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Fear, Gangbusters and Vagueness FTW!

December 22nd, 2009 3 comments
More often than not, this is what we look like, these days. Doesn't that rock?

More often than not, this is what we look like, these days. Doesn't that rock?

More and more, I come here, and I stare at the blank page, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing.  I’ve got plenty of personal BDSM stuff to write about, and yet I keep it to the birds and Christmas and controversial topics like feminism and date rape.  Or the new description for Insatiable Desire.  Or sex toys.

I’m not really sure why I’m playing it so close to the vest.  Like what’s going on here is mine to keep and He won’t, at any given moment, just blab about it to someone.  Either here or on Twitter or… somewhere.

We’ve been talking.  A lot.  About so much.  And I can’t help but laugh when He has His “Aha!” moments, and they’re things I’ve been saying right along.  Just like He can’t help but bust on me when I have mine.  And we’re getting along like gangbusters.  Which is way cooler than I could ever say.  Especially considering the monthly monster reared her ugly head today.

You did, too, want to know that.  Hush.

He’s testing the waters.  Giving a push here.  A nudge there.  An all out shove over there.  And He’s watching me like a bug under a microscope to see which direction I’m going to turn.

He.  Master.  The man who owns me.

Master keeps planting little nuggets of fear.  Vaguely describing what He wants from me.  Skipping over the darkest parts.  The stuff that fear’s made of.  And He keeps poking.  Prodding.  Stabbing at open wounds.  Clawing at old scars.  Ripping barely mended flesh.  In my mind.  For that’s the part of me He’s after.  My body is just along for the ride.

I keep having to remind myself that it was only a week or so ago when He asked me if I was ready to go deeper.  And I said yes.  It was only a couple days ago when He asked me if I was ready to free fall.  And I shivered as I answered yes.

Deeper than what?

Ages ago… Long before this blog was ever even slightly popular, and when my only readers were a couple of my friends from IRC, I was in a place where not much existed.  A place I didn’t talk about much because it wasn’t accepted in the circles we ran.  There was Master and sex and pain and humiliation and Master.  And He would dunk my head under, let me go and I’d come up sputtering.  Only to be dunked again.  Read more…

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