My dirty little secret is that I love following rules. I know, we’re meant to carve our own paths and fight the system. And I do that in real life when there’s good reason to. But fundamentally, I’ve always been a bit of a ‘good girl’. I am most in my element during situations where there are clear rules to follow: fancy dinners with etiquette about which knife to use; parties with dress codes that are written down in black and white; family traditions that are the same every single year. Those are my comfort zones. It’s not just that I like to know I’m doing the right thing, I also enjoy the pageantry that comes along with strictly laid-out social interactions.
Perhaps it’s unsurprising, then, that I’m into BDSM.
Kink is the perfect canvas on which to paint the picture of my sexuality. I like being told what to do. I like having the option to relinquish all control in any situation, passing it to someone who decides on my behalf how I will stand or sit, whether I may speak, and—of course—when I might be allowed to come.
And I love the pomp and ceremony that comes along with that. I know some people play in a more casual way—for them it’s the sensations and the power exchange that is important. Some of my friends could spend a happy kinky afternoon playing with nothing more than a couple of repurposed ties attached to a bed frame and a wooden spoon to spank with. But I love the accoutrements that come with kinky sex: the scent of leather, the clink of chains, the beautiful harnesses and furniture. All of that sets a scene. It helps to establish a tone that instantly puts me in my comfortable, rule-following happy place.
When Steve offered to give...
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Sheh 🔥