Modesty stirs me. Shyness makes me swell. When it’s tempered with a certain coyness, an ab
Modesty stirs me. Shyness makes me swell. When it’s tempered with a certain coyness, an ability to marry it with a sultry demeanour and a teasing smile, it’s going to get me right where I want it to get me. I want you to cover up while at the same time getting undressed. I want to have my cake and eat it, in other words, while you get the same. Because I always want to believe in the innocence and purity of my partner, even when I’m doing the most depraved, perverted things to her, and she’d begging for more. I want to be able to maintain that illusion in my head, because it’s only an illusion if I treat it like one. In reality, it’s the truth; you are pure, you are innocent, because to lose that implies taking part in something that’s guilty, that’s dirty. And as much as we revel in the negative words associated with our interests, they’re nothing of the sort. If you’ll excuse my high-falutin for a moment, D/s is the Higher Good that Mill talked about. It’s marrying intelligence to something primal and base. It’s treating it with a heavy varnish of eloquence and thought, of theory and philosophy that elevates it above petty rutting in the nearby barn. (Not that I’ve got anything against rutting in a barn, but let’s give it some fun context, at least). It makes sex and relationships something we think about in a serious way, rather than something we fall into. You can’t have a proper D/s relationship without thought. So yeah, it’s pure, and guilt-free. But it’s fun to make it feel dirty, depraved, down-right deviant. -- source link
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