How is it that we’re up to “N” already? I tell you, this month is really flying past at a nearly traumatic speed!
I’m naughty. I’m also (as many people will say) nice. It’s an interesting dichotomy, and I think it is endemic of this “Naughty” lifestyle that we can be both, simultaneously, whether you’re the “Big D” or the “small s” type.
Where else can we be sweet to the person ringing up our purchases, full-on knowing that the rope, the piece of wood, the cable ties we’ve just bought will be used for naughty (I was going to write ‘nefarious’ but restrained myself!) purposes?
It’s good to be nice. The world, the interwebs, is a cesspool of meanness. Where being virtually anyone online takes away all societal niceties, and you can say anything to anyone, no matter how cutting, no care how cruel, no matter how much reading such vituperative commentary could wound a gentle spirit.
Nice is good. The world is hard, rough, full of pitfalls. It harms no one to be kind, least of all yourself. And don’t worry, I’m FAR from perfect and nice and wonderful all the time!! I’ve had my share of speaking without thinking, or responding in anger and really hurting someone’s feelings. It’s happening less now that I’m really intentional about being nice to people. Yes, even the dildo who cuts me off in traffic. *laughs* Because they’re a person in their own world. Maybe they’re rushing to the hospital because they got a call that their grandmother was found unconscious in her house. Maybe they’re unemployed and late for a meeting with a potential new employer (it happens!). Anyway, I’d rather take a moment, take a breath, and understand that they weren’t out to “get” me. And it isn’t merely altruistic of me. It’s for me, not them. It makes me more understanding, and a better person.
I’m also naughty. Verrrry naughty. I like dastardly deeds to happen to me. Like when He surprises me by having a “visitor” at a playdate. Or when I finally am “allowed” to come to the room, only to find the second bed covered in carefully laid out devices of torture. (He’s very precise like that!) It’s fear inducing (one of my turn-ons) and it’s thrilling. Being naughty in this way is part and parcel of me. The Naughty Yin to my Nice Yang, you might say.
Before I knew that it was ‘normal’ to be a deviant (oh. What an oxymoronic statement that is!) I used to worry about watching those little tidbits of porn that sprinkled the interwebs. When I would read some truly bad porn stories online, I’d think “this is almost what I like, but I really think I could write better than this”. That’s when I discovered that not only could I, but that other people enjoyed it too. That’s when I discovered that I wasn’t the only “normal” person who had these strange fetishes. Who liked to be spanked, or at least thinking about it. About being “caught” and used, about being treated like an object to be fucked and stepped over, left lying there leaking his juices while he got up and went about his business.
It’s a sickness. But wait. No.
No. No it’s not “sickness”…it’s just me.
Being naughty. And nice.
Yin to the Yang, peeps.