The Anti-Masochist
I've often thought about where I'm comfortable on the spectrum of kink. I've never quite reached a conclusion, but I've grown comfortable with what my likes and dislikes are, and I'm confident in telling someone who asks what they want to know.
One thing I've never quite got a handle on is why I crave the sadist, when I don't have much of a masochist side to offer in return.
And, boy, do I get hung up on sadists.
Something about their ability to use anything against me (especially my own words), and the sheer capacity for danger and wickedness is completely intoxicating.
It's better than sex itself to be mentally screwed by an adept sadist. And I'm a total whore for it.
The darker they get, the more compelled I am to spiral down into depravity with them. But not because they lead me there.
It's like finding someone who can dance as fast and as hard as you, but they weave their own twist around your moves, without ever having heard your rhythm before. The gift of a particularly good dance partner is that you know the kind of moves that might come, but you're on edge as you keep up with one another.
The inertia of dancing with the devil is what makes it so addictive - less 'What If', more 'What Next'. It's terrifying, exhilarating, and where I feel most at home.
The problem I find with my lust for sadists is what to put in my counteroffer.
I'm not a masochist. Pain is nothing but a reset button. I'm a danger to myself because I want the experience to escalate; I want the fear of never emerging, I want it darker, deeper, harder than my body could probably take. I need to transcend pain, otherwise what's the point?
One would likely argue that a sadist needs a masochist. The bottom to the Top. That's where I retain an ounce of hope; I don't need to get off on pain to feel like I'm worthy of the sadist's focus. The existence of a sadist is enough to inflict emotional suffering, because I don't feel like I'm what they need.
I still shy away from the chance to engage with a sadist. As much as I crave - and I mean really crave - that danger and lack of balance, I still don't have anything to offer in return. Being the kind of girl who'd give up breathing for the right person, I can't make a sales pitch out of myself knowing I'm not quite selling what they came to buy.
But if you're a sadist in the market for a non-masochist, non-bottom, slave-to-danger that just might destroy you, I know where you can find one.
About the Author: DiavalDiablo is a mental auralist with a love of sharp things, including wit, and is considered an "antisocial butterfly".
