Thinking Out Loud...

I've had a weird past few days. Or, weeks, rather.

By putting my profile up on one of those BDSM sites, I've been talking to a lot of Doms online. And people who -think- they're Doms.

I've been told several times that I'm not a 'true sub' in the past few weeks. I've already had doubts about that myself. I must admit, though, that the people who've said this about me -- well, they wouldn't be the first sort of people that I'd invite to a picnic.

I've also met lots of lovely, wonderful people ... whom I've alienated or basically made feel like shit. ;)

I throw up major walls if people start poking past them. If they manage to get a little through them, then I call in reinforcements and sandbags.

This tends to either make people think I'm a bitch, or make people think that I'm not worth talking to. Which, in some cases and on some days, I'm not.

But ... I -need- a Dom.

That's the only thing that seems to work for me. That wonderful mindfuck, that wiggles through the cracks in my walls and and exposes me for my inner slut. The deep, hard, wondrous pain that centers me and opens me up in so many ways. Deep in subspace, willing and eager to please, wonderful place that it is. And having someone there to prop me up after I come out of it, nicely reconstructed and formed.

I really need that.

I just reject it at every turn. ;)

Maybe that's why I can associate so much with RG's stories. It's almost like she's crawled inside of my head or something. Scary.

Anyway, that's my thinking out loud today. Well, not really out loud, except for the sound of my keyboard.