After a sexually frustrating marriage led to divorce, I chased increasingly extreme BDSM encounters. But I never felt truly satisfied. Had I been looking for the wrong thing all along?
T
o everyone else, it probably looked like a regular summer’s evening. Couples and families enjoying the beer garden, people playing cricket on the green – and I was being handcuffed in the passenger seat of a 4x4 by a man I barely knew.
My name is Leesa, and I’m a recovered sex addict.
I was 32 years old, and we’ll call the man Simon. I was fresh out of a divorce, and I had met Simon two weeks earlier on a website for people who were into BDSM (that’s bondage, dominance, submission and masochism, for the uninitiated).
