Compartments
Before I started dating J, I went "hunting" a lot. Often, I didn't begin the night with that as my intention; it's not like I went out and planned to spend my night looking for someone to bang. That's just what I ended up doing. (Well, along with socializing and drinking and all that other stuff one does at a party.) I noticed as much after I started going out with J, and thus had a consistent sexual partner, and thus didn't need to go looking for people to have sex with anymore. The first week or so after we started going out, I'd be at my frat, or at a party, beginning to scope people out, and then remembering - wait, I don't actually need to do this anymore. I can just hang out with people normally. What a relief!
... Or maybe not a relief. I began thinking a little more about the relationship between my sexuality and how I interact with people. If you're a long time reader, you'll remember my discussing how sex is never "just" sex to me. While I don't always attribute love to it, I do attribute many other things to it; may it be emotional connection, or attention, or a self-esteem boost. Conversely, many things lead me to think of sex; perhaps uncommon things. I must have reached a certain point where sex became just another way of getting to know someone. There have definitely been times where I've been getting to know someone new, socially or at work or anything, and I was enjoying getting to know them, and I'd randomly wonder what it would be like to have sex with them. Just a passing curiosity, you understand, I might not really want to have sex with them or even be attracted to them. I'd just wonder because maybe it would tell me something more about them.
J has remarked before that it sounds like I mix up sex and intimacy a lot, when sometimes they're actually mutually exclusive. Some close friends have also remarked that I mix up friendship and love, or friendship and sex. Friendship, romance, and sex are all kind of blurry to me. I see moving from one to another just like shifting gears, or viewing the same thing through a different lens. They're all the same matter, but just have different forms. I mean, it's not like I think that I could love or want sex with all of my friends. Sometimes the possibility just isn't there. But when it is, moving from one to another isn't really very difficult for me. I never found much of a problem with it. Many people I know have clear boundaries between each thing (friend, fuckbuddy, significant other) but I didn't really ever set those boundaries in place. So what happened was everything just kind of... spilled into each other. And so I ended up having sex with many of my closest friends; having undefined sexual/romantic relationships; hooking up with someone and then becoming friends with them; or breaking up with a boyfriend but continuing to sleep with him for a while after that.
I think that blurry view is changing now.
Click on "continue reading" on the bottom right to read more.
Stress
Remember AR? This new person I've been getting to know at Zeta Mu?
He has spent the last week or so ignoring me. Or, well, at least being very distant and dismissive towards me. He talks to me if I talk to him, but compared to the cordiality we had a couple weeks ago, long late night conversations, and him being warm and greeting me whenever he saw me, this is definitely a drastic change.
I've been obsessing over this for the whole week, trying to figure out what happened, if anything.
I know, I know. I'm probably just wasting my time. Or worrying over nothing. The Professional was being really distant with me at one point and it had nothing to do with me. I'm aware that people have lives and all...
... but still, I'm pretty convinced that this is something unique to me since he's acting pretty much normally around everyone else.
It could be any number of things. I don't know him well enough to guess.
Since it happened right after we hooked up, it could be because he "got what he wanted" from me and then decided I wasn't worth his attention anymore.
Or maybe he feels awkward about it; regrets it.
Or maybe he actually really likes me but is trying to "play it cool" because that's what everyone else does here.
Maybe he's trying to be an asshole because he thinks that will make me more into him (well, I suppose it's working)...
Also, his (now ex) gf recently graduated. Maybe he was just using me to get over her and then realized that it didn't work.
Actually, after we hooked up I started being unnecessarily affectionate/touchy with him - not inappropriately so, but definitely more than before, maybe he didn't like that I was being too clingy.
And, I sent him a random angry email when I got drunk one night. Even though I apologized for it after, and I didn't even say anything specific about him, I was just venting about other stuff, he probably got upset by it or thinks I'm a crazy bitch by now.
And, a few days after we had hooked up, I went ahead and hooked up with the Professional. I'm pretty sure he saw us flirting in Zeta Mu's basement. Maybe he was hurt by that? But I don't even know how serious he was being about me. I'm so used to people here hooking up casually that I don't expect anyone to take things seriously anymore. Plus, just because I hooked up with someone else doesn't mean I'm not into him. I just don't see why I have to stop hooking up with other people when I find someone new to sleep with. And it's not like we even had sex more than once! ...Or even had penetrative sex, for that matter! Or are committed to each other in any way...
Maybe I'm being too greedy?
I mean, clearly I do like him, otherwise I wouldn't be stressing over this so much.
Why do I always fuck things up?
...Maybe I should just talk to the guy.
Glimmer
There are some people I know who have this special ability to make me feel really good about myself when I'm around them.
I think it's a certain kind of charisma. The Emperor had it. I'm getting to know a certain person better (who I'll call AR for now) at Zeta Mu, and he has it too. He's a pretty big guy, a total sweetheart, very positive and good at commanding attention. That doesn't really sound very special, I know, but there's just something about his laugh, his energy, and the completely un-self-conscious way he talks and moves...
I've known of him for quite a while now but we've only just started getting to know more about each other. A couple nights ago I was in his room and we were being quite affectionate - cuddling, my feet draped over his lap. At one point he started giving me a foot rub, which was so cute, and which I really appreciated. (OK, clearly, he was hitting on me as well and we hooked up soon after that night, but that's besides the point.)
I just really liked talking to him, I liked having his attention focused on me, I liked how I felt with him paying attention to me. And sure, attention is always good, you might say, but it's different, still different with people like AR and the Emperor.
And then yesterday, I was not in a very good mood. Most of my night had gone very well, and I had been happy - until I hooked up with the Professional. Which also was going well, until he went soft for no apparent reason (clearly I started to worry about whether it had something to do with me, while trying to quash those thoughts at the same time) and he also didn't want to spend the night (I already knew he doesn't like sharing the bed with people, but still, cuddling in the afterglow is one of my favorite parts of sex, it's so reassuring, and going without was slightly disappointing).
AR lives in one of the more social rooms, so I threw on some clothes and went to see if him and other people were still hanging out. He was on the couch having a very involved conversation with one of his female friends, so I stayed for a little bit and then left.
A while ago, this would have made me way more upset and jealous... that said, I was still upset. Glancing at them talking and him being so intent on it, and thinking that I was in that position not too long ago, and wanting to be in her place again, and wondering if he was interested in her too (but I don't like him that way so why should I care?)... Yeah, I just did not feel good.
The best way I can think of to explain just how it feels to engage with people like AR and the Emperor is to compare it to being in sunlight... when the sun is shining on you you feel warm and good all over, everything seems just a little bit better, and when sunlight isn't shining on you anymore you feel bleak and want it to come back.
(You probably have people like that in your lives too, right...?)
Object of Desire
[Image from The Sandman. Click here to view full comic page.]
Kissing the Professional is akin to eating fried pork intestines. It tastes good, and you draw a large amount of satisfaction from it, but there's an undertone of dirty wrongness about it that prevents you from enjoying it the way you would, say, the delicate deliciousness of a chocolate truffle.
You linger in his room after everyone else left, and he invites you to sit on the bed with him, "where it's more comfortable." When you do, you lay next to each other companionably for a while before he reaches over and pulls you on top of him.
"Sorry about that," he says, smiling behind his beard ("beard" is too unctuous a word, but if there's a camp-er word for "beard", you definitely don't know it). "You were just too far away from me and I needed you to be here" - he hugs you to him tightly - "right away."
When you kiss, you don't know what to do with his body. "What do you want?" he asks you, and he has his hand in your panties and instead of saying "I want us to 69 and then I want to fuck you in the ass with your dildo," you decide to take things one step at a time and say, "well... um... you could... perhaps penetrate me", meaning with his fingers, but he misunderstands, and smirks, and says, "Right. I'm going to fuck you," and gives you such a smoldering look that you're too embarrassed to correct him.
When you fuck, you retreat into yourself, suddenly shy. You'd already ridden out your drunkenness and so are no longer bold. He enters you from behind, the two of you kneeling, and his hands cup your breasts and move down your body, urgently, like his hands were meant to cruise all over your skin. You feed off of his pants and jerky body movements, feeling like you're being worshiped, feeling like this is worship. There has to be something spiritual, religious, even, about all of this concentrated attention.
You end up on your hands and knees, and your body feels nothing except red hot shards of pleasure at your core. He grunts. Swears. Comes. You don't. But you revel in the fact that you've reduced this articulate, overly-intellectual person to one word: fuck.
Time for sleep. He rolls away from you, turns out the lamp, says you can feel free to stay. Not that he wants you to; but that you can feel free to. He plays classical music on his iPhone.
You close your eyes. Afterward, you'll look back on that moment as the moment that he lost interest. But, for a few minutes at least, nothing else existed for him except you; and your quota for... whatever it is, was filled a little more.
---
One week later, the Actor has wrenched your legs open uncomfortably wide, and is sitting in between them, brandishing a vibrator at you. You are, to say the least, extremely annoyed. You keep grumbling at him to stop it. Eventually he gets annoyed at your annoyance and stops; offended that you don't want him. Well, Christ, you want him, you just don't want him to treat you like this.
You've lost track of how many times you've had this very one-sided discussion: "Don't treat my body like a plaything; haven't you heard of foreplay; please treat this a bit more seriously; I feel like you don't care whether you turn me on or not; I don't know why you want to do this with me anyway because you're not attracted to me; getting to touch me that way is a privilege so treat me with a goddamn bit of reverence!"
You know that he's merely curious, and doing these things with you is fascinating for him, but everyone deserves to be touched with respect. Well, maybe reverence is pushing it just a little.
The Actor doesn't heed your requests until he catches you complaining about him on GTalk to Girl. (That probably was an unfair thing for you to do.) First he's angry, then he's upset because he actually feels guilty, then he's simply sorry. You fall asleep twined around each other, and the next day he takes more care not to upset you, and you're happy.
Some ruminations on roles
Having more experiences with different lovers, researching a bit more about BDSM on Fetlife and starting Jay Wiseman's "SM 101" has lead me to start thinking about my (very, very slowly) emerging BDSM identity, again. Granted, labels are only of a very basic use here; in fact I'm highly tempted to conclude that my identity in regards to BDSM will continue to be in flux and fluid.
I'm always slightly bemused by the large number of people (close friends and acquaintances) who have me clearly pegged as dominant. It's not like people's opinions necessarily have any bearing on reality, but it's still interesting to make a note of them.
If I were to be most truthful, I'd have to declare myself as either a switch, or unsure. In my head, though, I'm most inclined to think of myself as a Domme rather than a switch or a submissive - yet the amount of time I spend in a dominant role during sex is probably only a tiny percentage. I suppose I just want to become that in a more permanent way, in contrast to the other roles/identities.
Lots of things stand in the way of me growing into a Domme identity, or make me hesitate to claim that identity outright. I'm a pretty insecure person. I second guess myself a lot. I'm easily embarrassed. I'm almost never able to bring myself to do something to a person that they might not want or that might be humiliating for them, or "force" them to do something that I want. I have a hard time expressing my desires and asking for things. Sometimes I'm not even sure what my desires are. Most of the time I can't even approach people I'm attracted to unless I'm fairly certain that the feeling is mutual. All of those things don't seem to be good domly qualities, even though I know that all sorts of people can be dominants, that dominants can be insecure, and that people can be very different in the bedroom than out of it.
But then there are times that I get a crystal clear picture in my head of what I want to do to someone. When those urges hit me, it's like an ecstatic rush to the head. I become so stuck on the idea that I can hardly think about anything else. I remember that one night all I wanted was to walk up to Girl and interrupt whatever she was doing by kissing her hard; and another night when I desperately wanted to 69 with the Professional, then bend him over and fuck him roughly in the ass until his orgasm came gasping and screaming out of him.
Whether or not I act on what I feel is another issue entirely. I very rarely do.
Sure, I've topped or bordered-on-dominated people before. Godamnit, I belted the Emperor in front of a huge roomful of people, and I've cuffed K to his bedpost and then breast-tortured him. The thing is that those ideas were fully theirs. I enjoyed the fuck out of it, but I was still the one following orders, so to speak. Most of the time, my wants or fantasies actually center around what a partner has already told me that they want done to them. It's almost as if I'm too afraid to even think beyond those things. My biggest fear when I want to do something to someone is what if the other person doesn't want that too?
In spite of all this, I've found that a few things that bring out the Domme side of me. The first thing is trust; when I'm so close to someone that I know they'll accept me no matter what seemingly bizarre desire I confide to them.
The second thing is brattiness. Mostly in hot, bitchy women. There was this girl in my fraternity who stands out in my mind very clearly. She was blond, slim, gorgeous, and perfect - like a doll. She'd act all cutesy and then turn right around and bitch you out from behind a serpentine smile. I can't remember how many times I wanted to grab her thick, blond hair in fistfulls, smudge her lipglossed smile off her face, and fuck her so hard that by the end of it she'd be boneless in my arms.
(Yeah, that obviously never happened. She's straight not to mention taken.)
The third thing is alcohol. Yeah... drunk dominance sounds like a horrible idea. Alcohol just knocks down the walls of my inhibitions like nothing else.
And while I have issues with dominance, I don't claim submissive or switch because... well. Let me put it this way. I want to be spanked, bound, scratched, roughed up, immobilized, and used. The first time I was tied up, in a completely non-sexual context might I add, I coasted down into sub/bottomspace so quickly it was like magic: I was fortunate enough to attend a bondage workshop given by Dov, and the night afterwards one of my fellow frat members wanted to practice tying a chest harness on me, so I let him. While he was binding me, I became very quiet and still, looking down at my shoes. Once my wrists were cinched securely behind my back, and pulled tightly upwards towards my shoulder blades due to the shortness of the rope he was using, I found myself in a secure, calm, comforting, almost Zen-like state. I stayed like that for a while. Then someone offered to untie me, and I reluctantly let them.
My point is, while I want all of that (and more), I'm not exactly very... submissive, per se. Case in point, when the Professional was spanking me, I lay face down on the bed for him, I immobilized my arms for him, I took every one of his swats without trying to escape, but when he tried to verbally embarrass or humiliate me, I didn't have any of it. I gave him snark and sass and started baiting him right back. In fact, if someone tried to sneer at me and call me their slut, I can see myself responding not obediently, but with an empathic "fuck you!"
One thing I can say for sure though (this is starting to turn into a rambly laundry list... forgive me) is that I'm definitely very comfortable in my bottom identity (clearly) and my top identity. God, I love topping people. Learning what turns them on and leaving them gasping for more, teasing and pleasuring and hurting and pushing them to sensory heights they've never felt before, playing their bodies like an instrument, knowing just the right buttons to press and the right way to fuck with their heads... it's quite wonderful.
My sexuality seems like it just continues to grow in different ways, and I'm excited to see what I'll find out next. Hopefully I'll find dominants who are empathetic, conscientious and strong enough for me to really feel their control (an interesting note: up until now the best dominance I've received has been from people who identify as submissive, i.e. the Emperor and the Professional), and submissives who I trust and whose psyches I can sink deeply into.
HNT: Spanked
WOW. I'm posting this the earliest I've ever posted any HNT... but I'm really excited about posting it. It's not the most creative I've done - in fact it's probably the quickest one I've taken - but personally I think it's pretty sweet.

Last weekend, I got spanked for the first time.
If you've been keeping up with my blog/Twitter/anything, you'd know about how long I waited for this to happen.
"Lay down on your stomach," he said.
I was surprised - mostly because I thought he was submissive. I knew he liked me a very long time ago, but never acted on it. I wasn't sure how I felt about him. But tonight, I was sure.
I lay down, naked, on my stomach, with my face in my pillow. I wondered what he was going to do. The only two men who I'd trusted enough to confess my spanking fetish to, without being embarrassed, had failed miserably when they had attempted to inflict pain on me. And this man, who was primarily submissive...
Crack.
He was using my plastic, cheap Bank of America ruler on me. He taunted me as he did, calling my ass too white, trying to find excuses to punish me, asking me about my experiences with D/s. In fact, he was taking a lot of ideas from me, when I had dommed him just ten minutes before.
He varied his pace, landing several on me at a time, or taking it slow and tantalizingly, giving me time to catch my breath and let it sink in between strokes. My ass hurt but I still knew I could take so much more. I gasped, panted, and cried. He scolded me when I moved my hands from in front of me, so I crossed them underneath me instead.
Then he asked me to lay across his lap, and spent several minutes working me with his hand.
I fell into kink-love. He was the antithesis, physically, of what I was typically attracted to, but the things he wanted to do to me, and the things I wanted to do to him... it was a match made in heaven.
When I woke up the next day, I saw that numerous pieces had snapped off of the ruler while he was using it on me, and now lay across the floor.
The day after that, I had a small red blush across my ass where he'd hit me. It stung when I sat down, or when my backpack pressed against the spot.
It felt wonderful.
The day after that, a bruise began to form, and I stared at it, fascinated, in my bathroom mirror.
Please. Give me more bruises.




















