HappyComeLucky

There are lots of things that are hot that directly challenge the things that we are taught about what is good, polite and acceptable as we grow up. Being talked about pulls many of these things together and adds a whole extra layer of breath quickening heat.

In challenging and claiming a sexuality and life that is outside those societal norms, it feels as though there are several layers. First, there is the thinking about it. Followed by putting those thoughts and desires into action. Then there is the point that you own your sexuality. That there is a powerful point and I thought that was enough.

The thought of people talking about me, about what I do, about how I feel, about what they will do to me pulls my whole consciousness down to a throbbing need in my cunt. It makes me feel desperately empty, urgently needing to be filled with the words they would say.

That hunger for their words is mixed with an edge of fear. What if they don’t want to say anything. What if they basically end up saying, ‘could do better’… What if they say things that make me feel that struggle between what I am and how I act and those societal expectations. What if they say something that is so filthy and true that it turns me inside out, strips me bare and leaves no pretence of anything other than a primal, hungry slut behind.

The first two of those fears are just those brain weasely fears about being inadequate and need to go and get in the bin.

The other fears are what makes this kink so powerful. If people are talking about me, I have no control over what they will say. It makes me vulnerable. It makes what I am explicit. – In my teenage years, I could be a slut is long as it wasn’t known. It was like a private deal done out of sight and hidden from others. It was important to keep the facade of ‘respectable’ at all times.

I was talking to a lover about this kink and what it does to me. I’ve only experienced short but screamingly hot snippets of this so far but I know it’s something that goes round and round my head a lot and makes me crave more.

I shared that I had often joked about getting people to leave a SlutAdvisor review of time with me. My lover planted a seed of a thought. What about a section on my blog where people could do that. They could share experiences. Make comments. Discuss plans and possibilities.

Of course that’s ridiculous and I should just react by thinking what a delicious thought. I definitely shouldn’t have responded by working out the practicalities of how to make that section invitation only.

I shouldn’t set something like that up so that people can talk about me here on my blog…

…should I?

Just imagine what sort of hot mess I would be, reading those comments. And then, what if…

This message made me whimper. The objectification with the purpose of starting the next discussion about me. Oh. Just oh.

Oh… I want that!

“A lively discussion is usually helpful, because the hottest fire makes the hardest steel.”

Tom Clancy