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Saturday, 7 March 2015


Out of all of my exes Popeye is the one I wish I was friends with the most. He won't return my emails, he won't tweet me back and I highly doubt I'll get a response to my letter. We were friends for awhile but he broke off the friendship because I was being so negative. I'm in a better place compared to last year but I fear it might be too little too late. Also if there was anyone who could fix my aerial it would be him. He is so smart.

Monday, 2 March 2015

Big bad handsome man no more

It would appear I have unceremoniously been dumped. Despite said boyfriend being clued into my BPD, he screwed me then a week later dumps me on the merrit of being overly emotional. No shit Sherlock that's what BPD essentially boils down too. I am feeling it heavily too. My BPD is a curse and I fear there is no-one out there with the necessary patience needed to ever love me.

Sunday, 22 February 2015

My Big Bad Handsome Man.

This post is named after one of my favourite songs by Imelda May. So there is a new man in my life who I'll call Big D. He is to quote Imelda, tall, mad mean and good lookin' he is also sweet and very good at caning. I am writing this sitting on my bruised bottom...which has three yellowish cane shaped bruises on a sea of purple.

So what is Big D like? He is sweet, a total gent (read that as opens and closes car doors for me) he takes zero percent of my nonsense and he is kinky as fuck. He makes the submissive in me feel safe to come out and invokes the overwhelming urge to not only please him but to take care of him, much in the way he has already taken care of me. Suffice to say I am a smitten kitten and in a perpetual state of horniness. He also a bit older than me, he is in his forties, shaven headed by my own hands no less and he wears Doc Martens, you all know about my thing with shoes. And last but not least...he smells divine...that sexy cocktail of Joop aftershave and his natural pheremones. He barely got through my front door before I was kissing him. Releasing two weeks of pent up desire.

Big D gave me a caning and whilst it was a thrill it was unequivocally a punishment. My BPD lead me to behave in the most appalling manner, and resulted in my foul mouthed self telling him to go fuck himself amongst other thing's. After the caning I got, there is no doubt that there will not be a repeat performance, even if it did make my cunt wet.

This weekend has been nice and chilled, we watched movies cwtched up on my sofa, we had hot kinky sexy. And I woke up for the first time since my last hospital admission not feeling anxious, so truth be told I'm very content today despite my sore bottom, so I felt inspired enough to tell the world about it.

Kinky Cupcake xox

Saturday, 31 January 2015

Twangging my bean alone

I honestly feel like I'll never get laid again. I feel fat and frumpy and worst of all I am missing Popeye like a bitch. Despite going through old Fetlife posts where he is outed by not only myself but two other women that he has fucked over in exactly the same way that he has fucked me over countless times. It all boils down to sex, that and that he's probably a sociopath according to the article I have just read. He is the best I have been with. Even the phonesex induced orgasms were better than some full on physical sexual encounters. I hare his guts but I am missing the sex of both physical and telephone variety. This on top of my BPD is a downer
Sign bed your favourite spinster cat lady