Driving home from the club through the rainy night time streets of London, Dawn delivered her ultimatum from the passenger seat.  I gripped the steering wheel hard, struggling with fatigue and the greasy wet roads.

‘Did you see what he did?’ she said


‘Your friend Doc’

‘What did he do?’

‘He completely ignored me. He blanked me as if I wasn’t even there’


‘and you didn’t do anything about it’

Shit. Shitty fucking arse. Like the most cunning of tacticians Dawn never started a fight she hadn’t already won. I was already on the ropes taking a beating and we’d barely begun. Dawn outclassed me in every way mentally, she was smarter, more experienced, a practiced debater, and just plain mental.

I stared ahead keeping my eyes on the road and ventured a few noncommittal defences only to have them blown away by a fierce tirade of ‘You just don’t care about me’. I was fucked, if I could just make it back to my flat and get out before she lost her temper I might make it through the weekend.

‘You can’t see him anymore. I won’t be with anyone who supports that man and what he did to me. It’s either him or me, you have to choose’

There it was; a hammer blow to my stomach, the ultimatum of woman power. I could either have sex or friends.

I had paused too long.

‘You don’t love me. You never loved me, It was all a lie’

‘I do love you’ I said


I shut up and drove faster, we would be back to mine in a few minutes and then Dawn could drive back to her place on her own. Maybe she’d calm down given some time.

I got out of the car and Dawn slid into the driver’s seat, closing the door and rolling down the window.

‘Well’ she said ‘what’s your decision?’

‘I love you’ I said

‘That’s not an answer’

‘It’s all I have. I love you’ I said.

She drove off and I went into the flat, walked upstairs and collapsed on the bed. The night had gone so well up until the drive home. It was TG’s birthday event at a new club and we’d been keen to see what it was like. The club was great, plenty of space, numerous little cubbyholes, a great dance floor, and excellent décor.

I’d met Kurt and we’d discussed building a website to service the fetish scene in London, it seemed like a brilliant idea, both of us could write websites, Kurt knew a bunch of people, and I was handy with a camera. We would write reviews and show photos of the clubs. All we needed to do was sit down and get stuck in.

I’d waved at Doc as he passed, unable to go over and say hello thanks to his and Dawn’s previous falling out, but glad to see him out and about. We’d met a bunch of people we were familiar with and had a great time overall. It was all wiped out by the terrible drive home. I lay there thinking, too tired to struggle out of my heavy leather jeans, my mind whirling, as it so often did after an argument with Dawn. I wondered what I could possibly have said to make things better. Deep inside I suspected that there was nothing I could have done. Dawn seemed to positively enjoy the arguments, they stimulated her in a way that almost nothing else did, not sex, not clubbing, not even the kinky stuff we’d tried out.

I was introduced to the scene by Lara, a friend of Doc’s, we were an item for a few months and we managed to get to a couple of clubs before she dumped me. After I was dumped by Lara I felt very sorry for myself. The first week was by far the worst as I had a new job in a new city far away from my friends. Living in a hotel was not the best way to recover from heartache.

I resolved to actually do something about it and take advantage of my enforced abstinence. I would get a piercing. Not just any piercing but a Prince Albert. The following weekend I went to Tribalize where I had my last tattoo done and where I knew they did piercings. However they didn’t do genital piercings and directed my over to Kensington Market where there was a reliable guy who would be able to sort me out.

This is where I met Kurt who would turn out to be quite significant. However at this point he was merely observing Simon, the piercingmeister, do his work. I’m not proud of this, but as Simon loomed over my groin with a needle the size a knitting needle, I fainted. Fortunately by the time I came round Simon had finished his business and two cups of sweet tea later I was fit to gingerly make my way home.

My next piece of action was to place a lonely hearts advert in AWOL, a biker magazine, the ad read as follows:

Could you tame a Purple Monster???

Needed: one feminine monster tamer, must be attractive (in your own way), young (at heart), intelligent and strong-willed, a good sense of humour, a fair amount of tolerance and be of any colour (but especially purple!).

Monster: eighteen stone of (almost) pure muscle, bald, goateed, scary looking but soft hearted, 30, lives in South London, has a Suzuki GSXR1100WR, is tattooed and pierced, very intelligent, with a computer job and a good but cruel sense of humour.

Applicants can e-mail purplemonster@XXX.co.uk or send a letter to The Purple Monster here:

I was surprised that I got quite a few replies to this, as I was expecting almost none. The first letter I received and replied to resulting in a one night stand and making a friend for life. The second letter was from Dawn, she left her phone number and we called back and forth a couple of times and arranged a date. I picked Dawn up on my bike and we rode to a Tex-Mex restaurant at Crystal Palace. We talked and talked over dinner and chatted for a while afterwards before I dropped Dawn off. Over the next few dates we progressed from talking to kissing and then heavy petting by the fireside in her living room. I introduced her to my friends and she got on with them despite ruffling a few feathers.

I had replied to a couple of the other letters that came from my ad but they had gone nowhere and Dawn was far too interesting for me to carry on elsewhere. She was a slender 5’8″ with some nice curves in the right places and a wiggle in her walk. She was a Goth and dressed in black, black, and more black. She loved to ride on the back of my bike and sit by the fireside and talk. I told her of my previous visits to clubs and she said that she would really like to go as well.

Dawn and I dated for a number of weeks, I introduced her to my friends and she was a stimulating and entertaining conversationalist. Afterwards we would go back to her place and kiss and cuddle for hours into the night. We slowly grew more confident with each other and as my piercing had healed by now, Dawn was eager to try it out; we hadn’t gotten intimate yet so this was to be our first time together.

Our first fetish club was naturally with TG. Torture Garden, as it is formally known, runs an event every month at a venue somewhere in central London. When I was first going out with Dawn TG were using the Dungeon Club in Vauxhall. I didn’t realise that the club was in Vauxhall and drove us to the wrong place the first time we went. Fortunately this was quickly fixed and we ended up in Vauxhall only a little later.

At the time all I had to wear was leather jeans and a leather waistcoat, the bare minimum to qualify for entry. Dawn of course just had to throw on any one of her slinky dresses to be admitted without question. It’s always easier for women to get into fetish clubs because men have such a limited choice of outfits that are acceptable. When you’re in your early days of clubbing you’re not quite ready for outrageous costumes.

The Dungeon club, like many others, is inside a number of railway arches, this provides an excellent space with the arched roof and there are frequently little alcoves and dark passages to entice the unwary. The Dungeon was no exception; it had two main arches, and a set of smaller spaces beyond. The first arch featured a dance floor, bar, and stage. The second arch was dedicated to a dungeon zone and chill out area while the small dark passages became home to the swingers and kinksters who wanted to get it on in the dark.

We wandered around, admiring all the well dressed clubbers and hot women. I saw Jane, who I had met previously with Lara and went over to say hello. I introduced her to Dawn and we chatted for a while, until Jane’s submissive boyfriend came over to be fucked with the big black rubber strapon that Jane was wearing. We watched for a moment, admiring Jane’s technique but you can have too much of a good thing so we moved on shortly.

The rest of the night went by too quickly. I lost track of Dawn when I was diverted by a fashion show on the small stage. Three gorgeous models in rubber dresses were parading around, switching outfits every few minutes. I found Dawn again a little while later and we stopped to watch the play in the dungeon, eventually becoming so inspired that we headed home to sate our lusts.

Over the next few months Dawn and I went to a number of clubs and dived heartily into the scene. I had met Kurt a few times and he was always helpful, enquiring after my piercing and making sure that everything had healed up okay. We talked about stretching it out and what sort of size ring I would be able to put in it. Kurt also filled me in on a number of helpful books and websites that dealt with piercings and tattoos.

For some reason Dawn never managed to get on well with Doc. Maybe it was because they were both quite similar and were displeased at seeing their own traits reflected back at them. Or maybe it was just karma, two old souls with a grudge. Whatever the reason they could usually manage to be at least polite to each other for my sake when the three of us went out together or met at a club.

I think that it started after an outing to TG; we were sitting in Doc’s living room in the early hours of the morning, myself, Dawn, Doc, and Dawn’s friend Gwen who was over from France on a visit. I had met Gwen a few times before when she had stayed over at Dawn’s on her frequent trips to London and got to know her a bit. Gwen had been complaining about her love life for every time she visited so we decided to take her to a club so she could see a different side of life.

Gwen was really hot and had had quite a lot of attention at the club. There were always a number of single blokes at fetish clubs looking to pick up girls in what, as far as I could tell, was the mistaken belief that any girls at a fetish club would be ‘easy’.

It was Gwen’s first time to a fetish club and we had sorted out a sexy outfit for her that showed of her trim figure. She was wearing a tight rubber miniskirt and bra that complemented an hourglass physique. Despite being over thirty Gwen had a stunning figure with generous breasts, a slim waist, and a firm rounded ass. There had been many admirers at the club and Gwen had had her choice of suitors.

None of the guys at the club had managed to pick Gwen up and she came back with us to Doc’s on the way to Dawn’s place. We had collapsed into his comfy sofas and taken root. None of us was up to moving so we simple sat and talked about the evening.

Doc mentioned how he was impressed with the number of guys that were hitting on Gwen. This was the cue for Gwen to complain about her love life again.

‘I never find a nice guy’ she said

I replied without thinking ‘Well you shouldn’t sleep with them on a first date then’

‘Rubbish’ said Dawn, jumping in, ‘whether or not you sleep with someone on a first date has nothing whatsoever to do with what sort of person they are’

‘That is right’ said Gwen ‘these guys I see are tricking me’. Doc just smiled and raised his eyes.

‘Listen girls’ I said ‘here’s how it works: if you complain that you can never find a nice guy and at the same time you also have sex with guys on the first date then you’re doing things wrong’

‘Utter tosh’

‘Wait, I’ll explain’ I said ‘There’s two types of guys, nice guys, and bad boys. The only way to tell them apart is not to sleep with them. The bad boys won’t be interested in a woman who won’t sleep with them and will depart post haste. The nice guys however will be interested in a relationship so will stick around in the hopes that things will happen’

‘So you say I should not sleep with them?’ said Gwen

‘Oh no. The thing is that the nice guys will give up after a certain point too, so the trick is to work out how many dates to go on with the guy before getting intimate. Too few and you run the risk of getting tricked by a persistent bad boy, too many and you might put off the right guy’

‘I can’t believe this’ said Dawn ‘that’s not how it works. You sleep with a guy to find out what he’s like, if he’s nice he’ll be there for you’

‘Here’s how men work’ I said ‘bad boys just want sex as easily as possible, they’re not interested in a long term relationship unless it’s with someone who they’re going to be able to totally dominate or use as and when they like and get rid off at the drop of a hat. Nice guys are looking for someone special, they want to be in a happy relationship with an equal partner, in other words a nice girl’

‘and do you think am I a good girl?’ asked Gwen

‘That’s up to you’ I said ‘but you have to realise that both bad boys and nice guys will sleep with a girl on the first date’

‘No they won’t’ said Dawn ‘a nice man will be a gentleman, he would never take advantage of me or Gwen’

‘Oui’ said Gwen nodding in agreement

‘I’m afraid that you’re both mistaken. No man, under any circumstances, will turn down the chance of hot sex with a good looking woman. Not unless he’s gay of course’

‘So I should go out with gay guys then should I?’ said Dawn

‘You could if you wanted to, but no matter how nice they were you wouldn’t get much cock’

Doc laughed and went to make some drinks, leaving me to fend for myself.

‘Bad boys will treat easy sex as a win and move on to the next girl’ I said ‘nice guys will assume that they’ve just got lucky with a bad girl, but they’re not looking for a bad girl, they want to find a nice girl, so they’ll move on too’

‘No that’s wrong’ said Dawn and Gwen nodded agreement again ‘a nice man will stay around because he’s nice, not because we’ve slept with him’

‘How does this nice guy know that you’re a nice girl?

‘Because it’s obvious from the way we act, we’re nice to him and he sees that’

‘But all he’s seen is that you’ll sleep with him on a first date. So he’ll assume, because nice guys aren’t full of themselves, that you’ll sleep with anyone else on a first date’

‘But that’s stupid’ said Dawn ‘nobody is going to make that assumption’

‘Everyone makes that sort of assumption all the time. Let me explain’

‘Go on then’ said Dawn with a glint in her eye ‘I’ll give you enough rope to hang yourself’

‘When bad boys don’t get lucky on a first date they make a quick decision: is the girl hot enough to bother with a second date? If she is they’ll maybe go for a second or third date on the chance that they’ll get lucky. Then, if, by the third date, a bad boy hasn’t got any action he’s going to drop the girl as a wasted effort. ‘

I took a breath, trying to work out where I was going with this.

‘When nice guys don’t get lucky on a first date they start to think that maybe this girl is a nice girl and hope that things will progress on the second and third dates. The nice guy, assuming that things are getting more intimate with each date, is reassured that this is a nice girl he’s dating, and that he can carry on investing time and effort knowing that it will be returned eventually’


‘Each date is an investment in time and effort, bad boys are only interested in a quick return on their stake, but nice guys are willing to risk more in the hope of a bigger payoff’

‘So you’re saying that this is all a big game?’

‘Not that anyone thinks of it in terms of a game, what they have is feelings, but those feelings are driven, to a large extent, by the subconscious. The subconscious knows to a very fine measure how much effort has been put into a possible relationship’

Doc came back with the drinks and handed them round while I gathered my thoughts.

‘There’s nothing wrong with having sex with someone on a first date. But there’s a hidden message in that intimacy. Getting too intimate too fast is like pressing fast forward on a porno, you get to the good bits quickly but you miss out on the buildup, which means that everything else is shorter as well. By sleeping with a guy on a first date you’re telling him that you want something quick and easy, that you’re not interested in a relationship’

‘But that’s not how I do it’ said Gwen ‘I give them everything and they just take it and leave’

‘Precisely my point. You’re not holding back and giving a relationship a chance to grow into something serious. You need to ease off the throttle to pick up a passenger’

‘You’re completely missing the point’ said Dawn ‘it’s not about the sex, it’s about trust and giving. We show our trust of them by letting them sleep with us, we give them what they want. They take it and we have to trust them to give it back. If a man can’t give something back then he’s not worth trusting. I certainly don’t trust you after this, you make it all into a game’

‘Well it is a game to a lot of people, they just want to get lucky as easily as possible and the only way to do that is to play the game. I didn’t make the rules, I’m just trying to point them out to you’

‘All you’re interested in is power games’ said Dawn ‘You’re just trying to convince us to play your game. Well I’m not going to play. I’ve had enough of this game’ and she stood up to go ‘Come on Gwen, I’ll drive you home’

Gwen wasn’t quite ready to go yet, she looked at Doc ‘Do you want to sleep with me?’ she said.

Doc looked quite surprised and then apologetic ‘I, err…’ he said ‘I would but I had an encounter at the club and I don’t think I could’

I knew that Gwen wasn’t in with a chance with Doc. Doc always went for the really slim girls with flat chest and there was no way that Gwen’s superb frontage was going to interest him.

Taking Gwen by the hand Dawn fired off one last salvo ‘Neither of these two is any good for you. I’ve got something at home that will help you out’

Gwen looked shocked and without further ado they left. Doc and I sat down with our drinks.

‘Fuck.’ I said ‘Women, eh’


The next morning I hopped on the tube and made my way to Dawn’s place where I had left my motorbike. I arrived around lunchtime and knocked quietly on the door before letting myself in with the key Dawn had given me ages ago.

I walked quietly into the kitchen and started making coffee. After a while Dawn wandered down dressed in the Chinese robe she wore as a dressing gown. She sat down wordlessly and I put a mug of coffee in front of her. I took another mug and went upstairs to the master bedroom where Gwen was dozing. She was lying naked on top of the covers and I admired her figure for a moment before setting the coffee down on her side of the bed.

Heading back I nearly tripped on a loose wire. Looking closer I saw it was the wire for the Eroscillator that I had persuaded Dawn to buy earlier that week. It seemed that she and Gwen had been practicing with it last night before going to sleep.

By the time I got back to the kitchen Dawn was starting to resemble coherent thought.

‘I’m sorry about last night’ I said ‘I wasn’t trying to hurt you’


‘Not everything is the way I was talking about it’

I shut up and let the coffee work its magic while I buttered a croissant for breakfast. After a little while some low sounds started to drift down from upstairs. They picked up in pace and intensity and I soon realised that Gwen was enjoying an early morning workout with the Eroscillator. After a while the sounds peaked and stopped and shortly afterwards Gwen came down to the kitchen too.

‘Bonjour, thank you for the coffee’ she said.

‘You’re welcome. Thank you for being such good company last night, it was a great evening’

‘Until you went all preachy on us’ said Dawn.

‘Yeah I’m sorry about that. I won’t mention it again’

‘I am disappointed that Doc turned me down. Is there something the matter with me?’ said Gwen.

‘That’s not it at all’ I said ‘you’re just not Doc’s type in the least little bit. He likes very skinny women with no chests. Your ample front would actually turn him off’

‘Silly man’

‘Yes, he is’ I said ‘also he’s only interested in anal, either doing it or being done, I doubt you’d be up for his preferences’


‘Penetration of the derriere, I think that’s the right word?’

‘No its enculé’ said Dawn, correct as ever.

‘Oh’ said Gwen ‘I have never done this. But a couple of men I slept with wanted to do it to me’

‘You should try it’ I said ‘it’s nice old fashioned dirty fun’

‘I’ve done it several times with him’ said Dawn waving a hand at me ‘it’s not difficult’

With her eyes looking down Gwen spoke quietly ‘Would you show me?’

I turned to look at Dawn and raised my eyebrows. She sighed and stood up.

‘I suppose so. Anything for a friend. That vibrator just isn’t like the real thing’ Gwen covered her mouth and giggled.

‘But it was recommended by all the magazines’ I said, leading the way up the stairs ‘it got five stars and everything’

‘That’s as well as may be but it still isn’t satisfying’