Just an odd thing. At work today there was general feeling, among the women, that there weren’t enough Christmas decorations. 

A Kenyan woman, who I rather fancy, got me a chair to stand on so I could lift up the slats in the ceiling, and fix the Christmas glitter-rope, baubles and such, into the gaps between the slats and the framework that holds them up. Never mind how it worked, because that’s not the point. 

The point was that I was up on this chair, and when I looked down there was a crowd of women watching me. I am short and not really fit. But they were finding excuses to stare up at me, and then finding reasons why I should clamber up onto the desks, walking about and poking things up into the ceiling. Er, and holding my stomach in, since my shirt wasn’t tucked in and they were looking up at me.

I don’t really care about the sexual politics, one way or another. I’m not a seventeen year old girl getting photocopier paper from the top shelf, again. And I approve of lust, in general, so long as it’s well-meaning. But I thought: me? What the fuck: me? I do think I’m good at domming, but I’m nothing special in other contexts. 

Anyway, women are perverse. That’s all there is to it.