As I have shared so many times, subtlety is not my kink or strength. I can do obscure, but then just like if I'm not talking to you, I will find myself unable to resist explaining the reference. Still, I am better at obscure than I am at subtle. Also please note, it really is a gift if I take the time to tell you I am not talking to you. It does mean that I still intend to talk to you again.
Perhaps I'm better at subtle than I think.
No, you're right, it needs more work.
Some of my readers read between the lines, most missed it. A client nearly wet himself when he put it together. Wait, why are your nails red? Then he proposed, and I referred him to my real estate agent. Go ahead, shoot your shot foot boy.
Things change.
Or they don't, and that's unfortunate too.
I'm packing for a little spa vacay with my Most Vanilla Friend. Yes, another one. Here you should hear Sheila E taunting... it gets kind of rough in the back of our limousine.
During our last little getaway to that delightful cottage by the lake, in the Blueberry Moose state, I found myself trying to explain what I get out of my dynamic. Trying to identify what need of mine it meets
It's a challenging question to answer no matter who asks. I think we would all agree a D/s dynamic is by definition, alternative. Mine is unconventional even by the standards of our alt community.
The moon up above it shines down upon our skin, whispering words that scream of outrageous sin, we all want the stuff that's found in our wildest dreams...
Do we? Do you? Wildest? For real, because my wildest is rather intense. Consider where my baseline is set. Sometimes my wildest is fucking terrifying.
Did I mention my most vanilla BFF is a therapist? It's important to me that if I explain at all, that I explain it well. If she were to think that I have Stockholm syndrome, I want her to know that my inoculation was intentional and with enthusiastic consent.
It isn't just the endorphin rush of a high-risk behavior. It isn't only the flood of dopamine when a complex goal is satisfactorily met or the little bump when a small, routine one is checked off. It isn't only that I am a standard issue gen X girl model, with abandonment issues who just wants to find meaning in any of this nonsense that is the human experience.
For quite some time I've had a note to myself pinned in my inbox. A reminder that I had an idea to explore how sadomasochistic play echoes my birth experiences. Not in the obvious ways, and not through a lens of breeding kink, but the hormone-driven, extreme emotional experience of each. How in even the most carefully, thoughtfully, informed based plans will still likely give way to moments of extreme vulnerability, humiliation, terrifying fear, indescribable excruciating pain and then most of us, fall deeper in love than we've ever experienced.
So I suppose it's the oxytocin. And not the polite serving size one gets when they slip on a fuzzy sweater. I need transformative, alchemic level doses. It doesn't matter if it's terrifying, I wish to experience, to really master, acceptance and unconditional love.
And I don't wish to be bored, not even for a moment.
