I dated a cuckold

I went along with his fetish, because it sounded like a rock-star dream. I wanted power, but I got trapped instead

Published September 13, 2013 11:00PM (EDT)

  (<a href='http://www.shutterstock.com/gallery-217465p1.html'>Alan Poulson Photography</a> via <a href='http://www.shutterstock.com/'>Shutterstock</a>)
(Alan Poulson Photography via Shutterstock)

My iPhone screen lit up as I lay awake in my hotel room. I was on tour, and my band was all asleep, but for a few months I’d been texting with another musician I’ll call Florida. We spent one night together in Austin at SXSW, where we stayed up until 7 a.m. and fooled around all morning until I left, frazzled and braless, to play a daytime showcase. Since then, we’d both been on the road, and so we’d been sexting: the ever-so-intimate telegraph of modern solo jerk-offs.

“I want to tell you something,” Florida wrote. “It’s my fetish...”

“Go on,” I typed. “You can tell me...

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By Mish Way

Mish Way is a front woman of the punk band White Lung. When not on tour, she contributes regularly to VICE, Bust, National Post, The Talkhouse, amongst others. She is 100% West Coast and refuses to stop bleaching her hair.  

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