I have wandered in and out of lifestyles of D/s and BDSM play for more than five years now. There's a million more things I *haven't* done, but I have sampled the lifestyle offerings. I have been strung up, gagged, beaten, whipped, caned, cuffed, collared, plugged, waxed, and mind-fucked. I have made friends and even taken lovers among the many Dominants, Tops, and sadists I have met.
I cannot deny that I am a curious creature and that the dark things attract my attention like little else in the world right now. I get drawn in and follow you from the sidelines, wandering the fringe of the scene, curious and longing. I develop crushes that I hold silently, wishing you might take notice and use me for service, hoping you will pull me into your arms and invite me to play.
If I can, I dodge actual invitations, though. The rare times that I have slipped and fallen to my knees in worship end in terrible ways. I lack the stability in my inner-self to submit and withdrawing and running away hurts almost as much as the bindings or bruises. I am not a worthwhile plaything for you. My curiosity turns to terror far too quickly for your tastes.
And yet, I remain...wandering, curious, and afraid of you.
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