could have been charged with indecency. I amended the number and all was well.

The next day the Minger sent me a text the next day informing me that she was about to send a picture of her cunt. I awaited it with pervy anticipation.

Sure enough my message alert sounded. I opened the multimedia inbox. And it was a picture of me.

Witty bitch. Witty fucking bitch!

Sunday 15th February 2009: So, Matt, How Did Valentine's Day Go?

So Matt, I hear you all say, how did Valentine's Day go?

Interesting, interesting...

I didn't surface till late as the tablets sometimes take a while to kick in. After they had I decided to nip up town and get a few things before settling down to the rugby having placed a fiver on the Scots.

In the High Street I bumped into Hopkins who suggested a coffee in the Bagel Shop.

Well, we were sitting outside supping cheap coffee and discussing Economic Nationalism, Distributism and Education amongst other things when 'Bob' strolled past on the opposite side past Thorntons - Bob and his wife (who always reminded me of an old fashioned school teacher), used to be Sharon's (I was with Sharon for just over twelve years) best friends at one time.

Anyway, I said 'hello' to Bob along with something witty. He responded friendly enough but carried on walking. I also suspected (because he lives in East Cowes) he had been round to pay a visit to Sharon who doesn't live too far away.

I also had to laugh inwardly because Bob was affecting his look of Sharon's-still-my-friend-and-I-know-all-about-your-sordid-sadomasochism-coupled-with-all-your-affairs-and-one-night-stands-and-I'm-far-more-moral-than-you-and-Sharon-values-morals-and-one-day-she-may-realise-when-she-dumps-her-current-no-hoper-that-I-was-the-best-one-after-all-and-I'll-have-her-and-you-won't!

I may have overdone the last bit but what the fuck!

But, but, I know something about Bob that he doesn't know I know.

A little background.

Bob was with his wife for many years but it was marriage going nowhere. But, after several years she, however, opted to go somewhere: an elderly rich widower with a dodgy ticker. I have to say that it hasn't quite panned out as she hoped. After ten years the 'ticker' is still ticking. Perhaps I'm being cynical.

Bob was devastated when she left him but I could understand why she did because he smoked and drank heavily, played his music way too loud and was also quite depressing to be around.

I actually used to look forward to working Sundays because Bob would normally turn up in the afternoon and go on endlessly about how badly his missus had treated him.

Mind you, if that wasn't bad enough Sharon used to have another friend who would often turn up as well and she would go on about her split up. A weekend break at Guantanamo Bay would have provided a welcome respite.

On one occasion Bob admitted to Sharon that he wished he'd married her all those years back. I think Sharon politely ignored him and changed the subject. Later, having recounted what he'd said, she told me that she had never fancied him. And never would.

I must admit I'd always had the impression that Bob had fancied her but to be honest I wasn't really bothered, because after me, Sharon wasn't going to opt for another loser (though she did funny enough after we had split up). However Sharon did share with me, a while later, a rather strange incident...

She'd finished work one day and was walking home along her street when she'd spotted Bob's car and because the vehicle had been parked badly she wondered if he'd been drinking. Sharon also knew he didn't have any other acquaintances in the road and was half expecting him to be waiting outside of the house for her.

But, he wasn't.

Now Sharon was always quite lax about security and often left her front door open which she had on this occasion - I hasten to add that this was prior to Sharon and myself purchasing the bungalow. Sharon upon getting in had straight away set about preparing herself some dinner in the downstairs kitchen which was next to the dining room which in turn was next to the main entrance. She had paid a visit to the loo and whilst in there had thought she had heard the front door opening and closing. She hadn't been particularly concerned thinking that it was probably her daughter who frequently visited her.

But it wasn't.

She then checked the door only to discover that it was now locked - odd. Concerned she might have had an intruder she went upstairs. But there was nobody there. At this point she noticed that her bedclothes were rumpled and that there was a slight hint of tobacco and alcohol. Putting two and two together she ventured out onto the street to see that Bob's car had now disappeared.

What she concluded was that Bob had been on the sauce and in his drunken stupor had decided that it would be prudent to go over to Sharon's, walk in, strip off, clamber into her bed, and wait for her. But he must have panicked and buggered off before he was discovered and totally humiliated.

Of course that may not have happened as it's all circumstantial, but me I'm convinced.

So, Bob, keep smiling at me in that smug way of yours because I'm smiling too!

I have again gone off at a tangent.

Having finished our coffees Hopkins and me wandered off to the library where he has a small exhibition. I had a good look round and though I'm not arty I thought some were particularly good. His collection was of a maritime theme and my favourites were 'Medina Road', 'West Cowes' and 'Seaview Slipway'. I adored the warm colours and I would have been more than happy to have hung any of them on my walls. I wish him luck.

After shopping I returned home and to the rugby. I lost my fiver.

About five minutes later S phoned, to discuss his flogging. It turns out that he lives not quarter a mile away which is handy.

He's well spoken, articulate and sane, but if you're reading this S don't think because of that I'm going to be lenient. It's going to be hell for you as the flogging is going to be protracted and I have instructed Pamela to show no mercy to your nipples whatsoever!

After I'd had dinner Pamela turned up and asked if she could try out the cane on me in preparation for S's beating.

We went into my bedroom and I stripped off for her and lay face down on my bed; the first time I've been naked in front of a female for a long time. She told me she was going to bring it down really hard so I braced myself.

It stung, but not as much as I expected. This was the 'senior' cane I hasten to add.

I let her have another swipe and it landed in exactly the same position. That did sting!

She then tried out the leather studded paddle and the junior cane.

Now, having not been on the receiving end of CP for ages I actually found it quite stimulating and in my aroused state I thought the least I could do was perhaps give her a 'good lick' in gratitude. But she declined.

Once dressed and a bit bruised she told me that she had found punishing me really invigorating.

"Can I come round and cane you again, especially if I've had a hard day at work?" she had said.

"That's fine."

Then she opened up to me. "I love you but I don't want a relationship with you. a relationship is too painful if it goes wrong-"

I took the bull by the horns. "You're a virgin and you've never had a boyfriend?"

"Yes, that's true."

"So, how would you feel about me and other women?"

"I would be jealous but if you were always to be my friend then I would accept it."


"I had a lot of crap when I was a kid," she had added painfully.

So, this is the situation. She's a good friend who is going to beat me because she enjoys it. She is going to assist me in punishing subs. And I can have other women.


The heavy conversation out of the way we settled down to watch The Big Sleep. We were disappointed. The title was apt. I found the 'magic' between Bacall and Bogart corny. And I never understood the plot either. Hopefully, Key Largo will be better.

Anyway, it was an interesting Valentine's Day.

And by the way, I didn't get any cards either!

Monday 16th February 2009: Pill to Erase Bad Memories

Well, that was the headlines in the Daily Mail today and when my friend also read it he sent a text saying: Reckon your numerous ex's will queuing up outside their doctors' to get that on prescription!

Gee, thanks, Ronan.

Tuesday 17th February 2009: Healthy Living?

Eat five portions of fruit and veg a day; don't smoke; restrict your alcohol intake and take regular exercise.


My grandfather smoked eighty a day; consumed half a bottle of scotch before dinnertime; had a greasy cooked breakfast to start the day and normally finished off with chips etc; never exercised; he rarely got to bed before two, and up at six. He was bad tempered and stressed most of the time, yet, he got to the grand old age of thirty-two!

Healthy living?


Wednesday 18th February 2009: A Hot Date

Bumped into P in the town yesterday. P is the spitting image of Gordon Brown. And P hates Gordon Brown with a vengeance. What a cruel twist of fate that you should be the double of someone you loathe! That's some sense of humour you've got there God!

Memo to the almighty: I absolutely detest Brad Pitt!

Anyway, that's by the way.

P recounted this tale of how when he was a young man his friends arranged a blind date for him. Apparently she was 'really hot' and gagging for it! Being a sensible man (and also not wishing to jeopardise his chances) he decided to pop into Boots and purchase some condoms. The assistant was an extremely attractive young lady and P was somewhat flustered. Nevertheless he bought the condoms - ribbed for extra pleasure as advised by the young assistant - and went home to prepare for his hot date.

Later that evening he set off down to the pub where his mates and his date would be waiting. As he entered the bar to his horror he saw that the 'hot date' was the same girl that had served him with the ribbed (for extra pleasure) condoms. He was so embarrassed that he turned tail and went home.

He phoned his mates up later and excused his abscence by saying he had been unexpectedly ill!!

I had to laugh as that's the sort of thing that would happen to me!

Thursday 19th February 2009: The Worm

A few years ago I used to subscribe intermittently to a fetish mag called Axis. I expect a few on IC will have heard of it or even been members. It was, I think, a non-commercial enterprise. Sadly, due to the ill health of the founders, it folded a couple of years ago. But not before I'd had some 'fun' through it!

The first encounter I had through it was with Mistress V, a lifestyle Domme. I shall devote a weblog to that in due course.

But, it's the 'Worm' I want to tell you about today.

I can't remember the actual content of the ad I placed but I was basically looking for S&M fun with a female. I had put my 'mucky mobile' number in the ad. And waited. In due course I had two or three responses from males which wasn't what I was hoping.

I then received a text from a male seeking someone to degrade him in front of his girlfriend. Disappointed, I despatched a rather rude and provocative message back. It read something like: Didn't you read the content of my advert? I am looking for a female, you pathetic little worm!

Surprisingly, I got a message back saying that was exactly the kind of response he wanted!!

He phoned and we had a long chat. It transpired that he was looking to be humiliated socially and in front of his girlfriend whom he said despised him (sounds like a lot of relationships too me).

I have to say at this juncture that it was impossible to verify anything he told me; it could all have been complete fabrication!

During the conversation (he seemed a sane fellow) I thought: What the hell and agreed to dominate him by phone for a while.

Most evenings he would phone at exactly the time I instructed him - he would have to cane himself if too early or too late - and I would relay my latest orders to him.

The first incident in which I contrived to humiliate him socially was in the pub on a Sunday afternoon where he used to regularly drink with a circle of friends and their partners. After quizzing the Worm he admitted that one of the women there didn't like him much. Seeing an opportunity I ordered him to go to the pub next time with only enough money for one and half rounds. After everybody had purchased one round of drinks it would be the Worm's turn again. But he wouldn't have enough. My instructions were that he would have to request the very woman who despised him to help him with the round.

When he reported back to me a few days later he had told me he had copped a load of abuse from her which soured the atmosphere. The Worm was of course thoroughly humiliated and I made him wank over the phone after he had recounted the tale. I hasten to add that I completely controlled his sex life too.

The next task I set him was to 'accidentally' brush his arm against a female colleague's breast - dangerous. But living on the edge is exhilarating!

When he got back to me he told me that she hadn't believed him - despite his grovelling apologies - and had mentioned the incident to her brother who had come in and threatened him.

It was hard not to laugh as I ordered him to self-cane then pay me homage by shouting out my name as he orgasmed. I also used to get him to clamp his nipples to add to his suffering.

Also at this point he was begging me to meet him in London so he could handover money and for me to abuse him in person.

I nearly agreed but only on condition he would travel down from the Midlands with his partner (apparently he had a girlfriend too) only attired in an overcoat - I salivated at the prospect of them both being stopped and searched by the transport police.

He was also hoping to still persuade me to degrade him by using him as a piss pot whilst I shagged his woman in front of him. Which sounded good I must confess.

I have to say it was quite challenging each day to think up new tasks but I did come up with a cracker: he was to secure half a tennis ball around the crotch area and after a while a whole tennis ball. The idea was to look like his testicle(s) had swollen up. He was also to consume a raw clove or two of garlic each day before work such that he would stink his office out. He was also to purchase some harmless tablets and put them into a Chinese pill box. Now what I was doing was gambling on the fact that his appearance - he was to say nothing unless asked - would lead to him being called in by his superior. Total embarrassment for all parties concerned. He would then tell the boss that he suffered from recurrent swelling of his testicles and that the only medication that alleviated it was an old Chinese herbal preparation. He could show the boss the pill box with Chinese writing. He was to keep a straight face at all times. After a week or so he would take out the tennis balls and leave off the garlic. He would of course be the laughing stock of the office. It was a brilliant idea of mine I thought.

But that wasn't to be because he suddenly stopped phoning; he probably found someone who would indulge his fantasies in person.

He was great fun I must admit. And if you're on IC now I'll say hello and thanks.

The other strange thing was that during my contact with the Worm I became much more assertive at work and socially. Probably did me good.

Oh well, happy memories!

Saturday 28th February 2009: The Flogging of S

Earlier this afternoon Pamela and I went round to S's to give him a good flogging 'naval style' (he had contacted me through IC).To be honest I was fine about the punishment aspect of it but wasn't keen on doing anything sexual - I'm not gay. Anyway, I spoke with Pamela and she said (because she had admitted to me that she possessed a sadistic side) that she'd love to come along. I then got back to S and asked him if he was okay with the missus being in attendance - he was delighted.

So we turned up just before 3 and I administered a sound flogging (Nat's flesh was red raw) with Pamela 'overseeing' the punishment.

Afterwards me and Pamela went up town and treated ourselves to a hot chocolate each - it can be hard work beating someone. She also said to me: "You've got a real sadistic side to you, you had a real gleam in your eyes when you were laying that cat o'nine tails with full force across his back - he was really squirming."

Wednesday 11th March 2009: Spoke to the Minger

I found myself behind the 'Minger' (that's what my son used to cruelly call her) today in the local supermarket.

We had a pleasant and polite chat but all the time I was thinking how gloriously ugly she was. In fact she's really fucking ugly. She's so ugly that I just wanted to take her back to my flat and thrash her bare back with a flogger before fucking her from behind. Which I admit is weird.

As we went our separate ways I wished her 'Take care', but I was thinking: 'Lucky nobody can read our thoughts as I'd be fucking arrested, locked up and the key thrown away!'

Thursday 2nd April 2009: I'm a Bastard


A sadist,

A hippocrite,

A bigot,

A coward,

An egotist,

A sometime masochist,

A gambler


A philanderer.

I make no apologies.

Nature made me that way


Nature is God!

That was a moment of enlightenment - thought I'd share it with you.

Moving on swiftly...

I have decided to advertise in a fetish publication to broaden my net, as it were.

Despite my recurrent illness - I think Nature has just about had enough of me - I feel I've still got a few good beatings left in me.

Hoping to coax a masochist round, preferably female, but male will suffice so that I can administer a slippering, caning or flogging that none of us will forget.

I'll let you know though ad not in till May.

Last night Pamela and myself saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona.

On the way there, Gloria Minghella (the mother of Anthony Minghella the film director) drove past.

She still looks shocked.

It must be an awful thing to lose one of your children - Nature is indifferent and cruel.

The film was good, though for some reason I find Scarlett Johannson's cheek mole irritating - she should have it removed.

Time for some chores!

Wednesday 8th April 2009: Don't Read if You Are an Animal Lover

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to a bowling evening with some colleagues. Actually they probably won't be colleagues much longer as my illness has prevented me from working as I am a bus driver and have lost my license due to recurrent vertigo. And also about to lose my job. C'est la vie.

Having a drink after, Christopher, recounted the darkly comic tale about a Scotty dog:

He was driving through Cowes at twilight and was a fair distance behind the car in front (not a Toyota). Further still, an elderly couple were crossing the road and trailing behind on an extendable lead was a Scotty Dog. Chris told us that it was obviously their 'pride and joy' and wearing a tartan dog's coat. The back wheel of the car then struck the Scotty dog causing it to be propelled several feet up into the air. Chris said the lead also rose and then fell but the couple didn't notice that. Anyway, the Scotty dog landed on his back with legs rigid and obviously stone dead. The car driver never even noticed, perhaps due to the failing light, and drove on unaware. As Chris got closer the extendable lead came to the end of its length and the elderly gent tugged on it impatiently before turning round to see his pride and joy dead on its back. The car had disappeared out of sight by now and the old boy affected a quizzical expression. Chris, who has a sick humour like me, couldn't stop laughing and had to halt the bus at the next stop until he could bring himself under control.

Yeah, well, the story is probably funnier when it's told in person but nevertheless I thought I would share it with you.

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