Some of us are fortunate enough to have fond memories of the idyllic childhood that they were blessed with while others barely have any memories at all aside from ones filled with extreme violence or sadness, or conversations or exposures that somehow imprinted themselves onto our very impressionable minds and still follow us even now. I am the latter.
Don’t worry this writing isn’t going to be just another whiny bitch fest about how Mommy didn’t hug me enough or Stepdaddy touched me in the naughty place so that’s why I’m as fucked up as a soup sandwich because quite frankly no matter how much truth may be in that statement, bitching about it now doesn’t accomplish anything and I’ve worked through all the wounded child stuff in therapy anyway.
And besides, the fucked up part of me that’s left is a helluva lot of fun to play with these days.
So when people ask about the things I really enjoy if I’m truly interested in having them stick around I can’t help but be a bit reluctant to share the whole truth, because past experience has shown me that most people immediately fold and walk away from the table, often before we’ve met face to face and in spite of how well the conversation between us might have been going. The same thing also happens when I share this blog in advance so I’ve stopped doing that altogether unless the intent is to actually make someone lose interest, OR unless I really, really want them to see me and I’m rolling the dice and hoping they will stick around.
When I describe myself with complete transparency I tell my potential suitors that I am like Dexter, in a dress. Minus the killing, of course. I am methodical. I am calculating. I study my partner and learn their every trigger whether it be the kind that scares the bejesus out of them or makes them putty in my hands. I make it my job to learn exactly what kind of ride is the drug of choice for my beloved and I become their dealer.
In turn, I become just as much of an addict and not having access to my drug of desire becomes a most delightfully torturous physical as well as mental ache.
Over the years I have come into my own and have become very skilled at dancing in the darkness even though the reality is that I have about as much rhythm as Elaine from Seinfeld. If I could have given birth to you then there’s a good chance you have no clue what that reference means unless you caught the reruns on Comedy Central but let’s just say she never won any dance contests. In the dark however is where I am most alive, when I am with a willing partner I become a sleek, cold, bloodthirsty predator. One whose arousal increases as she instills fear and inflicts pain on her captive prey. When that flip is switched I’ve been told that my face changes and my eyes flash with a cold detachment even though I still convey amusement and typically carry a sly smile.
A while back I heard the phrase “clit-centric” and it very much describes my nature. You would think at the age of almost 56 years old that my sexual drive would be slowing down yet I have stronger desires these days with no sign of diminishing. When I am with a partner I love nothing more than to have some sort of physical connection on a daily basis, with my satisfaction being paramount. Extended teasing and denial is a favorite game and I adore pegging to the point of anal orgasms. One of the things I would really like to explore in the future is Tantra and I also want to get back into hypnosis once I’ve entered into a dedicated relationship again. The thought of being able to suddenly elicit a spontaneous and knee buckling orgasm from my partner while standing in the middle of a crowded dinner party simply by whispering the word “conundrum” in a particularly salacious manner is wildly entertaining to me.
All of that being said, I suppose to most this would read as very self centered on my behalf. But before anyone jumps to any conclusions I want you to understand that in all of this what matters to me MOST is my partner’s happiness and satisfaction. Their experience. Them reaching their own personal Nirvana, whatever that might mean.
To one, that might be subspace. To another, that might mean full body orgasms. To someone else, a sense of connection and belonging. It is my job as a partner and lover to find meaning behind and within all of this and to use everything I’ve learned over the last 37 years in the lifestyle to make sure that they feel safe, secure and valued no matter how extreme the acts themselves may become. I will hurt you, I will never harm you.
It took me a long time to reconcile my sadistic nature with my empathic side. It made absolutely no sense to me how I could love someone deeply yet harbor such intense desires to have them taste their own blood on my lips as they kiss me. I would literally beat my beloved until their eyes were rolling into the back of their head and then drag their body onto my bed and tenderly cuddle them and purr how proud of them I was as I stroked their hair and they slowly came back to me….
And then we would have incredibly hot, passionate, animalistic sex that left us both sweaty and satiated.
I’ll admit it takes a special kind of man to be able to navigate the waters I swim in. My heart has an endless capacity to love, but has never been able to completely trust. From childhood I was taught that even those who were supposed to hold you most dear were capable of betrayal if it served their own agenda and so I’ve never had the luxury of being able to free fall into the arms of another knowing that I was safe and taken care of. As a result, I have spent my entire lifetime loving those within my heart deeply and without reservation or judgement but not once have I ever given anyone the opportunity to love me in kind.
I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be able to trust someone so implicitly that I could occasionally set my armor down and simply be. From the time I was a pre-teen up until now I’ve always been the strong, reliable, resilient one. I have only ever been able to be bits and pieces of myself in my relationships; I have never truly been able to simply be me. The thought of finding someone who is able to appreciate everything that I am as opposed to simply the parts that appeal to their particular desires makes tears fall down my face as I write this.
As a 20 year old I saw the movie Labyrinth and the Goblin King played by David Bowie told his protagonist Sara “I ask for so little. Just let me rule you and you can have everything you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.” This scene has always resonated with me because even though I am the one wearing the bitchy boots and therefore the designated D I am always in charge whether it be within scene or my day to day. I am a slave to my own obligations and high standards even if those around me do not reciprocate. Loneliness has been my almost constant companion over these last few years and at times she’s done her best to turn my aching heart bitter, but instead I’ve chosen to work on self. Peace has replaced turmoil. Patience is a newfound friend.
I have no idea what the future may hold for me but I know it isn’t filled with all things vanilla and watching myself deteriorate from boredom. And perhaps instead of relinquishing my armor, maybe one day I will know what it is like to be loved so completely that I feel comfortable enough to set it aside and simply be…even if only for a moment.