Am I a Mutant Freak?

A flashback post from SpiritOfTheNight which was published May 30, 2002.

I set up this column with Ringman, the Backwash founder, in secrecy. In fact, I’ve been around Backwash about a year on and off. I write another column over in original Backwash. But, I didn’t feel comfortable coming out about my BDSM side. There are a lot of stereotypes for women. Things a nice girl does and doesn’t do. Nice girls get treated like nice girls and those other girls, well, they’re just sluts aren’t they?

At one point in my life I thought I was going to die a virgin. I was over 30 when I had sex with a real live human male. I actually took my own cherry with a vibrator I bought in an adult store and I was in my later 20’s then. Even that had to happen when I was thousands of miles away from home.

Not that my Mother was/ is someone prim and proper. Heck, I was her second pregnancy and she was 20 when I was born. The first pregnancy was aborted. If it hadn’t been for that kid’s being aborted I wouldn’t be here today. Mom told me that she didn’t want to abort a second baby so she married my Dad. My Dad is a jerk most of the time, I’ve always thought she should have run while she could.

Anyway, that’s all getting way off the topic. I grew up as a nice girl in a middle class neighborhood in the suburbs of a very large city. Sex wasn’t something taboo but we weren’t about to open up a bordello for a bit of extra income either. You get the idea.

I was a virgin for so long because I didn’t meet any guy I wanted to get naked with. You are pretty vulnerable at that point. My Dad spent a lot of years heaping emotional abuse on me, mainly about how I looked. That didn’t make me feel better about myself and I often loaded up on goodies to make up for it. So, by the time I was 20 I was chubby, had less than perfect skin and any time I might have a bit of self esteem it would be blown to bits when ever I looked at movies, magazines and all the other places “they” tell us we should all look like air brushed photos of skeletal women.

So, dropping my drawers was pretty much the last thing I wanted to do to attract the opposite sex. I think I choose my husband as my first (and only) lover because he was someone who felt a lot like I did. We were both virgins. But, if anyone asks me what the hottest sex I have ever had was, that was it! To be touched so reverently, cautiously, it made me feel like a goddess- priceless, valued and very sexy. Of course, that’s all dust in the wind now.

Anyway, am I a mutant freak? Does anyone else have kinky fantasies or better yet, kinky sex? Does it turn you on to think of being seduced? Do you have rape fantasies? Do you think it would be fun to tie up a strong man and have your way with him? Or do you really, secretly just want to be Daddy’s little girl?

Have You Ever Been So Low, For So Long?

This piece, by Un, was published Friday, September 10, 2004, at Adult Backwash.

Have you ever been so low, for so long, that you knew there was no way but up, for the first time in your life, and that only scared the shit out of you? The thought of actually moving, even if it was the dream of ‘up,’ gives a paralysis that only the experienced can know.

Have you ever been so low, for so long, that the thought of leaving your dark gloomy cave was more threat than promise? What if you reached down for that last bit of strength, mustered the will to try, and you made it? You went to a place where you could at least see ‘happy,’ or the smell of it would waft to your nose, what then? Would it all just be taken away again anyway? Or would it be worse.

Have you ever been so low, for so long, that in your misery you felt a safety in the lack of the threat that more would be dumped upon you? Your wish is only to remain hidden from the sight of gods who only see you as a plaything for ways of punishment.

Have you ever been so low, for so long, that it is better to stay where you are? Your life as a mouse in a hole, full of your own excrement, with nothing to eat but the walls & the aforementioned shit, was at least safe from the cat lurking outside the door. Yes, you missed the warmth of the sun. Yes, the promise of fresh food, of running on green grass or plush carpeting was divine. But what about the cat? If not the cat, what about the traps? The poisoned peanut butter? What if you made one remarkable run across the plush green carpet to the lush green grass outside, only to be battered by hurricanes, carried off by a hawk? Bliss would be instant death, but you know better. No ingestion, just some scars & a nasty long drop…

Have you ever been so low, for so long, that the only thing that sustained you was fear? The good news is, fear is everywhere. You fear to hope. You fear to dream. You fear cats, traps, hawks, winds, cars, & even writing.

Have you ever been so low, for so long?