Abusing the Shit Out of My Own Corruption

I learned a new word today: poly-saturated: having too many play partners to cope with one more. Me? I’m poly-unsaturated. I’m the kind of monogamist who just can’t bring herself to get in touch with her depraved side unless it’s from inside a safe relationship.

I wish I was one of those people who took off all her clothes at a party before getting thrashed against a St Andrews cross. I wish I was the type who ended the night with casual sex. I wish I jumped into bed with a man for no reason other than that he was awesome. I’m envious of people who have no qualms when it comes to their sexuality because I’m constantly trying to reign mine in. I see all I’m missing out on—the infinite play partners, the affection, and fun. I wish I threw myself into the kink community the way so many of you do.

(Continued below)


In my world, the worst side of kink is not where harm and abuse happen or where edges are reached. It’s where I beat the shit out of my own corruption and then lock it in a cage to experience a life of partial celibacy. I spent the better part of six years alone. I said ‘no’ to every offer because my irrational side says sex is supposed to be serious. I give kink a lot of weight and meaning, but not all the consequences are positive ones.

Why I attribute so many things to sex and kink, which are as benign as any other pastime, is beyond me. I grew up in a liberal home, but I still see sex as dangerous—something that must always be strictly disciplined or it will run amok, destroying everything. What, exactly, it’s supposed to destroy is beyond me. I see nothing rational here beyond my fear of my own intensity. Put me in a relationship and I let go shamelessly and utterly.

I exist in a world that’s like an all you can eat buffet, and every day, I choose the chef’s special instead. I really wouldn’t mind a buffet around about now, but then I remember that if I let go of my poly-unsaturated ethics, all hell will break loose. The problem is that I can’t seem to convince myself that hell might be a pretty great place to play in sometimes. Give me some time. I’m still trying to find the fuck-it switch, but I know it’s around here somewhere.


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