My first novel, ‘1919’, which I wrote in 2007/8, deals with the experience of a female-dominant relationship from the perspective of the male narrator.
I suppose, looking back from five years after I began it, it’s easy to see where it came from, what was coming to the boil in my skull at that time.
I’d moved to Liverpool in 2006, to live as a 24/7 pet. that didn’t really work out, so my Owner and I renegotiated the relationship as Mistress/slave, but her heart wasn’t really in it, as far as I could see.
She withdrew emotionally after my teensy wee bowel cancer scare, admitting later “I though you were going to leave me – like the others”. Those were her exact words.
Presumably she’d said goodbye to her previous lovers with them in hospital beds wearing nappies.
So, there I was. Two hundred and fifty miles from home, alone among the scouse-people and living with someone who told me at one point that she “loved me too much to hurt me.”
The concept of the ‘mercy thrashing’, for instance, came about after the death of one of my closest friends. I’d asked my then partner if she’d mind administering a beating. I’m a masochist – physical pain works as a route through emotional pain; and considering I’d lost a former Domme, my mother and now my best mate in a year, a bit of fucking leeway would have been quite nice, thank you very much.
So that’s where my head was at during the writing of 1919.