Ancilla L

A Penitent Season: Prologue.

Note: This is the (publicly-posted) prologue to a series of writings that span a 14-day period of erotic penance. I will post one every day and it will only be available to Patreons who subscribe to my writing. You can access all the writing in this series at this tag. 

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Prologue

I have been following him around the house all evening. Each time he stands up, whether it is to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen or to go c...

Secret Faith.

When she was little, my sister used to go to a Gurudwara in secret on her way to school every day. We weren't raised in a particularly religious household, at least, in that we were not taught a faith-based morality and everyone was free to believe or not believe. My mother is a woman of faith but it would be hard to determine which faith she practises. She was born to a Hindu family, in a part of the country where the practise of Buddhism is prevalent, she married a Sikh man whose family had...

Podcast E47: An Exploration of Gaslighting.

I've been gaslit. You've been gaslit. We've all been gaslit. Now, let's scratch the surface. 

A Broken Song

I woke up to the strangest sound. It had been raining heavily since midnight and the sound of the thunder which had engulfed me like a warm blanket through the night was being interrupted by a bird. Maybe it was a pigeon, maybe it was a parrot. I don't know, I don't know many birds. It wasn't an ordinary song that she sang, it sounded like she had been electrocuted and the chirping which is normally bright and annoying, sounded like a malfunctioning transistor radio. She was suffering, but it...

A Previously Loved Toy.

He pushed his hand down on my chest, and when it scared me enough to back away and gasp, he laughed.

"Who's going to stop me?" He asked, "No one's ever coming for you, my little orphan."

Orphan. Hearing that word made the sides of my lower lip curve visibly downward. As if a mascara frown had just been comically-drawn on my face. In my head I pictured myself as a sad clown, as if there is any other kind.  

"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" He asked, his eyes gleaming with...

Fuck A Cheating Woman.

"You are disloyal," he said to me, "A faithless fucking woman."

It's not untrue. I think nothing of cheating in many ways. Now that I am in a respectful, healthy relationship, I wouldn't cheat. It's not because I don't need to, I never really needed to before now either. I wouldn't do it now because I believe my partner deserves the truth, there is no justifiable reason to cheat on him. With my ex I could pull any card, not that I believe one shitty behaviour deserves another, I just b...

Podcast E46: The Indian Identity And White People.

I have been interacting with a group of expats who have settled down in a small town in India for the purpose of their devotion and I am learning a lot about the impact of globalised racism. 

Do you wanna learn that too? 

Why I Grew My Hair.

Mama used to brush my hair with a fine-toothed comb right after she made me dry them in the sun. I hated it so much. She didn't let me loosen the knots in my hair while they were still wet because she worried they would break and that would thin them, so when she put the comb through them, and each time it got stuck, she would force the comb through. I would scream and cry, but I knew I had to sit there until she got out all the knots. It was a moral-failing to have hair that didn't allow a c...

What She Did With My Lover.

Her shoe fell on the right side of my face. I saw it slip off her foot and fall the three-feet between my bed and the floor but I couldn't get out of its way. My neck was secured so tightly to the bed and my limbs tied so firmly to each other, there was no place to go. I could still see her foot hanging off the frame as the other shoe landed right on top of my cunt. I couldn't help but try to rub up against it, but I hoped she wasn't looking. The shoe slipped off my face and rested beside it,...

Podcast E45: Sexual fetishes as states of mind.

Is it really about a whip? A gag? An action? Or are we trying to curate specific states of being with the things we do? Is emotion the actual underlying fetish to everything? Oh, and what are the ethics of affairs?

Find out how much I do not know by listening. 

Unrecognisable.

 


"I'll be right back, babbear," he said to me, as he bolted out of the bedroom.

I giggled at the hypocorism he often uses to address me. I remember the night he started using it, seven years ago, when in the throes of an adrenaline crash that rendered me incoherent, I became convinced that I was the human embodiment of the cross between a baboon and a bear. I don't know why, insanity doesn't have a reason, it is its own reason. I am not one for affectionate little nic...

A Story Made Of Invisible Ink.

While walking out of the living room she noticed that all the candles in the silver stand where not the same. The two on the right were long, white tapered candles but the one on the left was a tapered vanilla-scented candle. Not many people would have noticed the difference between the two. The curtains were not drawn and sunlight was pouring into the room. In light that harsh it's not easy to differentiate between two shades of white but she could. She could always tell exactly what things ...

Podcast E44: Aging: Sexually, socially and professionally.

We talk about aging in very specific settings (either health or experience as an excuse for sanctimony), but there is so much more to aging that goes undiscussed. 

And then there are taxes. 

Enjoy! 

Illegitimate Children Of The Night.

'You and I, illegitimate children of the night. We know, don't we, darkness is not the opposite of light.'

It was dark. The kind of darkness you cannot grow accustomed to because it never abates. It doesn't get dark like that in the city, and in the last decade it doesn't get dark like that in most mountains either. The last time I experienced darkness like this it was in a tiny fishing village on the South-West coast. It was beautiful and too quiet. All you could hear was the...