When you bring up BDSM a lot of people assume you must be talking about whips and chains and floggers (oh my) and leather outfits and dungeons and that sort of thing. Someone is being hit with something, perhaps crawling around on the floor or shackled to a wall, and there's got to be intense amounts of pain involved. That's a misconception. Not all dominants and submissives play with pain, nor do they all wear leather costumes and call each other Master and slave when they're playing. Some do, sure, but not all. For some the play just mental and includes only the sort of acts that are considered fairly ordinary and commonplace by most.

J never put on leather pants, or whacked me with a whip, or told me I must call him Sir. I think if he had I probably would have been rather freaked out, actually. There wasn't any sort of punishment involved in anything we did together. Pretty much what it was all about was figuring out the things I refused to do and then getting me to do them. There was never any asking going on, it was telling. It was thrilling to have no choice in the matter, to not have any responsibility for my naughty actions was intensely exciting to me.

And oh how I loved him, and he loved me. We found one another fascinating. We never ran out of things to discuss. Being with him was one of the most contented times in my life. But the timing was just so wrong, and sometimes geography and circumstances can put a big huge hitch in perfection.

Posted by: My Secret Life As A Former Prostitute at 7:51 AM

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