BDSM

Standard

BDSM, the abbreviation people often shorten to S&M which is much more than just a Metallica album (granted it’s one of my favourites of theirs) is something that I know a little about.  I have never gone pro, or given it that much of my time and effort but through a good friend of mine I know quite a lot about it. And based on our one night together about a million years ago, I don’t think I am missing much as I like having blood circulation in my hand and my finger nails are too long for prolonged squeezing without doing myself a mischief.  I like bits and bobs and I like some of the roles and the costumes but I’m not committed enough.

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But even though this blog might make you think I am going to be taking a turn on the dominance and humiliation side, that’s not what (in this instance) BDSM stands for.  For my twisted purposes I am changing the first two words: Bad Decisions, Sado Masochism.

Yes I like bondage, I am happy to be tied up with bondage tape, climbing rope or held in place by under-bed restraints, I love being spanked and I want you to be a man about it and choking is always a good time, even though someone once popped a blood vessel in my eye (I still enjoyed myself).  I’m not opposed to being slammed up against walls, left with bruises and bite marks but it turns out the thing that I am the most sado masochistic with are the bits of me you can’t see and can’t touch.

I have this amazing ability to be able to convince myself that the idea that comes with one of those nuclear hazard warning systems is what I should do.  That situation that is only going to end badly, I should get involved with, that guy who has no potential whatsoever to be anything other than an epic disappointment in the long run should be the father to my babies etc…  You see I think it’s that I don’t tend to think long term, I have tried that once and well I am back to having no long term plans so figure out how that went; which means I see the immediate fun/trouble in the situation and I go from there.  It’s not that I don’t know its a bad idea, I know but I just don’t care.  I know it’s going to all end in a big pile of shit and someone is going to be burned or missing bits from the waist down and I do it anyway because when it comes to decisions, emotions and feelings I am one of the biggest sado masochists on the planet; and that’s fine because when you are about to have your ass paddled, you know what’s coming.

It’s only a problem when you get distracted and forget that sooner or later someone is just going to leave a paddle print on that fleshy part and you weren’t expecting it.

I like the danger, the rush of doing something (or someone) I know I shouldn’t and I like knowing that I am pushing the boundaries of what I can tell my friends without them judging me.  I love knowing I am doing something that they wouldn’t and that it is more than likely going to end in total disaster because it’s when you fly that close to the sun you know you are alive and very, very hot!  Give me a safe, sensible option and I’m not interested, give me a good guy with no baggage and I’m bored out of my tree but tell me I shouldn’t do something, or it’s a bad idea and I am all over it like teenage girls on those little boys that are in a band asking for directions.

Maybe I’m stupid, maybe I’m selfish because I don’t consider what anyone else wants when these things happen or maybe I’m some kind of emotional masochism junkie.  Whatever it is, I best choose a safe word.

HDJ xxx

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