I'm standing in front of a white multi-pane door with black accents. I'm in a (plastic boned) corset, black with white flower designs, with my hair down and noir style makeup. I have a mysterious grin on my face - really, I don't remember why. I do remember it was just before heading out to goth night at my old stomping grounds and I had a good friend of mine take the photo.
So, I put it up on the *insert fetish website here* just for kicks. I have more images of chainmaille up there than anything else, and I figure most people are probably getting annoyed with me publicizing my side business. The only real flattering photo of myself I have up is from 2008 - the one of me in the dress and snow. Huzzah. I was also lusting for a real steel boned corset, so I figured I had to make my case that I like corsetry. Or something.
I got a huge and unexpected reaction from a ton of people in the local scene. As in, I was absolutely floored.
Most everyone put up the usual "damn, you look hot." Ok, that's a usual complement for pictures that people are just seeing where there is some sexual appeal. Fetish people and corsets - they go together like a turtle and water. Two responses really got me, though, because they had something deeper to say.
One, unnamed for general reasons, said something along the lines of (paraphrasing) With that shy and sexy smile, I wish we saw more of this side of you.
*blink*
O....k.....
I think I'm letting this out a bit, but I guess not?
The other said (paraphrasing, from a male source) - I don't really see you as a sexual type person until I saw this, but now I can objectify you in a good way.
*mini internal freakout*
That's when the knife decided to anchor itself somewhere in the rib/lung area and I had to flee from the site for a while. Why? Well, it's difficult really to pin down. I guess it's because I AM a sexual person times ten bagillion and one. My libido (and attitude on sex in general) is like a 15-16 year old boy in a strip club.... which is why I keep it shoved in under a rock somewhere on the west coast.
I'm NOT a good person. I can't be trusted to keep my damn hands to myself, and I most certainly can't be trusted to keep in the acceptable limits spectrum. That 15-16 year old boy? He's been in the weight room and is more than willing to overcome the next beautiful woman that passes by. I fight, struggle, coerce, and generally beat the crap out of that part of me so it stays in relative submission and I can function like a 'normal' human during the day - but sometimes bits and pieces come flying on out at unexpected moments. So, after a few scares and a lot of self-loathing coming from the 'normal' person in here, I linked the sexual to the perverse. Not that it's a BAD thing to be perverse... it's just the extreme part of myself that I loathe to see loose control in ME.
It doesn't help that the 'sexy' in me is fleeting at best under the strain and pressure I hold myself to in order to not let anything 'unacceptable' show. Toss in the geek, throw in a 'fuck off' written on my forehead when I'm uncomfortable with myself and my thoughts... it's no wonder I'm still on the singles market.
But my submission, with someone else in control, I don't have to worry about that other personality... for some reason it disappears and I can relax. I rarely have to beat a tiger back with a stick when I'm being beaten, or iced, or *insert favorite torture here* ~ although I make sure to negotiate no sex.
Dammit, I rambled on again.
Anyway, if they want to see the relaxed sexiness? They can either wait until I get a better tiger cage or they can let me get it out with some activity that I can control. Dancing (as in stripping), I can control myself. Normal interactions - I haven't even tried out of fear.
This birthday party, after these requests, is going to be like throwing the rest of my head to the sharks. I'm just hoping for no panic attacks to sneak up from my past...
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