I’m a ‘bearded woman’ who likes cat roleplay — here’s a week in my sex life

Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger.

This week we hear from Bethany Burgoyne, from London, a pansexual, gender fluid journalist, who’s single and has sex around three times a month.

Bethany, who uses she/they pronouns, is in the kink and BDSM scene. But the 34-year-old struggles with confidence because she’s a ‘bearded woman’. She has lot of excess hair growth, the cause of which doctors have never been able to determine.

‘I hated my body from the age of 10 until I was 28,’ she tells Metro. ‘My hair made me so sad. But around six years ago, I let my leg and armpit hair grow, stopped bleaching my forearm hair, and let my bush blossom.

‘Then, in Covid I grew my facial hair too, and a blond-brown beard appeared. I’ve loved being able to push back against the norm that women need to be hair-free almost everywhere.’

But Bethany still faces bullying. She says: ‘People point and swear at me in the street.’

But despite this, Bethany says being able to love herself has been ‘the greatest, most joyful gift’ of her life.

Without further ado, here’s how Leah got on this week…

The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.

Monday

I wake up today thinking about a crush. They’re a shy, nerdy tech bro, who is friends with my sister. Last time I saw them I suggested we hang out alone, but I’m worried they think I mean platonically.

I check my calendar and it’s a busy week ahead. I’ve got a shibari beginners’ class — which is a type of Japanese bondage. There’s also the London Fetish Film Festival, and a kink party.

I’m keen to get my crush involved in the kink scene. I think a shibari class could be a fun start — so I drop them a message asking if they want to join.

By the afternoon, I get a response back. They’re busy, but interested in future events which is great.

I consider inviting them to the Fetish Film Festival instead, but I don’t want to push them into this scene before they’re ready.

Instead, I text an experienced dominatrix who I’ve been having sex with for the past four years. My dom calls me immediately to confirm he wants to join me at the festival and that, if I’m a good girl, he’ll come home with me and ‘slap me with his c*ck’.

Tuesday

Today I record an episode of my podcast, The Sassy Show. I’m interviewing the founder of a queer kinky rave, based in London. Then I head to a cafe to edit my latest video about prostate massages, which I make for a sensual wellness platform.

I decide to pursue my crush a little further and this time, send them the link to an ‘impact play’ workshop. Impact play is a term used to describe sexual practices that involve hitting or being hit in a consensual way. They reply saying they’re not sure they’re ready.

I take a deep breath, digesting the rejection. I think about what my kinky mentor (who became a sexual partner) would often tell me: ‘BDSM is a marathon, not a sprint, Bethany.’

I remember how long it took me to feel comfortable engaging in different kinds of ‘play’, but I still can’t help but feel some impatience and insecurity bubble up inside me — maybe this crush isn’t the right person for me.

Wednesday

I don’t know whether it’s foolishness or just blind hope, but I send yet another invite to my crush today. Ivoice-note them, asking if they’d like to come with me to my mum’s house.

I know they like dogs, so I let them know I’m going to be looking after her very cute golden retriever.

I’m nervous about their answer, so I invite my kinky mentor over to distract me. Usually, we’d play together, falling into comfortable routines of biting, spanking, and shagging.

He’s tired this time though, and I’m on my period, so we chill, and I give him a massage. As we hug goodbye, I ask for a big squeeze. He obliges, wrapping me in his arms, holding me tight before releasing and giving me a little tap on the bottom.

I always feel warm after seeing him — it’s familiar and safe.

Thursday

I’m having a low self-confidence day. Being a bearded woman and trying to date can be a challenge.

On days like this, I run a bath, wash my body, massage my muscles, and then set up my camera in the bedroom.

I’ve been camming and making commissioned sex tapes for the past three years — it’s a sure way to make an income.

I make two videos showing off my new sets of underwear. If I can sell two videos, I can make my money back from the purchase. Last month, I made £120, which was useful.

I set up the camera in selfie mode, and I have two mirrors facing me so I can watch myself as I move. It’s an exercise of self-love.

I find myself incredibly hot in these moments as I prowl in front of the ring light, bending, stretching, and laying, as I caress my hairs and make love to my own body.

Friday

I spend the day at a kink event for the queer community, which is lovely, as I haven’t been around this group of friends for a while.

A few months ago, I decided to take a break from them after a deep chat with my dad. I told him I wanted a long-term, loving relationship, yet I kept going to events where I was tempted by hot kinkiness.

My dad’s advice was to try different hobbies, so that I could widen my social circle.

I appreciate how open and supportive my parents are. Of course, I only tell them things in a PG way, but they understand and respect my lifestyle.

I still haven’t heard back from my crush. I have a twitch of insecurity at the back of my mind.

Saturday

I’m going to a party on Sunday, which will involve opportunities for BDSM.

One of the organisers asked if I’d like to book a slot. They’ve emailed over the application form, which is full of questions about my fantasies, sexual health, and previous experience.

I fill it out and explain I would like no genital touch, some light impact play, and to be in a position of servitude, ideally as a kitty.

Being treated like a cat is something I’ve been exploring this past year. I enjoy being affectionately stroked while on a collar and lead, following instructions, and being praised.

I also have a furniture fantasy, which is quite new for me — the idea of being completely still and at the service of others is relaxing. It makes me feel needed and in a position of stillness and peace.

Later, I go to visit my friends, who conveniently live with my crush. I wasn’t sure if they’d be there, but they are and seeing them is lovely. We have the longest, comfiest cuddle which makes me feel really loved up.

I have to leave in the evening to go to the London Fetish Film Festival but before I go, they give me another really long hug. I resist telling them how I feel, or talking about wanting to go on a date together. If something is meant to happen, it will.

Sunday

I head to the kink party around 4pm. There are beautiful humans everywhere, dressed in lingerie and kink wear, with cabinets filled with toys and other devices.

Mid-kiss with an absolute cutie, I hear someone jokingly laugh and say: ‘That’s so gay.’ It feels like reclaiming the word, after all the homophobic teasing I endured as a teenager. I was just 14 when I played spin the bottle with my girl pals, and was told I was ‘enjoying myself too much.’

Later, my slot arrives for my BDSM session. The dominatrix and I talk about exploring pet play and set clear boundaries for touch. We practice safe words before the scene begins.

I crawl. I purr. I let myself be led on a leash, weaving between people. It’s sexy, yes, but it’s also transformative. By the end of the scene, I’m crying: it’s a deep, cathartic release.

I think submitting allows me to sink into my vulnerabilities and release emotions that I’ve locked away, such as feeling rejected and judged by the outside world.

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