I’ll have a vanilla latte with a shot of kink, please.

I’m sat in a shabby train station cafe, admittedly buying overpriced coffee to justify being a wifi parasite. I’d bookmarked Kate Sloans’s most recent blog post on my list of things to read, partly because her blogging is incredible, thought provoking and grounded, but also because the title appealed to one of my inner conflicts- which I have as of yet been unable to reconcile. It made me think, which made me write. It’s one of the more personal of my posts.

I have a few kinks. I am submissive, quite often I am filthy and like handprints or various implement shaped bruises left on my arse after I’m fucked. Sometimes I’m (accidentally) violent and sit on someone’s face until I orgasm, with my movements causing their lip to burst- not a proud moment. I should point out my kink there is being told to ‘be a good girl and sit on my face until you orgasm’ not drawing blood… Sometimes I have particularly vivid afternoon wanks which result me in fantasising about being humiliated  and used infront of a room full of strangers. Okay, so maybe more than a few!


Let’s talk about some life experience.

My first relationship began when I was young(er than I am now, I’m only 25!), with an older person (and no, this is nothing to do with my Dad). It was bad. Many lines were crossed. The few I’ve spoken to about it realise how awful it must have been. And yes, it was. But it taught me my most important lessons on self esteem, consent and how great and important is to talk and express yourself to those you feel comfortable communicating with about your sexuality, interests, fantasies and kinks. Since then I have tried to explore these, and have very much enjoyed doing so. This culminated in the start of my blogging and tweeting.

I have also been fortunate enough to have had two wonderful, important romantic relationships so far in my handful of years. These were both incredible; I was enveloped in friendship, love, plans for the future, in one occasion even vague wedding plans and wishes. I’m still incredibly close with my high school sweetheart’s family, who often invite me around over the festive period and have adopted me as their daughter-in-law-in-kind, if there is even such a thing. In these relationships I had the most vanilla sex imaginable, and I had a very fulfilled and happy sex life.
I have yet to reconcile these two parts of me.

I developed a persona. It has been under this persona I felt more comfortable voicing my kinks, interests and exploring my limits, and this has carried on as an important part of me since then. It isn’t a different person or a front, more so a distinct defined part of my overall personality. These are all feelings, wishes, desires that I wish to explore and experience as me, not someone completely different. I had just never found the right outlet. I’ve had many relationships, whether casual, short term or on a more ongoing basis, in which I’ve wanted my mouth to be thoroughly exploited and fucked, or be pissed on in a hotel shower. I sometimes like to fuck guys with a strap-on until they cry with pleasure (okay, this only happened once, but might make myself a medal). I like guys to grip me until I’m bruised, and call me names I could never utter. I like to do things to please dominating, assertive and authoritative men (in certain well communicated and mutually understood scenarios only, may I add!).

I’ve never managed to make the transition into my romantic, ‘day-to-day’ relationships. I did try, relatively recently, but I found it increasingly hard to work out whether today will be pjs, baking and subjecting them to episodes of awful radio programmes, or whether I’m going to be bent over a table, having my pants stuffed into my mouth and being beaten with the back of my hairbrush. It quickly spiralled, power got to their head and they’d use this side of me to try and control other aspects of my life. I can hold my hands up and admit this is likely due to a relative lack of experience, or lack of maturity on my part (although I often feel comfortable in who I am, what I am doing and what I want to do- I feel there is a limit, and a certain level of maturity does just come with time). And although I am self aware and feel I can communicate effectively, it is more than likely a lack of understanding of what I wanted, what they wanted and this culminated in an unenjoyable situation- which effectively ended the relationship.

I have a couple of friends who I see on occasion where I am comfortable to explores my numerous complex kinks. I spend a lot of our time together with that twisted knot in my stomach waiting for them to say something, do something- whether look at me in a certain way, or touch me in a certain place- which both tightens the knot and makes my mind melt into submission. This is based on our prior meetings, messages, phone calls, emails, pictures- which are open, honest and most often completely filthy. I know exactly what they want to do to me, and what they get off on. Similarly they know my weaknesses, my desires and quite often the taboo, hidden fantasies we have both spoken about playing out. This is all consuming, and I adore this outlet as well as the people involved, and hold absolute respect for them as my friends.

Maybe that is it. There is no lightbulb moment, or perfect situation for me. Maybe I have reconciled the balance in my head, until further experience prompts a change in stance. Perhaps the various kinks are almost too all-consuming and it makes this incompatible for my ideals of a romantic relationship- in an all or nothing sense. Occasional spanking, hair pulling and hands over my mouth are great but that’s the tip of a complex, ever growing iceberg. Perhaps I’m too guarded for the moment to allow my kinks to enter any other sphere of my life, and I think I’m okay with this. Maybe in time, with the right person, this might change. I appreciated Girly Juice’s last sentiment, of acknowledging that sometimes what you and they want may be different. I feel, in the aforementioned relationship which ended due to an incompatible balance between the two, that communication as to why it doesn’t work is just as vital as the communication in which I explain to a partner to maybe ‘pull my hair, yeah like that… No you’re fine it’s not hurting… More is fine, good even…. No I promise it doe
sn’t hurt… Okay maybe a little but I kinda like it ..’

I am different to every single person on this planet, I am unique and what works for others may not work for me. And that’s pretty awesome.

I’d like to thank Kate Sloan for another fantastically, thought provoking post which upon reflection and thought has helped me understand myself a little more too.

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