Reviews of Fetlebrity Journals


A man adopts a brat and then conducts an entire relationship with her via telephone. There are cocks in this album, although I suspect Photoshop involvement. Porn is nonetheless present, and that is the only honest way to show appreciation for all the time I spent reading the smut posts that didn’t have compliKated in them.

Four stars


A woman yada yada telephone yada yada big cock. The only smut in this album is of compliKated’s ass. It is, however, a mighty fine ass, and I do not suspect Photoshop involvement.

Five stars for cK’s ass, one star for the bow at the back of the black knickers.


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Shit. My IUD Fell Out and I Didn’t Even Notice

There’s much internet chatter about an infographic the CDC put out about the risks of drinking for women. The line from the press release that’s pissing people off goes like this:

“Even if planned, most women won’t know they are pregnant for the first month or so, when they might still be drinking. The risk is real. Why take the chance?”

In other words if you’re a woman, become a teetotaller because you never know when you might get pregnant. Lack of contraception has a habit of sneaking up on you unawares, know what I mean? My IUD falls out all the time, especially when I’m not wearing any underwear.

Shit. I think I just accidentally walked into a wall of contention. Let me backpedal. I’ll give you one guess as to what the CDC lists first as a risk of drinking. Take your time. I’ll wait.

<taps foot>

Violence! Banzai! If you drink, you’ll get beaten and raped, so just don’t do it, m’kay? Cuz you weren’t raped because he was a criminal douchebag, you were raped because you drank that tequila.


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Is There a Chill in the Air or is it Just You?

There’s a man in my kink community who gives out hugs that last as long as you want them to. If you spot him, odds are he’ll be busy handing out hugs to what I imagine to be a queue of people on a numbered waiting list. I’ve earmarked him as a Very Important Person for obvious reasons.

They are obvious, right? I’m not the only one who’s hooked on affection, am I?

There are huggers and then there are A Grade Huggers. I’ve known two of the latter; men whose hugs feel like paradise, and fortunately, one of them lives in my city. Every week I look forward to my Eddie Hug. I make a beeline for him as soon as I walk in the room.

I’ve rarely had to do without affection. I have only been with one man who was none too keen on touch outside of sex, and that was when I realised how much of a deal breaker it is for me. I’m a cuddle monster. I don’t want affection. I needit. Life just isn’t magical enough without it.


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The first date is a form of torture invented by Satan to punish mankind for eating bacon.

The first date is a form of torture invented by Satan to punish mankind for eating bacon. I’d sooner have a dentist’s appointment than go through the moments preceding The First Kiss. If the rewards were not legendary, I honestly wouldn’t bother.

I suck at dating. I truly do. I’m not the sort of woman whose mascara stays put and whose hair stays perfectly straight. It frizzes the second it sees me put the flat iron down. I am the type of woman who doesn’t register that he was trying to fucking kiss me goddammit! And I gave him my cheek! What. An. Idiot.

People always tell me first dates are meant to be fun. Fuck those people. First dates were invented to teach us how it feels to live inside a horror movie. People also tell me that I should focus on whether he’s good enough for me and not whether I’m good enough for him, but fuck them, too. It’s impossible for me to be an adult about the whole thing. The second I show up at the restaurant, I revert back to my 13-year-old self: nervous, awkward, and, it bears repeating, terrified.


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How to Go to Your First Munch Without Dying of Terror

-1) Kick the wall. Hard. Was that as bad as you thought? Well, going to a munch is less painful than that.

-2) Go outside. See that woman who just walked down the road? Yes, that one in the yellow dress. She looks exactly like the kind of person you’d meet at a munch. We BDSM community types are the same as everyone else, and most of us are in it to learn, not pick up sex partners, so you’re as likely to be hit on at a munch as you are at a bar.

-3) Now go to a coffee shop. It’s fine. I’ll wait.

-4) Settle in. Tell me which table the retail manager is sitting at? Which one just got engaged? Which one got laid last night? You can’t tell, can you? That’s how easy it is to recognise people who are attending a munch. Nobody is going to point at you and say, “Ermaghard! That’s Samantha from down the road! At a BDSM event! Fuck me! Ima gonna tell everyone on Facebook that she’s kinky!”

-5) Unless they’re at the munch! Shiiyit!

-6) But wait a second. That means they’re kinky, too, so they’ll be delighted to find out you have a new thing in common. Hey! Instant friend at a munch! Bonus.

-7) Now RSVP that you’re going to the next munch. Remember that being calm is not a prerequisite for clicking the “I’m going” tab. You can RSVP and be terrified at the same time. It’s called ‘faking it till you make it.’

-8) Was that so hard?

-9) Okay, so it was that hard, but you did it! Order a red velvet cupcake. You’ve earned it.

-10) You may now stew in your own terror for the two weeks it takes for the date of the munch to arrive. Instead of thinking about the boss you think will show up there, realise that you might meet your next best friend, because that’s way more likely to happen. Most of us show up in the kink community for the education and stay for the love we find there.

-11) Phone a community leader who you’ve reference checked and ask them to meet you for coffee before the munch. It’s way easier to meet one person than 20, and it’s way easier to meet 20 people when you know one of them.

-12) Now go meet them.

-13) See, I told you we were a bunch of awesome people.


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The Miracle of You

This world is made of magic and light, but one miracle stands head and shoulders above all others. That miracle is you. No fairytale can exist without the thing that makes you who and what you are: That thing is love.

No matter how dark my world becomes, not a day goes by without someone stretching out a hand to show me how very exquisite this life is because there are people like them.

There will always be those among us who use words that sting. There will always be people who drag darkness wherever they go, but they’re rare. Only around 10% of us are incurably evil. Every now and again, one of us gets dragged down with them, but tell the truth about your life and it won’t be long before someone bends over to pull you up again. I know. I’ve been there.


I tell my story often because I know how hard it is to find hope in the darkest places. Sometimes when I write, hundreds of readers stop by in my tiny corner of the world and tell their stories, too. This is how I’ve been lucky enough to watch thousands of people help others who are stuck in similar circumstances to those they were once lost in. The past can be a black and desperate thing, but it rarely manages to leak far enough into our lives to make beautiful things impossible. There is always hope. We just can’t always see it.

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D/s is a potent force–the steaming hot core of human nature. That means that the connection between dominant and sub is that much more profound.

I’ve never entirely separated from any of my past doms. I’ve managed to cut the bonds with literally every vanilla partner, but those I’ve kinked with? I carry tiny bits of their soul with me everywhere I go.

I’ve never been able to withdraw those parts of me that have been owned. I still equate walks and windows with Dominant Number Two, even though 18 months have passed since I spoke to him. His tasks were attached to those two things most powerfully for me, and I’ve never been able to take them back. The grief is gone, but his stamp on me remains. I have a very special place in my memory for my first dom, too. Enough years have passed for me to know I will always feel linked to him in a small way.


That connection is one of the reasons lack of ethics in a dominant can be so destructive. As a sub, you’re entrusting so much of yourself to your partner, and you can’t always get it all back after they’ve left. The faith involved in power exchange is like falling backward off a cliff. It shouldn’t be done without scoping out the terrain at the bottom to make sure someone is waiting there with a net.

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