Guest Blogger Mrs. Darling on Exhibitionism and More!!!

I met Mrs. Darling at BDSM Writers Con last year, where I was dazzled by her retro style and am BEYOND thrilled to have her as my guest today with her new book! Read on to discover how it all came together for her!

Three years ago, I awoke in the middle of the night and felt like crawling out of my skin. It was the evening after a BDSM lifestyle event, not much different than any I have attended over the years. But something I was asked that evening, was like a splinter stuck in my brain keeping me from peace. At some point during the easygoing conversations amongst friends and strangers, a question came to my Dominant and I. It was a question that kept coming up over and over again. 

People wanted to know about our transition from a vanilla egalitarian marriage, to the one we lived in at the time. We lived 24/7 TPE D/s (which means full time, all day, in and out of the bedroom, Dominance and submission). Our new marriage was so inherently different than our “old” one.

“How did it all start?” I was asked over and over again.

We gave a simple explanation as always: we were unhappy in our non-kink relationship. One of us brought the idea of BDSM up, and together we began researching  and educating ourselves, practicing power exchange in the bedroom first, etc. Every time we told the story my husband (referenced in my non-fiction writing as Mister or MR), clasped my hand tight to slow my rising pulse and comforted me in the invisible way only those closely connected can communicate. 

This story, the real and rich deep down story, circled around the worst time in my life. Every time it came up I walked down a path filled with sorrow and tears, all while smiling and speaking with a forced politeness. I looked forward to the drive home so I could sit in silence and let the tears fall, feeling alone and ashamed and afraid of anybody learning the heartbreaking path that was actually “How did it all start?”

It started as catharsis. 

So in moonlight after another evening of mournful recollection, with a silent house asleep around me, I pulled out my laptop, turned on some tunes and started writing. I wrote it out; wrote it all. The bad. The worse. His mistakes. Mine as well. I wrote of struggling to see the silver lining. I wrote out my anger in knowing for so long that I wanted BDSM and submission to be a part of my life, but feeling like I was a damaged person for wanting it. I wrote of my husband’s struggle in his path as a Dominant. I wrote about fucking, I wrote about fucking up, I wrote about fucking around. I wrote about our developing SM play. 

I wrote for a year. In the middle of the night, in the early morning over coffee with my children’s cartoons playing in the background and during their nap time. Some of my hobbies went on the shelf, to make room for writing time. It consumed me.

I wanted to cut this story out of my system. I wanted control back of our beginning. I wanted to confront my emotions head on for the first time since living the experience.

See, the truest story about “How did it all start?” for us in Dominance and submission is the basic story of the phoenix. The Mister and I, the “old us,” had crashed and burned. We were entirely broken, had died emotionally, and had no other choice but to help first ourselves and then each other rise from the ashes. It was so… incredibly… painful.

Writing it out freed me from the pain. Submission though, submission is what allowed me to fly again. When I became a submissive I began journaling my path. I wrote my private journal and shared it online, in a public forum and quickly fell in love with the kindness, support and camaraderie I received from the BDSM community. I waded through submission and there were others who had walked similar paths, and encouraged me along the way. I always have simply written from my heart. 

I almost exclusively wrote non-fiction about our experience in kink, about our 1950s household, about our bedroom affairs. I’m not one to craft a character or storyline; any attempt comes up flat. People seem drawn to my authenticity. One of my friends once wrote in comment to a very personal journal, “You’ve got this wonderful ability to suck the reader in, put them in your shoes, and then drop them on the other side feeling awed to have gotten a glimpse.” All of a sudden it clicked for me. 

I am an emotional exhibitionist. 

It manifests itself by way of creative non-fiction. 

Darling Discovered: A True Story of Submission is an encapsulation of the two. 

This book that I wrote over the course of three years gave me exactly what I needed. It is a way for me to both expose my weakness to the world, ensuring that it can never jump up on me again, but also give me power over the story told. While writing Darling Discovered, I probably shed as many tears telling the story as I did living it. I laughed, I lost sleep over it, I re-lived the tale. Creative non-fiction, which presents real, accurate information in a fictional literary style, gave me both the structure I needed to once and for all answer, “How did this all start?” and the literary freedom to expose my soul to the reader. 

The happenings happened, sure. 

But when you can accurately articulate things like self consciousness. Ecstasy. Rage. Remorse. Anticipation. And not just articulate the guess of those raw emotions but write from actually living the situation described, well, it lends the story an authenticity that I personally find hard to duplicate. In the end it leaves the reader as the voyeur in this true story of starting submission. Even for those not interested in kink or BDSM, this is a tale of self-acceptance, self-awareness and of learning to love the imperfect version of ourselves. 

I am grateful for that night years ago when I was asked, “So, how did you go from there to here?” It gave me the courage to answer it openly and honestly, once and for all.

I am finally free. 
Darling Discovered: A True Story of Submission won in the non-fiction category at 2015 BDSM Writer’s Con and was published June 2016. It is available in print and all ebook formats at major retailers. for more information.

A special thank you to F. Leonora Solomon for hosting this guest post onto her lovely website,

Mrs. Darling is the lady of a Modern Day 1950’s M/s Household. She is a regular contributor for and her work can be seen elsewhere online.


Wicked Wednesday #213 — Turn Around…

“I wish I could turn around and start over…” Oscar said, when he got into the car beside Polly. Polly stared at him, the way that she used to before they ever got together. Her haughty indifference, was worth far more than her acting hurt.

The night before, she had spent the with Colin. His brand of lovemaking satisfied her in way that no other kind had. Their love was far from perfect, but the physical side of their love was irreplaceable for her.

But she would be a liar if she tried to say that being in the limo with Oscar would have no affect on her.

“Do you still love him?” Colin had asked her that morning, when she was getting dressed. She was topless, and his eyes were fixed on her modest breasts.

“Of course I still love him in some kind of way…” she shrugged. “But he left me for Eliza, and I left him because of you…”

Colin pressed his lips to her neck. He looked at their faces in the mirror.

“I think you should explore everything with him. You should see where you are, it will make us purer…” e said, wrapping his arms about her. “I am not afraid of him you know, and I need you to know that. I will love you regardless. I always have…”

Polly felt like he was looking at her and Oscar in the car now. She touched her breast through her sheer blouse, as if she were him.

“There is nothing to start again,” she whispered. “I could have gotten out of this, right before the sale too? But I am here.”

Oscar looked at her softly.

“I know.”

Polly looked out of the window. She did not want her own estrangement to be as painful as Alice’s. Alice’s break from Fiona, had her questioning everything and she talked to her about it ad nauseum. She and Alice were close friends as well as colleagues forever, so she listened. Listened to Alice so she would not be tempted to talk about Oscar…Oscar looking the way he looked beside her. The last time they were in a limo together…

She closed her eyes. A tear escaped to just the top of her cheek, and she rubbed it away just as quickly as it had arrived there.

Her past was far too close and tempting…
More Wicked Wednesday here:

limo interior via wikipedia

E[Lust] 83

Elust 82 Header Holden and Camille
Photo courtesy of Holden and Camille

Welcome to Elust #83

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #84 Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

London Crows and London Kisses

I am Her. She is Me.

You Say You Want to Cook for Me


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Unusual Liaison

Community. Respect. Friendship. Fucking.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Dirty Little Secrets

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!



You Know

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

My Bed
Secular Submission
My therapy
from “hard limit” to “want”
We Measure the Nostalgia
The Cure and The Cause


Smut in the 6ix – Porn Conference & Gala

Erotic Fiction

Typing Errors
La Belle Dame
Sex and chocolate
The Imprisoned of HIM-HER-THEM
The Gift
Becca’s Story
Rope and Fixtures
As salty as his cum…
Dominating the Doctor

Erotic Non-Fiction

Teen Sex in Woolly Tights with 60s Beat Music
Dear Sadist: Your Cruelty Is Your Love
A male dom, the straight girl and the bi girl
Owned, Leashed, & Beaten
Jan 2015 Owned & Collared by Mistress Claire
Rinse The Days Filth Away
Power On
Keeping tally

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Formative Kink Epic Fail: “Buck Rogers”

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

If it was easy anyone could do it
What’s a service submissive?
Prescient Words

Writing About Writing

What if aspirational meant something else?


ELust Site Badge


Masturbation Monday No. 95

Nichy was at the point where did not want to come anymore. It felt so good when she was about to come, that she felt like she could do it over and over again. But then after she had come three times–third time being the charm!!!–she was not ready to come again.Her thong was drenched, and inside her purse. She had placed it there because she felt better without it on, than she had with it on.

Gavin took her hand and held her as her thighs quivered, while she took it off. He had suggested that they leave, and go to Renee’s place which was not that far from the bar.

“Just for a nightcap, you guys have worn me out.” Nichy insisted.

Gavin raised an eyebrow at her.


“Really!” Nichy smiled. 

Naked beneath her dress, she still was a wet mess and was pretty sure that Gavin knew she was not being completely honest. He pulled her close to him, his hand just against her backside. To prevent a Marilyn Monroe moment that would really scandalize the passerbys.

They walked in companionable silence, holding hands.

“You know Nichy, you are the reason why Renee and I getting married. If we had not been so curious about each other because we were both involved with you…we never would have gotten close…”

“So I should be thankful that the two of you are together because of me?” she asked, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Well you are with Tyler now…” Gavin answered, and she sensed something in his voice that she knew she had put there and that she could not deny he had the right to feel.

“I love you, you know. I really love you, and I am happy if you are happy…” she finally said after a couple of blocks.

Gavin stopped, and looked at her.

“I love you too Nichy, I will always love you…”

And then, on a closed street–a historical block that looked nothing like the other streets around it with its cobblestone and French flair. Gavin pressed her to the wall, and looked in her eyes. The moon as ever was clever, and illuminated just their eyes like masks of light. He pressed his lips to her forehead and temple, the tip of her nose, her cheek and then finally kissed her mouth. His kiss was not lustful, but filled with love. There was so much love it made her heart quiver, like her thighs had earlier. She caressed his neck and held his hip, deepening their kiss.

A flash of light from above, revealed a woman looking out of her window. Nichy did not move her lips from Gavin’s as the older woman looked down at them. The woman smiled,

“Oh love!” she cried, and turned off her light.

Nichy closed her eyes, and continued to kiss Gavin. That woman had no idea about their brand of love…

More Masturbation Monday here:

mask via wikipedia

Sinful Sunday, Week 272 — Dive

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Friday Flash No. 5 — Service

Loretta looked at her red-lacquered finger on the button. That button had become like Pavlov’s bell for her, when she pressed it. Months ago when she pressed that button, she had just expected to come in and clean a gentleman’s apartment. The apartment was huge, and the windows were opened letting her look almost back to her apartment downtown. She pulled up her sleeves, and prepared to go to work when the gentleman who hired her to clean his apartment appeared in the hallway. He mirrored her in white dress shirt and blue jeans. Soon after meeting him, she looked out toward downtown in just his dress shirt completely open and her body ruminating with the pleasure he had created within it.

That was how he liked her to clean. In his dress shirts–open, nothing underneath. Sometimes he liked her to wear his cufflinks. His cufflinks were as assorted as the charms on her Pandora bracelet. Naked except for his shirt, every motion to clean made her body a symphony of anticipation. Sometimes he was there, sometimes he was not there. When he was there, he never took his shirt off of her. Whatever he did with her, he did with his shirt on her.

After she pressed the button to be let in on her shifts, she knew if he did not come to the door in a certain amount of time she was free to use his key. Today was such a day, she put the key in the door and closed her eyes. Putting the key in his lock, was like the reverse of him entering her. Licking her parched lips, she unbuttoned her own dress shirt and folded it neatly on the table next to the door. Loretta stepped out of her jeans, and had another Pavlovian response to his dress shirts. She went through his dresser drawer to find a pair of cufflinks to put on as part of her service for the day…

Whether he was there or not he slipped through her like a ghost, she stood still for a moment and then remembered her purpose to service…

More Friday Flash here:

service photo used with permission of anonymous


Wicked Wednesday #212 — View

Eliza took in the floor to ceiling view from the bar. Josephine had just gotten off of work, and they were going to another bar which puzzled her.”This is the most sought after view in the city Joe, maybe we should just stay here?”

Josephine stared at Eliza with exasperation, and she could not blame her. It was finally her time off, and Josephine probably did not want to stay at her workplace as stunning as it was.

“Only,” Josephine said. “Only if we stay in one of the private rooms, and I have to ask for permission. That is where the best views are…”

“No, the best view is right here…”

Eliza turned to look at her sister-in-law to be. Honestly, Eliza was jealous of Fiona in a way. She was happy that she was with Rafe, and Oscar’s scent was still on her dress. He had come as close to fucking her as he possibly could. But he was headed to Shanghai with Polly, and it did not worry her…but Shanghai was a place that held deeply imbedded memories for them. But for now, Eliza could still feel the heat of his body on hers. She could still feel his stubble against her cheek, and could feel him inflate beneath the table. Even though she had washed her hands his scent was still there, on her fingers. But she was still jealous of Fiona, who was more in love or lust than she had ever seen her. 

Josephine turned around to stare at Fiona, and Eliza felt like she was somewhere she was not supposed to be. As if someone had viewed her and Oscar moments ago, when they brought each other to mutual orgasm under the table while seeming transfixed on the view before them…with its expansive light cheddar colored moon.

Fiona panted, as Josephine walked away.

“You are really serious about Joe…” Eliza started.

Fiona licked her lips, and looked down at her hands which she wrung softly but nervously.

“If you do not even want to talk about her! You must really be smitten!”

Fiona stared at her now.

“Don’t embarrass me Liza, this is new and I am not even sure what I feel. I am just enjoying being with her…”

“I am jealous Fi, I am jealous of you, and your new love or lust!”

“You are marrying my brother who I have heard is very hot under the covers, and Oscar is crazy about you…how can you be jealous? Of me?”

Eliza shrugged, it was ridiculous when she said it out loud. Fiona was right, it was always interesting to view someone else’s life as more perfect than yours.

“We got the private room…” Josephine whispered when she returned. Her breasts bubbled from the top of her camisole, and Eliza watched Fiona look at her with unbridled lust. “Follow me?”

They did, where Eliza knew she would view their coveted new lust against the city’s most coveted view…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

view via f dot leonora


Masturbation Monday No. 94

Nichy looked at Gavin. He smiled at her the way that he did when she first started to have an office crush on him. The way he had of looking at her like she were the most important person in the world, even if he did not know her that well before they got together.

But he knew her that well now.

He had ordered her drink, and she stood next to him at the bar. He wrapped his arm about her waist, and she pressed herself to him. The scuff of his stubble against her cheek was familiar and  comforting.

“Nichy…” he whispered softly, keeping his arm about her waist.

“Hey.” She was so close to him, that when she smiled she practically kissed him.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, and she smelled the beer on his breath.

She nodded, she had wanted to see him too. Everything had happened so fast. From getting together with him, the dramas in between, Renee and Tyler. But there was a time when they were so hot for each other, and all she wanted was to be this close to him now.

“I had tea with Renee today…”

Gavin turned, so that his lips grazed her cheek.

“I know…”

“She told you all about high tea, huh?”

“I do not have any secrets from my fiancee,” Gavin smiled and he was so close to her, that she thought they were going to kiss. “We share everything…”

The light went out in the tiny bathroom, when they closed the door. Nichy was soothed by the feeling of his stubble on the inside of her thigh. In the dark, she caressed his head as he kissed the inside of each of her thighs. She closed her eyes when he touched the soft skin with his fingers. Nichy got dizzy from the soft wetness of his tongue and fingers, and hit her hip against the bathroom sink. Her fingers scraped his scalp, and he moaned with pleasure she was not even sure that she had heard when her mouth was on him like his was on her then.

She did not know this Gavin, who was with her in the bathroom of a bar but she had ached for him…

More Masturbation Monday here:


Sinful Sunday, Week 271 : Straddle

pose 1

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Wicked Wednesday #211 — Identity

“This is your wife?” Eliza stood beside Rafe, hand in hand. When she went to a function for him, he held her close to him the entire night. He was either holding her hand, or holding her close to him. He got all of her drinks, and prepared her dinner plate. Fed her, wiped her mouth and hands…

She took a sip of her wine, and smiled at the couple across from them.

“Eliza is my fiancee, but we have been together for so long…she is my wife already.” Rafe answered his male colleague, who was standing with his own wife.

“That is a gorgeous ring! Almost as big as the Taylor-Burton one!”

Grinning at Rafe, Eliza let the other woman take her hand. Rafe did style it after the ring that Richard Burton gave Elizabeth Taylor, but it was not nearly as big. However it was impressive, it was his way of pissing around her to show possession in a way. But she loved the ring and Rafe.

“Rafe did design it after that one,” Eliza said, her hand still being tugged by the other woman. She was deep in the identity of being Rafe’s. Of being here at this work event with him, of being engaged to be married to him. The wedding was getting closer and closer. Soon enough, she would be his wife. 

When the other woman let go of her hand, Eliza twisted her ring and turned toward Rafe, her tilted up to meet his.

He twisted the ring along with her. 

“I am thinking more about the bejeweled lingerie set you have on underneath that dress…” Rafe said softly, so only she could hear. His voice was soft with bubbly, and admiration for her appearance.

In that moment, she was so happy to be his. To become his wife in a way she had not been enthused about it, since he proposed to her. She was his, it was who she was and an identity she was happy to assume…like going into a phone booth, and coming out as superwife.

She was, and would always be his…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

liz via