Daniel Guy's Blog

by Daniel Guy Clive stares at the cardboard box lying in the hallway and sighs.   His ex-girlfriend Julia had taken everything else that belonged to her when she’d walked out three weeks before, except this one box. She said she would collect it but despite several messages reminding her, the box is still there.     ‘Fuck it’ he mumbles and picks it up. He’s about to take it out to the bin but can’t quite do it. Supposing there’s something valuable in it? He peels off a bit of tape and peers in beneath the lid.   It looks like clothes and nothing more. He shakes the box to make sure and hears a faint rattle.   He peels off the rest of the tape and opens the lid.   Among the summer skirts and colourful silk knickers he finds a black rectangular cardboard box, about eight inches long.   On the side is written: Bimbo Dildo – A vibrator to possess you. He smiles. The box is unopened. He can’t imagine Julia ever owning a dildo.   He believes she was hung up about sex, and

by Daniel Guy Nadia is studying Law at university because she’s ambitious. She is determined to have a good job, money and success.  She’s nineteen, bright and pretty, with long jet-black hair and a beautiful figure.  But she’s in debt and, like many students, she’s thinking about earning extra cash through escorting.  She mentions it to a few friends casually, hoping to find someone who can give her some advice. Then one day, as she’s standing in the queue in the library, a woman approaches. She’s older, blond, and she’s wearing a tight black latex mini skirt. ‘Hi, are you Nadia?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Hi. I’m Lisa. I hear through a friend of mine that you want to get into escort work.  I hope you don’t mind me approaching you like this, but I think I might be able to help. Shall we step outside for a chat?’ Nadia follows Lisa out to a park bench by the lawn where they sit in the spring sunshine. Lisa lights a cigarette and tells her story. ‘I’m studying politics.  I’m in

Vicky is at the mirror. She has a date. She brushes her teeth, checks her make-up and hair. She’s attractive and in good shape. All the time she is thinking about Max, wondering whether it’s a good idea to be going out with him for lunch. He’s the art teacher who runs the weekly life drawing class that she’s been attending for the past six months. He’s probably fifty. The last time Vicki went out with a man twenty years older, it was a complete disaster. But there’s something about Max she’s drawn to, though she has no idea what it is. Maybe it’s his thick, grey curly hair, or the old brown corduroy jacket he always wears, or the passionate sparkle in his eyes when he talks about art.     She’s on the way to the bar and she gets a message from her friend Emma, who also attends the art class, so she knows all about max. ‘Still think you’re crazy – but call me when it’s over. I want to know how it goes.’ Vicki arrives ten minutes late and Max greets her with a warm smile and com