For a while now I’ve felt my interest in all things kinky to be waning. It’s a lot like I’m simply going through the motions and I find myself feigning interest because I’m ‘wearing the shiny thing’ and that obliges you to be interested in that stuff. Honestly, I think if I didn’t have another kinky moment in my life ever again, I’d be fine.
I’m over fetlife, play parties and fetish wear. I can still manage boots because they’re actually in fashion this winter – especially those of the thigh-high variety – but everything else I can really take it or leave it.
I’m also over angsting over my ‘slavery’ and all the assorted stuff that comes with it. It was fun while it lasted, but try as I might to convince myself otherwise, it’s not really me. And if I’m constantly trying to convince myself otherwise, that’s a pretty good indication of what is actually the truth, don’t you think?
I find myself getting more and more snarky towards newbies and cynical about everything else. My eyes glaze over at the fiftieth discussion titled, ‘Am I normal?’ and my answer to everything is a nice, short, ‘meh’.
I don’t associate play with excitement or butterflies or anything else like that anymore. My first reaction is usually, ‘Do I have to?’ followed by, ‘How long is this going to take?’ and completed with, ‘Are you done yet?’
My heart just isn’t in it and I can’t will myself to feel any differently. Pretending otherwise is just a waste of everyone’s time.
So yeah, I’m over kink everywhere except in the bedroom, ’cause that’s the only place where it still rocks my boat.
I just couldn’t imagine going back to ‘vanilla sex’ or ‘making love’ as they like to call it even if I’m no longer interested in anything else. Sex has been and will always be an animal act for me. I don’t see it as an expression of love between two people and I don’t require any of the niceties that are supposed to be associated with it.
Just have your way with me and leave me a snotty, dishevelled mess. kthxbye.