I've been involved with the BDSM community for a few years now and there are few things that really shock me anymore, at least with this aspect. I have heard of elaborate playrooms and dungeons. Scenes that involved toasters, riding crops and a disturbing amount of produce. So imagine my surprise and delight when I heard of a mainstream novel describing a Dom/sub relationship. I thought "Oh man, this is gonna be amazing. Sexy and dark and just too good to stop reading."
Ugh. I am Jack's Lack of Surprise. The writing is actually pretty good. Comes off a little fanfictionish, but still pretty good. The plot (yes, there is one. It's not just meaningless sex for like a bajillion pages) is deep and meaningful and very poignant to an issue that is a real problem for some within this kinky community. I read it for the sex. For ideas about my bio for this freaking job. Which I still need to update on here... But this book really made me think a lot about who I was when I was going to a local sex club almost once a week. It was fun. It was painful. It was sexy. Most of all, I could let my brain shut down and become a sexy animal that lurked in the darkness. An insatiable sub that was always "Yes, Sir." and "Please, Sir." I'm sure that this might shock many, but it was me.
The rope burn mingled with the rug burn. The tender, raw flesh from the cat of nine or the paddle always ached in a way that would make me smile. Even now, I find a small smile of remembrance crossing my lips from all those nights waiting to be played with and hearing screams and the echoes of screams from the different rooms. The sex in these books was relatively vanilla compared to the steel cages and tables, the suspension play and the toys. Lord almighty, the toys. Now, I'm not talking vibrators or dildos, though there were plenty. I'm talking about mundane things like kebob skewers and pet grooming mitts. Or the one time I was blind folded and my brain was tricked into thinking my nipple was getting pierced again. It didn't in reality, but holy shit. It was a convincing mind fuck.
That's really what I loved about the scene. That's what I loved about being involved, that it was just (borrowing a phrase from the book) kinky fuckery but it was delectable mind fuckery. The way that having one word phrases and moans fall out of my mouth together instead of all this silly "talk about our feelings" crap that goes on now. "Yes", "Please", and "More" were pretty much the only words I was allowed to say, unless I really couldn't take it and had to safe word out. The amount of stories I have makes me wonder why I let myself lapse out of this lifestyle. What makes me miss it more is the desire to feel again. Feel that mind blowing, rip apart your fucking mind and soul, so intense you can't even make a sound kind of orgasm again. That orgasm where your whole body will pulse and shiver after because it feels like every single nerve in your body just came at the same time.
Now, going into working purely on the phone, it's going to be hard to find any semblance of that. What I've realized over the few days of shadowing that I did that this really is a one way street in the way of pleasure. Although I do get pleasure from taking their money. And I will every time.
With all these memories now swimming in my brain, I believe that it is time for a hot bath and bed. Bed with my boyfriend. Who is a vibrator. ;)
Until next time,
Stay sexxy!
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