I have an interesting relationship with fear. A love-hate relationship I suppose. I don’t like watching horror movies - I hate the way they make me feel afraid. I don’t like being made to jump suddenly. (I flinch easily - if I round a corner and encounter a person I hadn’t expected to see there, I will flinch.) I don’t even watch a lot of suspense films. But on the other hand I sometimes watch those “true haunting” shows on tv, always in the hopes I’ll actually, eventually get to see some real proof of a ghost. From a young age, I was fascinated with the idea of ghosts and interested in the dark side of life that many are afraid of. My best friend and I were glued to the Ouija board for a good year or so as teenagers. We thought we were communing with demons and other spirits, of course my older, cynical self thinks much of it - if not all of it - was in our heads. But it was fun times, being friendly with dark spirits we shouldn’t have been playing with. It all held a tingle of fear, but what a thrill to be facing it head on.
While doing bdsm play with someone you trust is important, after all safety is key, I can understand the thrill of doing it with someone you don’t know so well. Why? Fear. One of the things I love about MasterDoc is that he has proven himself trustworthy, and yet he can still instill fear in me. It’s the perfect combination. Safe, but not too safe.
It wasn’t until several months into our relationship that I realized I liked it when he’d make me scared. While I’m disgusted by the notion of things like being peed on or made to do analingus, the idea that he can threaten me with it, and that I can get afraid because I know full well that he would - and indeed will - make me do these things sometime is a total turn on. Yes, I get off on some fear. To be clear, it’s not the act, it’s the fact that he can make me do the act despite my own disgust and reluctance that’s the turn on. The feeling that I lack control, that I’ve given control up to him is a turn on. (Interesting that non-consensual lack of control is so very different than consensual. I’ve been traumatized by non-consensual acts in my life.)
I mentioned to him recently that we seemed to be doing less bdsm, or at least less intense bdsm lately. As we relaxed on his bed last night and I hoped that we’d get freaky, we talked for a bit. He got that evil glint in his eye that always makes me nervous. He started talking about how, by complaining that the bdsm hasn’t been intense enough, I was virtually asking for him to pee in my mouth. I acknowledged that I knew that was a risk I was taking. He went down that path, making me sing a little song to the tune of an old Campbell’s soup commercial, “Mm-mm good, mm-mm good, MasterDoc’s pee is, mm-mm good.” I tell you, it was desperately hard to get those words to come out of my mouth. I was scared he’d do it. I was scared by the idea of it.
And it’s funny, afterwards, we came to the realization that his threats, his taking my thoughts down the path to difficult submissive activities, was actually rough (in other words HOT) bdsm. Just by talking we engaged in a bit of a scene.
Some wonderful orgasms came later (kneeling! I could barely hold myself up.), and there was much cock sucking, and still more orgasms courtesy of the magic wand. While the orgasms were fulfilling in a way I needed sexually, the talk we had had was fulfilling in the way that my kinky brain needs to be pushed into fear sometimes. Fear can be delicious. It can get me wet. And some days I crave it.
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