WillDive4Plants.
I don’t even realize I’m grinning until my own laugh startles me in my quiet office.
What are the fucking odds?
It’s the little hippy I rescued from the dumpster last week. I also know she’s a member of Club Alias, since she never wears a mask and I’ve seen her several times over the years. But she’s always been with a man, her husband I assumed, whenever I saw her at the edge of a public scene done in the common area of the club. She always watches so intently, as if studying them like a living, breathing work of art on display in a studio. And getting to see her reactions without the obstruction of a mask made her a rarity and hard to forget, especially her physiological responses when it’s one of Sir Jeremy’s scenes she’s observing.
It's how I recognized her the very first time I saw her climbing into the dumpster. It’s why I felt an odd sense of protectiveness over her while she did her thing, rescuing the plants. She’s not only a woman, which automatically sets off my desire to keep her safe, but she’s a true submissive. And while submissives are fucking badass, seeing as they hold all the power and are the ones allowing us Dominants to do what we wish to them, one does not become a submissive “just for funzies,” as Seth so eloquently put it during one of his training sessions. There’s always, always a psychological reason a person is a submissive. Like a Dominant, they can be submissive by nature, but to become a sub, as in within the BDSM lifestyle, I’ve never once come across one who isn’t that way or in that role as a trauma response.
Therefore, ever since I learned more about the psychology of different kinks and identities in the community, I’ve been incredibly protective over submissives—female or male, doesn’t matter.
I’m a Dominant through and through. It’s just who I am. A natural-born leader who decided to lean in to my gifts instead of rebelling against them. Someone with my nature could easily use our “powers” for evil, but with my upbringing, I didn’t have the luxury of making a bad choice that I could learn from and do better later. I knew I wouldn’t have time to do penance for wrongdoings and have a character arc where I’d turn my life around. It was either do the right thing from the start, or the people who counted on me would be fucked. And there’s no way I could let anything happen to my siblings when they were “blessed” with the same parents I was.
I snap myself out of those thoughts and focus on the screen in my hand. Now that I have access to her that’s not just by chance, I feel an eagerness to learn more about the woman like I haven’t felt in a long time.
WillDive4Plants
34 ~ Female ~ Straight
Single
I’m a bestselling BDSM romance author doing research for my next novel about a woman in her 30s who joins a dating site. I haven’t been on one of these things in almost 15 years, so here I am, only here to see if anything has changed!
Desires below indicate things I’d like to interview other kinksters about.
Desires: friendship, bdsm, texting, kink, dominant, submissive
An author. Artistic-minded. Doing research. It explains so much about why it always felt like she was watching scenes at the club so closely. It makes me wonder if she used specific things she saw in one of her books. Did she picture the ones that I saw made her cheeks and chest flush red and her breaths speed up, as she wrote her bestselling stories?
The mere idea makes me hard.
I have the urge to dig until I find her books just to see if I can pick out the different nights at the club that inspired her. Because I can remember the way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched Sir Jeremy tie the intricate knots of the harness created out of rope. I can still see her reddening chest rising and falling quickly as she panted for breath when the Magic Wand was attached to the harness and flipped on low.
I know from experience what it’s like to be on that stage. What would it be like to have her eyes on me, whether from the crowd or up there with me? When I do a public scene, I like to stand back for a moment with my head tilted downward, my hood falling forward to hide my eyes that fixate on the audience, being the center of their attention taking my arousal even higher.
Though I have to hide my identity, I’m an exhibitionist—I like being watched. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been put into a leadership position, so I just got used to eyes being on me. I’ve never been self-conscious, and not just because I take care of my body and understand I’m above average in attractiveness. Again, not being conceited, it’s just a fact. Not only because I’ve been told so by people of all sexes my entire life, but because my features are near-perfect in symmetry, which scientifically registers as attractive in the human mind. But I’ve also never been self-conscious because, although I wasn’t diagnosed when I was a child—Mom didn’t care enough about us to take us to the doctor unless we were basically dying—I’ve heard more times than I can count that I’m definitely on the spectrum. And that’s coming from colleagues whose job it is to recognize it. Most commonly known as Asperger Syndrome, it’s now referred to as autism spectrum disorder, and I’m on the “high-functioning” end of the scale. It’s hard for me to understand societal norms, and the part of one’s brain that controls modesty just… got locked in the off position, I guess.