Working tonight, thinking about M, my family, my life…wondering for the billionth time why this lifestyle draws me, compels me so much. It’s more than just the lack of sex in my vanilla life. (And by “lack” I mean a decade plus of total non-sex with my spouse.)
And since I’m not having wild sexual encounters with M every few weeks–we’re lucky to have playtime 3 or 4 times a year at this point in time, due to my schedule mostly–so it’s not the sex that is the full draw here.
I read some blogs today, Kaya in case you haven’t visited there, and some others. And found myself all hot and bothered, just as I do any other time I go to those sites.
I don’t have the answer to that, really. I have some thoughts, but the initial attraction should have waned after 7 plus years, right? After I tried having “deviant sex” shouldn’t my questions, my longings have been answered? After being tied up and beaten and fucked until I thought I’d die of it…why didn’t that “cure” me?
Do I want to be ‘cured’?
I’m pretty happy with who I am overall, those fucking 10 pounds be damned! But this whole ‘sick fuck’ as I have self-labeled myself…it wasn’t something that I fret over, mind you. I was just curious is all.
And it’s even more than He’s controlling. It’s more than I do His bidding, because while that’s a small part of my vanilla life, His domination is way more during playtime than in trying to make me bend my impossible vanilla life to suit His desires.
And it isn’t His desire to do that.
So there I am at my mundane evening job, which I love, and the quiet and solace of being totally alone just was a balm to me tonight for whatever reason…and this thought pops into my head.
My life is sweet.
No, really. It’s filled with sweet children that I’m home with except for this evening gig of mine, virtually 24/7. My spouse though annoying at times, also sweet. I have a sweet house, sweet neighbors, sweet though simple lifestyle, and sweet simple pleasures.
It’s very sweet.
But as much as I like sweet–I’m also a fan of spicy. If I’m eating M*M’s…there’s got to be something to cut the sweet after a while.
The whole thing about BDSM is that it’s NOT sweet. It’s dirty. It’s dark. It can be shameful, and nasty and degrading, and painful, and sticky…the dark underside of vanilla sex. It’s candle wax on tender flesh, and ropes biting, and clamps gripping, and cocks slamming, and mouths drooling.
It’s NOT sweet. Not saccharine. Not tender.
Oh sure, there are tender moments–those of us who engage in the play also get those aftercare bits..the hugs, the caresses, the whispered “I love you”‘s…but those are tenderness to help remind us (on both sides of the slash) that we’re also caring humans, as well as being capable of delivering great pain, or taking it (needing it, craving it). We come back to one another with that gentle touch…a tear-stained cheek resting on a shoulder, a hard, strong hand cupping a breast, legs interlocked, lips caressing…to reaffirm that we’re not bad or evil or sick, not really.
We just have this side of us that needs the dark to balance the blinding whiteness of our lives. We need the pain to take away our stresses from living as “the perfect person” or need to give it for the same reason.
We’re not perfect people. We pretend to be, it’s sought from us, by family, by employers, hell, even by ourselves! But I think those of us who do this thing we do are more in touch with our “whole” selves…the dark and the light, the good and the not so good, the need to smooth everything out vs the need to roughen it all up.
We’re in balance because of this wicked thing we do, the thing that many in Polite Society would shame us for.
But fuck us! We’ve really got the right of this, don’t we?! I think so. We struggle (for those of us who blog, publicly struggle), we whimper, we whine, we pull our shit together and move forward. Always moving forward. We get good stuff we get bad stuff we get through it.
Because being open to the darkness in ourselves gives us more assurance than I think we often give ourselves credit for. An ability to speak even in vanilla life, with more thoughtful clarity than ever before. To be more cautious of our tones, the subtle messages we can send, because we dare not speak that way to our Tops, right? I know I’ve found myself holding back at times and reconsidering my words before I spoke them..an impulse I’d have never curbed 7 years ago.
So — being open, being nilla, being accepting of myself as a submissive, and letting the dark run wild?
Has really set me free. And that, dear pervie peeps, is the allure of BDSM for this naughty, dark minded, horny, unapologetic slut.