Ancilla L

Podcast E26: The Indian Army, Going Viral and Anonymity.

I pissed off the Indian Army this week. Like I really, really pissed them off but my outrage was righteous and I got a lot of support too. It was a weird experience, I have a lot to say about it under cover of anonymity. 

Enjoy. 

Her Only Indulgence.

"You look so beautiful," he told her as she walked out of the bathroom dressed in black garters and flaming red lingerie.
The red clashed magically with her green eyes. It shouldn't have worked but red had always been her colour.

There wasn't a shade of red she couldn't make more beautiful; actually there were few colours she couldn't make more beautiful. That is the thing with frighteningly beautiful people like her; deathly pale skin, sharp facial features and delicate fingers. ...

Her Ugly Little Secret.

"Sometimes, I wonder what I see in you," she says moving her left foot off my face so I can see  her.

She walks away from me, towards the armchair in the corner of the room, and I crawl after the coattails of her words until I am reunited with her feet. Sometimes, I wonder as well. What does she see in me? 

"I suppose," she begins, popping her toe back inside my mouth as I settle on my back, "I respect that you seem to understand...just how far bene...

Podcast E25: But do I even have a personality?

The last few weeks have been insane. I haven't been around as much as I would like but the dust seems to have settled and I am back with an all too detailed discussion about how one knows their personality and why I can't seem to find mine. 

Enjoy!

I Guess I Said Yes.

The room grows very quiet, all of a sudden, as I get on my knees and stretch my arms up over my head and look at him, propped up on one arm, and staring at me. A familiar fear washes over me, and I wonder what joy I ever extracted from wearing bravado on my skin, it's no fun at all to be brave nor to play it. No, I'm scared, and I'm always scared when the sun goes away and takes with it all the tenderness with which he touches me during the day. 

"I'm terrified," I annou...

Are You Afraid Of Not Breathing?

We spent the evening on a boat, watching the sun set into the lake while the fisherman who took us out onto the water told us the tale of a road accident 2000-kilometers away that led him to give up a life of long-haul truck rides in favour of fishing. I jumped around on the boat, leaning over to touch the water, assessing whether it was too cold for me to take the plunge, and making my husband incredibly nervous. He's such an odd man. There are two things that scare the living hell out of hi...

The Other Women.

Something has changed about the way I see your other women. Look, I know, on a human level, there's an ethical, moral understanding with which we operate. I never bound you in the chains of monogamy, and you never asked to bind me, which is not to say there's anything wrong with those chains, I'm the last person to object to the pleasure of being bound, but it's not who we are. Our hearts wander. So it is unfair for me to refer to any other women you have as the other, it's condescending even...

New Delhi.

"I feel like I can't breathe," I said as a familiar panic gripped me like a hand around my throat. 

I got up and started to pace around the room, I was hoping to trick my body into thinking the increased heart-rate was a function of the movement and not anxiety, but it wasn't working. I just felt like i couldn't breathe. 

"Good god, just go outside," he said rolling his eyes at me, "I c...

How to break a sadist.

There is a spot in my thigh where I hate being punched. It's a few inches higher than the spot where I cracked my femur a decade ago. I assume my hatred for being punched in that place has to do with the old injury, even though it developed into the phobia that it is only a few years ago, but I am not very sure. I just know that even the prospect of being punched in that spot makes me beg in the most helpless and pathetic of tones. I will instantly cry in anticipation of the pain. Well, that ...

How do you keep the kink alive in a long-term relationship?

For the first few years that we were together, my partner and I had a very free and wild lifestyle, and by that I mean, we were free to fuck at 6 PM and wildly go to bed by 9:30 PM. I know. It sounds like a sad life, but it wasn't, it was wonderful because what that actually means is we had a lot of time to give each other and to ourselves. We were the only ones who lived in our house, and besides work, we had absolutely no other responsibilities, so we fucked all the time. He could w...

Eighteen.

“Tell them you’re 18 or 19,” he told me in what can be considered a briefing

“Why?” I asked him, “18 or 20, what’s the difference?”

I actually came to like the man; there was no beating around the bush with him, no unnecessary communication whatsoever.

“It’s our rule,” he said getting up, and taking a sip of the tea a young boy had just brought him.

I *got* the rule (what with it being a *college girls* service and all); I can see why men w...

Our Song.

"When you step out of the bathroom, I'm going to punch you," I told her as her growls faded into silence.
"Why?" She asked clearing her throat, "Do you hate my music?"
"No," I responded, "I fucking love it."
When she walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, I asked very politely that she set her guitar down.
And then I punched her.
It was a risk; I wasn't sure how she'd respond.
She laughed.

Before I knew her, I knew *of* her as my sister's roommate.
T...

My Husband Is Not My Friend

I love my husband. He is my favourite person in the whole world, if it were anything less than that I wouldn't have ever committed to spending my entire life with him, but I will never play video games with him. 

Let me explain. 

There are many types of couples, and my standard textbook belief is that different things work for different people and how you govern your relationship has a lot to do with what you want out of it. However I notice a tende...

Diary Of A Domme

Anyone who knows me, and by that I mean anyone who knows me sexually, is aware that there is no dominant side to me. I find absolutely no pleasure in hurting people either, and while there was once a very short phase I dabbled in sadism, the truth is that most of that experience only made me feel envious of the people I was hurting. I believe that phase was borne out of a deep desire to hurt myself. It's hard to explain because even though I have physically hurt myself before in life, I didn'...

Episode 2: Why the hell do you want to be a slave?

Hi! 

In our second episode we discuss why someone would want to be a slave, what that means, how to manage it and how to do it safely. 

Cliff Notes: 

I've pondered the difference between submission and slavery for a while, and it is still hard to determine the defining features but there are some things I can somehow say:

- Submission makes me feel like a human being, slavery makes me feel like an object or property. ...

The Procurer

The cave that we took her to was very dark; too dark for her to be able to navigate without our support.
I could tell she didn't like it. Who would like it?
Depending on the vile creatures that abducted you for support to get to an unknown destination that you know for sure that you don't want to get to has to be an immensely frustrating thing.

She was terrified too; that could only have made it worse. I had hit her earlier, just enough to subdue her but she didn't know that. <...

Podcast E24: Oof this political rant.

It came out of nowhere!

Ugly.

*One drink.*
That's what I tell myself as I sit down on the bar stool. Just one, in the name of a more *normal* social life.  
All bars smell the same; sweetened smoke, old wood, new leather, the human being and oil.
That's the best I can break it down, anyway. I have to do something while I sip the one drink that I came for. I don't really care for the music; it's not my taste but I sway along as I sip my beer.

I don't feel as involved as i wanted to be; I get up to le...

Ancilla's Dirty Diary: "What The Fuck Do You Even Call This Fetish?" (26/11/21)

25 November 2021

He punched a dildo inside me. I don't know how else to put that. The dildo, god I hate that word, was inside me and he was fucking me with it as if it were an actual hammer because he was unhappy that I got turned on when he told me he wanted to ensure I spent every spare moment I had for the rest of the week crying, and while I wasn't exactly fighting it, it was hard to keep my legs spread during that. It was reflexive, it's impossible to not resist th...

The Two Men In My Bed.

When he came back into the room, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, keeled over, and clutching my abdomen. He walked past me, without a word, and pulled off the grey towel that was wrapped around his hips. I looked up at him as he hung it up. He looked harmless in that moment — clean, dry and flaccid — but he also looked beautiful. He is a beautiful man, and when I am not trying to keep my insides from falling out of me after he beats the fuck out of me, I can see why I am so attra...

Ancilla's Dirty Diary: "I'm Not Sure I Want To find Out Why. (24/11/21)

24 November 2021

You ever feel like you cannot identify your own intentions? I guess that's not as possible as I would like to think it is, and it is more likely that I don't want to admit what I know is the truth.

Yesterday, I had a very entertaining conversation with daddy getting him to admit that in actuality, he hates going down on women. I have always known this about him, but he has never been able to admit it, and in his defence, not only would he never a...

Podcast E23: Community Leaders, fuck-ups and a tiny bit of advice.

Hello! 

I feel like this is the best episode I have ever done. It's honest, it's unpredictable but informative. 

Enjoy! 

Her Special Friend.

Trigger Warning:  Age *Play* (or something else disturbing enough to be warned against).

......

She removes her slippers before she cracks the door open. She holds her breath and listens for any indication that she has been heard. When she is sure all is still calm, she picks up her bear and quietly leaves the room. 

She calls him *Bear*; she named him when she was too young to know that she'd grow up to realize how ridiculous that name was. When she had gott...

Episode 1: Why The Hell Do You Like Rape Play?

Hello! 

I've started a new public audio-series called: "Why The Hell Do You Like That?" 

It's a series where in each episode I take a fetish and discuss it from various perspectives — why does one like it, how to practise it, where does it come from, its relation to the socio-sexual narrative, how to realistically deal with it, the risk profile, personal experiences, what you could be missing about it, why does it work, how to approach it if you just do not understand�...

Special.

“You’re not like other girls,” he says, “I see something special in you.”

Even though a part of me knew that he probably says that to all women, I like hearing it. No one had ever told me I was special. I fiddle with my phone so as to avoid his gaze; I don’t want him to know how much importance I have attributed to one simple sentence.

He wouldn’t understand what it meant to me.
I am simple girl; plain and easy to ignore. I rarely speak up and interact; I guess...

I Am Not A Woman in his Bed.

I had sex with my clothes still on me. I feel like I haven't done that it in a long time. They weren't even nice or sexy clothes, but they were warm. Suddenly, it's cold and foggy. I got back home at a quarter to seven and it wasn't very cold then, but when we got in the car at nine, everything was covered in a dense, shocking fog.  It came out of nowhere. I'm not complaining, I quite like the fog, I just wasn't expecting it. I wasn't expecting to smell the fog. I am very resp...

The Animal.

It's dark outside. It has to be because the clock says it's well past nine. It doesn't matter though. It doesn't matter that the sun comes up every morning and children scurry away to school with giant backpacks that seem to grow bigger each year. It doesn't matter because inside this house, it's always night. The thick black curtains are always drawn, every crevice and crack is carefully filled in, the lights are always dimmed and every hour is cocktail hour. For him, anyway.

For me,...

The Fear of A Needle.

"I'm scared," I admitted, the moment the smell of rubbing alcohol started to waft through the air.

I find it is best to admit fear. When I was younger I used to think it makes me more interesting to be fearless, and often when I found myself in situations where I anticipated having my limits pushed, I pretended I wasn't scared at all. The first time I got a tattoo, I pretended it didn't scare me. The first time I got something weird pierced, I pretended I wouldn't even notice the pain...

Audio Story: Ruins of Pain.

As yet unscarred. Mostly. Unbroken. Mostly. His fingers in my heart and his breath on my soul. Me living, six feet under the ground and me dying, six feet above it. 

I'm going to hurt you so much, he said. 

Yes, please. 

The afternoon sinking into darkness. Maybe the night is real. More likely imagined. His fingers around my throat. A lifetime, gone, without noticing how naked I felt there, until he draped me. <...

Podcast E22: How my husband got the most drunk he has ever been.

This is really just one story. I don't know I managed to take forty minutes to tell it. Well, find out how. 

Haha.