You Know You’re Kinky When…

Early this year, a close friend of mine from college and I discovered we were both in the BDSM scene.  A discovery made after I ran into her husband at kink night at the local sex club.  Until that point, we had not idea the other was into such things, so the discovery has been humorous and has led to a great number of conversations.  She and her husband opened up their marriage about a year ago while G and I are the “old hands” by comparison.
Recently, we started a back and forth conversation we have dubbed “early indicators we were really kinky”.  These are things in our growing up that should have told us we were on the kinkster path.  
My list so far is as follows:
  • I always had a thing for bruises – showing them off that is.  Being a catcher provided some great ones.  On my thighs and shins.  And getting hit and still having to make the play definitely required a level of pain processing and in a hurry.
  • Spending a lot of time reassuring people that “it really didn’t hurt” when something would happen in sports.  I’ve had more than my share of things happen that made others cringe and worry I was just being brave.  
  • Almost breaking my ankle at 15 and showing my high pain tolerance to the doctor who didn’t think it was that bad because I wasn’t saying “ow” and making him stop. It wasn’t until my body took over and said no more – and I turned white – did the nurse make him stop and they realize they couldn’t count on me to tell them how bad it was. I was on a nice endorphin high, so I didn’t really notice.  
  • When I discovered romance novels as a teen (otherwise known a society accept porn in a book), I spent lots of time rereading and getting off to power play scenes as well as consensual non-consensual scenes.  Those were my favorites.
  • The way I used to deal with getting burned while at the pizza place.  I never freaked out but sort of dealt with it as I dealt with the situation I was in that led to the burn.  Most everyone else would freak out about every little thing.  Pain processing skills were quite good even at 16.  
  • My brother and I used to hit each other with those plastic wiffle ball bats. No nerf bats for us.  And we would laugh as we did it. Until usually I would get him good, he would get pissed, then come after me trying to get me back. I would laugh my ass off.  
  • Overall, the more physical a guy was with me – the more I liked it.  Pull my hair. Punch my arm.  Wrestle.  I would swoon.  You were my favorite person.  I used to say it was because I was a tomboy.  Now I know its because I was just kinky.  
It’s funny how hindsight is 20-20 like that.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Advizor54 says:

    Oh oh… my daughter’s quite the tom-boy…… 🙂

  2. Joker_SATX says:

    I guess this is something that I am living vicariously through you. I (being Latin) never quite understood the attraction of hurting anyone through intimacy…but I guess that there is an attraction to it.

    So I just read…and try to understand the attraction through your words….

What do you think?