Thursday, January 20, 2011


I’ve been talking with a man that I met on a kink dating website for about a month now, and we met up recently. He’s been a perfect gentleman, which is a refreshing change from how others approach me, vanilla or not. He’s also been very respectful, even when we’ve been discussing our non-vanilla interests. I’ve been spending some time lately thinking more about my interests and limits, hoping they’d mesh well with his interests. What are the things that I really won’t do? I thought I had it covered. No feces, urine, or blood play, which is pretty commonplace. Those were my hard limits. There are other things that I’m not really interested in, but probably could be persuaded to engage in, with the right time, training, and atmosphere. There are also probably loads of things people can do that I’m just wholly unaware about, and the more time I spend educating myself and talking to others, the more my eyes are opened to the variety of this world.

I’ve been spending time finding some blogs that I could relate to, written by people like me. This was really hard for me initially; which is part of the reason I started writing here. I’d been lurking around for months before I actually set fingers to the keyboard. Since then, I’ve actually come across a few that I thought were well written and introspective. I like reading the thoughts of other people that are going through a similar experience, rather than a manual or other books; it’s more real to me. Recently, I saw a post from Intelligent Submission that I found fascinating.

Needle play.

What caught my eye initially was the photograph. I had such an internally violent, stomach flipping reaction that it surprised me. When confronted with the idea of fecal play, though I find it utterly disgusting, repulsive, and in no way would I ever want participate in such activities, I don’t feel like a sense of wrong is visibly fighting its way through my body.

Admittedly, I have a bit of a needle phobia, but I thought I had taken good measures to lessen it. When I was younger, there was one occasion where it took four nurses to forcibly hold me down just to get an injection. Over time, I was able to control my reactions. I would sit relatively calmly and allow bloodwork to be done, though I was freaking out internally. I’ve gotten better. Currently, I am even a regular blood donor. Since my blood type is O negative, they call me a lot in times of need. I even got my ears pierced. I’ve got two holes in each earlobe, plus a cartilage piercing in my right ear. I thought the cartilage piercing would help me overcome this phobia tremendously. I reasoned that if I could willingly allow myself to be pierced with needles, for something recreational and not medical, I would get over it. My next and ultimate step was to get a tattoo, which I’ve done. I’d thought about getting a tattoo for ages, but not only as a tool for overcoming my phobia. I had an idea that I sat on for a good three years before I went ahead and put it on my body. After getting the tattoo, I felt my confidence soar! I definitely felt that my fear was over, and I’ll probably get another one, soon even. After seeing that image, however, I realize that I’ve not come as far as I thought, and I’m not sure I would be willing to go further.

I’m not sure if it’s solely the idea of having the nipple pierced that gets to me. Though I don’t think I would do it, simply looking at nipple piercings does not evoke a knee-jerk reaction in me. It’s actually seeing the pointed ends. I’ve also seen other images where the needles are not sticking out, but I still have those same fearful feelings. Seeing a closed round piercing, or even the ball ended piercings doesn’t evoke the same reaction. It’s the needles themselves.

I have such respect and admiration for the strength and trust that it must have taken for Melissa to willingly have this experience. I can’t currently imagine being in a place where I could do the same, and I’m not sure it’s something I would ever want to confront.


  1. Nipple piercing? [she shivers] I could hardly stand to read your references to it. And I get regular allergy shots. Two shots every week.

    I'm glad the sadist wouldn't want me to get any piercings, because knowing his effect on me he would slowly bring me to the point where I would be begging for it.

    What I have found, though, is that what I thought were hard limits can be dissolved. I think it's not so much a question of how long you've been at it as the person you are with and the nature of the relationship. I think that if the sadist forced me, I would dig my feet in. Instead, he cultivates me, prepares me, plants these little seeds until I want things I don't want at all.

    Like the time he peed on my back in the hotel bathtub that one night we spent together. I used to think ick ick ick. But when it came down to it, I was looking forward to the experience, which ended up being like some exquisite ritual and not demeaning at all. With another man, I doubt it would have been like that.


  2. I think it takes a very special type of man, and an extraordinary Dom to foster the type of relationship you have, and allow you to grow as a person, in places you'd never thought you'd go.

    I am finding as time goes on, even just through thinking, that things I would never have considered previously could potentially be on the table now. It has a lot to do with context.

    Earlier while driving, I was thinking about urine again. I suppose in the right context it could be okay. And if I couple it in my mind with feces, well I would definitely have a preference there. I suppose as you grow and change as a person your limits will change as well, but starting out as I am, it seems like standing at the end of a long tunnel. I can see a tiny light, but I can't imagine ever being on the other side, despite starting to walk through.

  3. Nice blog. Very introspective.


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