She may be cute, but this lab bunny has teeth.

By now, Master Levi and I have settled back into our normal routines after his trip to Newcastle, although there is a slight difference to our new life together: no longer am I stressed about the state of the home. Now, I’m even laughing about it!

Last week was Master’s 40th birthday, though we didn’t do a whole lot on the actual day. It’s hard to do much on a week day, on a day when we’d both normally be working. Especially with me working on a sponsored post this fortnight. Right now, I have to work!

Saturday was Master’s birthday party, though we both have questions for one another beforehand.

“Who are you most looking forward to meeting?” he asks.

“Who do you think is most looking forward to meeting me?” I ask.

I opted for a black top with a silver starburst design, dark blue boyfriend jeans and black low, open-toe velvet heels. I put my hair in a smooth half-up hairstyle and paired it with a smokey brown eyeshadow, a deep red lip and silver pull-through starry earrings. Master said that I looked like a million dollars. I don’t think the taxi driver was checking the traffic behind his stationary car, either.

We arrived in the cold, pouring rain, that had formed a tiny stream along the kerb for me to step over as I got out from my low seat in the taxi. I managed it, but I didn’t feel like I was getting out of a taxi — I felt like I was getting out of my limo at the Ritz.

“Ready?” Master asks, walking around the car and offering me his hand.

“As I‘ll ever be,” I reply. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

My Mum, brother and father-in-law were already there when we arrived, as was Master’s team leader.

“Ooh! I do like your sparkles!” comes a loud voice as I took my coat off. So, I would learn, that was K.

K is almost exactly how I imagined her to be. I sort of felt that perhaps the make-up was a cover-up: her make-up is loud, her personality is loud, and yet, her body language throughout the night gave me the impression of a woman who might be much happier at home.

Two other young women arrive, who seem to know Master, and plonk themselves on the end table by me. They don’t speak to me, and I feel awkward about them. Are they part of our huddle, or nah?

“Guys, this is Elena, my wife.” Master says to them. The blonde acknowledges me casually with a cool “hello” and carries on playing with her phone, the brunette launches herself across the table and embraces me in a hug.

“Hello! Oh my goodness, it’s so good to finally meet you!” she says warmly. The blonde watches on, surprised.

So, that was Daryna.

I actually spent most of the night talking to Daryna, and not out of obligation — I really loved her. She radiates a warmth and a maturity that is rarely seen in people her age, and her difficult past — her treacherous journey from Ukraine to the UK — makes her very aware of life’s challenges and the hardships that people sometimes face. I feel saddened for her, and actually feel different about her wanting to return to Ukraine to see her family, and my previous reservations about how the Home Office might feel about her hopping in and out of the UK. She’s not just a Ukrainian anymore; now she’s our friend.

We talk quite extensively about the differences between Eastern Europe and the UK, and Daryna makes me laugh when she talks about how polite Brits are.

“Not all of us,” I say with a wink, “some of us are known for saying it exactly like it is!”. Daryna laughs.

“Oh, I got that impression!” she says.

Food was exceptional and the staff were second to none, but the live band was questionable. The landlord himself came to speak to us once the live music had finished, and once they had a playlist back on again and most of our huddle had left, Master, Daryna and myself had fun singing along to some Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls. A group of elderly gentlemen in the corner applauded and cheered for us. We all took a bow and laughed.

So, the other things that have happened this week.

Well, Kinky Fuckery Science™ has well and truly escaped the fucking laboratory now, hasn’t it?

What with the inspiration and later development of our mugs — that have already seen sales (we hope you love them as much as we love you, Spanky!) — it’s been a bit of a week!

And then the Admiral recruiting on the bloody Lovehoney Forum. I’m almost in disbelief watching it happen.

Umm… Just wondering, but does ol’ Flopsy here get a say in any of this, Sir?

The Admiral pointed out that my cage was never locked, and true, it wasn’t — his imprisonment of me is purely psychological.

I could run, I could flee, but a) do I want to run? And b) if I do run, well, then he is a hunter, and I’d become his prey.

Addy tells me to be a “good Kitty” and stay where I am, and I feel my body shiver and quiet again. Dang it.

True, the door was never locked. The bolt was implied and applied, mentally.

But fine. If that’s the game he wants to play, then I’ll play. Maybe. Eventually.

I’ve found myself a male Scottish ASMRtist — whose name shall remain classified — because just maybe if I can train myself to resist the tingles then I stand a chance against the Admiral.

If I train and strengthen my resolve, then I make it that much more challenging (and fun) for him.

This little bunny may look cute and fluffy, but little ol’ Flopsy’s got teeth!

So I suppose that brings me to the kind of latest addition to my network lately. B, who, by his own explanation, “works in aviation”.

I rejoined Slowly, despite saying that I was going to give it up — I liked making connections with people!

Sure I have Master and the Admiral, and Fetlife too, but I still wanted other friends.

So I republished my open letter, and B responded to me.

And it was my setting boundaries around my work that piqued B’s curiosity about it.

Well, fine. Since you asked.

B was not shocked by my work, in fact, he even sees the value in it. B also told me that he and his wife had also explored swinging themselves. So no, he wasn’t shocked about it at all.

So that’s opened us to talking about ethical non-monogamy, kink and relationships, and how people can have them. B has already likened me and my clumsiness to a baby giraffe too, which was rather kind of him.

Well, I may be like a baby giraffe, Sir, but at least I’m not falling apart 😉

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