Tag Archives: Dominant

Drawn to Illicit Sex

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World English Dictionary
illicit (ɪˈlɪsɪt)

— adj
1. another word for illegal
2. not approved by common custom, rule, or standard: illicit sexual relations
For the purposes of this post I am using the latter definition.

The sexual abuse I had endured as a child left me so terrified of my own sexuality and of men that it left me completely disconnected with and at times dissociated from my body.  When I finally ended up dating it was nearly all abusive men, active substance using men, and narcissistic men. It seemed strange that over and over it was the wrong guys. Bad luck I thought.

Why couldn’t I have been the girl who got asked out by some nice fellow and progressed in a slow and steady fashion within a relationship?   I’ll tell you why because I was a victim of incest at the hands of my brother and it had been going on since I was 8 and it didn’t end until I was in the middle of high school. And by then I wanted to commit suicide.

So when I grew up, I had become THAT girl. You know the one that tells my date my entire life story over a few drinks in under ten minutes and then let’s him finger fuck me underneath the table at the restaurant, while telling him as he is doing this, that I want to take things slow.

Or I have a guy friend who says he’s hoping my recovery moves more quickly because he’d like to fuck me. After a tongue lashing from me, on how I value our friendship, and that we’ve been friends for so long and he can’t do this! I climb right up on his lap, straddle him, kiss him, gently bite his nipples, rhythmically move my hips over his pelvis while my body betrays me as I get wet under my skirt all over his jeans.

Oh wait, here comes the shame again, along with guilt. Why couldn’t I have just tongue lashed him and left it there? What’s wrong with me.

After restaurant guy finger fucked me, I hid in my apartment for weeks every time he rang my buzzer. So much shame. Eventually he didn’t come around anymore, Thank God. When you couple shame and guilt, this wedding along with a lack of ability to dialogue about your emotions… You spend your life either running or hiding. Building thicker walls to keep people out so you don’t get hurt again.

My shrink says lots of incest survivors  are at higher risk for developing sexual problems and problems with setting adequate boundaries overall.  When your body is not your own as a child, because your brother has access to you 24/7 you don’t ever have a “no,” to his sexual advances. You can never escape.

As an adult it was quite an easy transition for me to slide into the world of BDSM, fetish, and kink .

I was too busy figuring out how to stay alive amidst trauma in childhood and adolescence and I never learned the healthy boundaries needed to navigate adulthood. So the cycle repeated.

I’m a walking talking paradox. I really DO want to be the girl who goes slow and have healthy boundaries AND also, I don’t. I crave that which is taboo, and sometimes I recoil from that which is taboo.

I think back to Stanley Kubrick’s film, A Clockwork Orange. If I’m wired to respond sexually in a maladaptive and deviant way for so long, what are the odds I can re-wire now? There is a saying that once a cucumber has become a pickle, it can never go back to being a cucumber again.

What if I am that pickle?

What if there is hope for all of us for redemption?


Butterfly

butterfly

I’ve got a new man in my life, “B”.

He’s different from my ex,  the sadist that captured my heart (and still does) and drew me to him like a moth to a flame.

B seems so nice and kind.  He possesses a temperate demeanor.  He continues to dote on me which I am NOT used to.  He listens when I speak.  NOT used to that either.

He buys me small gifts,  takes me out to dinner, lavishes me with affection and attention.  NOT handling that well AT all.  can’t.  Makes me feel like I will end up”owing” him somehow.   I don’t like to “owe” men shit.

****

All of this frightens me and makes me recoil inside, outside I keep up appearances and maintain my usual pleasant demeanor.

****

I feel great trepidation.  You see, men historically have kept hidden agendas with me.  There is always a “quid pro quo” thing at play.   There are always strings attached.  Sexual strings.  And I am ever wondering what B wants from me.  What price I will have to pay? What will I have to “do” in the end?  Is it real?  Is this just another illusion, mirage? another wolf in sheep’s clothing?  It’s like I am flying in a plane with faulty radar that is ill-equipped at detecting incoming missiles.   I went over B’s house and found a home-made sadistic bondage device in his basement right next to his nautilus equipment….yet he says, that he doesn’t feel the need to do BDSM things with me.   I saw his bag of tricks.  The usual stock any Dominant carries.  Basic shit:  ball gags, suspension stuff, crops, floggers, rope, chains, et cetera.

*****

I’ve done BDSM and kink.  I find it more and more difficult not to want to re-engage with him on that level sexually.  There’s this incredible passion and chemistry we have.  But what he didn’t know, is that I am NOT a submissive.   I listed that on my alt.com profile for years, because that was partly true.  There wasn’t a box that could even define what I am.  Switch, no domme/dominatrix? No.  Oh no,  I am his equal and a worthy adversary at that.      I think he thinks, that I am going to kneel before him and whatever.  Pffft.  don’t think so.   He best pray he doesn’t engage with me.   He will get the surprise of his life.  It may well be the end of me and B.    He has major control issues like all dominant’s do.  So do I.  There’s only room for one to drive this ship and it aint gonna be him LOL.

*****

Once upon a time, long ago, I was a butterfly.

In my last relationship with my ex , he tore off part of my wing, so he could keep me in his glass case and look at me anytime he wanted.   Sure it hurt, the sting of his crop and cane, his flogger, his teeth on my flesh.   All the profane things he did.  But I got used to it, because I truly believed that if I did all that, he would love me in the end.   The pain was also lessened too, because I loved him and I loved how he looked at me, how I felt like I was the center of his universe.    Time passed though, and eventually,  he saw something shiny and forgot I was in that case.  Over time, I began to wither.   Then one day he opened the jar and threw me on the grass.  My wing although injured, functioned enough for me to make it off that lawn.

*****

To be with B I feel I’ve let go of how I really am.  I keep it all inside.  He doesn’t know the authentic me.   I am just going through the motions.  Performing perfunctory actions of life as I must because I am so fucking depressed.  Allowing him to shape and mold me into whatever he wants me to become.  Just yesterday he came over and bought me shampoo and conditioner because he felt that I deserve “the best.”  I felt insulted.  “fuck you” I thought to myself, “my hair isn’t good enough for you.”   but that’s not what came out.  “thanks, thanks so much B.”  I feel choked, smothered, suffocated at times.   I feel like a trained pet for his amusement and if I slip up with the script, if I deviate a fucking millimeter, all bets are off.  Oh yeah, and he wants me to call him Daddy.   And the shit kicker is that like a well-trained chimp, I do.

*****

Falling from grace with my shrink and having her see me as…………feeling so ashamed around her.    I can’t tolerate it.  I fucking hate that feeling of burning shame.    Then also, feeling that at any given moment B is about to throw me away if I don’t do things according to his specs; people wonder why I want to run back to my ex LOL.  Sure he’s a sadist asshole, but a predictable asshole.

*****

Step right up and throw your coins down folks and she’ll dance for you…….she’ll dance the night away~


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