I have a confession to make. There are sand dunes in my submission brain. I’m craving for a shot of D-type. I believe I’m going through some kind of submission withdrawals. I’ve not even let myself mentally release the last few times that I’ve played.
I’m topping in my local group, due to a serious lack of education. That’s not what I want to do. I’m a sadist. I’m not a D-type. It’s got my filter all off kilter. My writing has become darker. It’s less about logical BDSM relationships and more about the scarier side of life in general. You haven’t seen what sits, waiting to be worked on, and their levels of boundary-crossing afflictions.
I wonder if this is what happens when a submissive starts to dry up.