He brought Carrots with a smile. But my body had already whispered no.
Dear Diary,
How much of a man do you need to see before your body already knows the answer is no? What if the first three seconds are the truest ones?
Yesterday I met Mr Peranakan.
A few hours before our session, he sent a sexy tease— Saying he wanted to savour my Abalone while I was on my Zoom call. I returned the favour, asking him to imagine me tasting his Banana under the desk, have his Coconut Cream loaded into my mouth like a secret mission, to be executed quietly without alarming his coworkers.
He liked it slow— With his glan teased and tickled artfully not “Sucked like a vacuum cleaner”. I chuckled.
Do other girls really do that? I wondered.
THE SUNSET SWIM
I took an evening swim under the warm pink skies. The pool water cooled my tight pink blossoms beneath my bikini as the sun laid low, preparing for what I thought would be a sensual night.
Dripping with chlorine and clarity, I walked home past my usual meeting spot and noticed a Chinese man standing there, looking around excitedly. His eyes landed upon me.
Twenty minutes early— Could that be him?
I glanced for just a second, discreetly. Suddenly, my inner voice whispered: If that is him… I don’t think I can do this. It wasn’t the voice of logic. It was instinct— feminine & primal. Evolution seeded it into our spine, trained to detect danger in split seconds.
Back home, I saw his message: He has arrived. Too coincidental. I asked for his photo. Usually only men who are confident of their looks skip sending a photo as a pre-screening process and I trusted them.
But if that was him..?
THE BATTLE OF VOICES
The self destructing photo arrived. And yup! That felt like him alright. Funny, I hadn’t even consciously seen his face, but my body knew..
In the shower, I was contemplating to cancel our rendezvous.
“If I do it now, I don’t have to put on makeup and waste both our time.”, a Whisper emerged.
But my left hemisphere brain battled that voice with its logical thinking “He’s already here. Just meet him first.” The second voice was so familiar, born from politeness, habit and the desire to avoid extra hassle.
I toweled off, spreaded my invigorating sage scented lotion across my skin, brushed my foundation makeup and fluffed my bunny fur. I went out to pick him up in my one piece black Victoria Secret romper with exposed titts, nipples hidden behind the sewn threads of flowery silhouette.
He came up the stairs.
One look and I knew…
I wasn’t comfortable.
As the voices battled, my body led him back to my burrow out of habit.
He was eager.
But I felt misaligned.
Obligation can be an erotic fantasy until your temple quietly closes its gates from within.
I HONOR YOU
After what felt like an eternity of undoing his shoelaces, he finally stood beneath the kitchen lights. I could see him clearly now. But I wasn’t just looking at his appearance— I was sensing energy.
He cheerfully pulled out his paper basket and began counting the currency—100 grams of CARROTS™ at a time, in the most dramatic way I’d ever seen. No other LOVERS™ had done it like that.
While he was doing that, something instantly took over me:
“Sorry, I don’t think I’m comfortable”.
Those words left my mouth before I even understood them. The whisper declared my truest inner feelings before I had time to suppress it. This was the first time in my life I’ve ever admitted my feelings before the session starts.
My logical brain panicked and override my lips: “You looked like you’re in your 50's. I could consider it at my original rate.” (I gave 100g discount that month because I was horny). Yet deep inside, the Whisper from my heart was saying: “What the hopping heck? I wouldn’t even want to even if I get more carrots!”.
Thankfully, He gathered his carrots and chose not to ‘Top up’.
He choose to leave. He murmured “How I know…”
It sounded like he didn’t read my Playroom Rules to understand the kind of Gentlemen I wish to meet. I wasn’t asking for Chris Hemsworth or Godfrey Gao. Just someone whose presence didn’t make all my white fur stand.
“Do I get my deposit back?”, He asked.
The air tightened, so did my breath.
A question that instantly placed me under pressure.
Had I not spend time preparing my mind and body, disclosed my private residential address and exposed my identity in person? Was none of that worth a token of consideration? I pondered.
He sat back down, tying his laces like he was bracing for a zombie apocalypse— loop after loop, knot after knot. It was amusing, in its own strange way…
But I’m grateful he left without making a big scene.
It’s not easy being alone with a men in a room.
And even more grateful that this time, I finally honored myself.
LIBERATION
After he left, I felt 10% guilt but unexpectedly, 90% liberation.
No more heavy shoulders and tight chest.
No more forcing myself to go through with it for the sake of CARROTS™.
Carrots are nice to have.
But lately, I’ve promised myself never to fake chemistry when there is none. To pretend otherwise would be a disservice to him too— He wouldn’t be receiving the fullest, most erotic version of me. And I have never really enjoyed acting. It erodes my soul— One silence at a time. I didn’t want my Carrots to become a different kind of dirty, as if I am selling pieces of my soul to the Devil each day.
I wanted every intimacy with my LOVERS™ to be pleasant and erotically exciting.
“I’ve never really enjoyed acting. It erodes my soul— One silence at a time.
I didn’t want my Carrots to become a different kind of dirty, as if I am selling pieces of my soul to the Devil each day.”
I’ve observed that in BUNNYLAND™, girls are socially conditioned to be polite and hide our own feelings. To silence the Whispers. To value pretense over authenticity. And afterwards, what do we carry?
Bitterness and resentment.
Yet we expect ourselves to wake up the next day sprinkling petals of love and perform for the next LOVERS™— Like as if these are merely physical acts requiring no emotional attunement nor energetic connection. As if all Men are too blind to sense the difference.
It just didn’t make any sense.
To me, sex is soul satisfying only when it comes from a place of comfort, a sense of ease and trust.
So no, I ain’t gonna be a Pavlov’s dog.
Yesterday, not only have I officially left Singapore’s Toxic Sex Forum (SBF)— I broke a negative cycle. I am an Independent Sex Bunny, not a self-pimp. Screw all those inner negotiations that whispers, “Just do it, he’s already here.”
I am no longer that Bunny.
I have evolved.
I don’t follow the crowd, I follow my heart.
I choose authenticity over pretense,
Self love over suppression,
Alignment over obligation,
While this may be slightly unheard of among Bunnies…
I’ve chosen to grow spirituality.
I liberated myself— because no one will do it for you.