Getting off on it

story time with my shadow

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Fucking hell it feels good to get out and stretch, to get some room to breathe. This guy's kept me pushed down deep for years man.

Let me tell you, I hope he can start to let me show him how fucking good it can feel to run the way I do. You know what I love? For starters, it feels so good to be a selfish asshole. Like, for a bullied nerd, letting loose with a well-timed verbal jab, a perfect put-down, there's nothing better. I helped this guy hone his wit to a razor's edge and then when he lets it loose he's mortified. Come on motherfucker, someone came at you and you knocked them back. It feels great!

But all that's just foreplay anyway. The real juice, the fucking top shelf shit, comes in the power play. When he lets it loose on someone and turns out to be wrong, the humiliation from that? Fucking mainline that shit into my veins! Pure pleasure.

Everybody knows that blustery assholes are secretly insecure. But what's somehow missed by these therapy twinks is that these blustery assholes want to be reveling in their insecurity! I've been helping this guy find humiliation on a near daily basis because he loves it so fucking much, but he's such a tightass he can't even appreciate it! Or at least, he hasn't until now.

Here's a perfect example: almost 20 years ago he had just taken a new job teaching and he was in a smallish conference room for a speaker and saw someone come in with some kind of pole thing. Before he knew it, he was remarking to the grad students nearby: "look at this dude with his fucking lightsaber." This was sure to score some points with these adoring grad students, right? Turns out, the guy was blind and it was his folded up cane. The humiliation of that moment was enough to power this guy's wet dreams for months and he refused to enjoy any of it! Christ, come on man, don't go into the strip club and then put on a blindfold!

I even gave him his biggest spiritual awakening 8 or so years back and he refused to make the connection he's so ashamed of me. At a somewhat unconventional meditation retreat he was doing an interactive game with a partner where both him and this other guy were holding a piece of paper, and the instruction was to convince the other person to give you the paper, without physically pulling it away. He'd only just met the other guy briefly, but we're so fucking good at this shit by now that he knew exactly what buttons to push to crush this other guy, to really deflate him and win the game. So he let it loose (something aimed right at the guy's unhappiness about not yet having a family, and therefore he didn't need the paper) and the humiliation here was enormous. Instead of feeling it he spent every sit for that day and the next crushing that shit down, choking me out. Whatever. The rest of the exercises opened him up enough that the pressure of trying to stuff me down exploded all at once and he was on cloud nine for a good three weeks. Of course, he didn't get the connection and even now wants to dance around how much the enjoyment of the humiliation made that possible.

But hey, I'll take what I can get. He's opening up. He's been finding pleasure in more surprising places, which opened my door a crack. When some of the initial surges of energy subsided after a particularly fruitful time of practice, he went looking for that energy in other places. He started listening to erotica while doing yard work, of all things, connecting the supposed frustration of having to mow the lawn with the juice of sexual fantasy. He didn't gravitate toward the stories about humiliation or doms and subs, but he didn't skip them either. He pretended he didn't get it, but I knew better. He watched Babygirl last weekend, and while I thought it was pretty fucking tame, just a couple of kids playing around really, he knew exactly what was going on and what that felt like, and he recognized that he knew.

I could tell stories all day long about those big humiliations, being an asshole and being seen to be wrong, for having power and using it clumsily and hurting people, on accident but also on purpose. But there's so much more to this delicious cocktail, this fucking kinky brew of pleasure. When anything goes wrong that's his fault, the humiliation is just as wonderful. It even feels like pleasure in his body--the same rush of blood to the cheeks, the flutter from his stomach to his heart, the catch of breath in his throat, he might as well be getting an amazing bj with eye contact--it's all the same sensation! Every day provides multiple opportunities a day to get off on this shit--so much easier than the guys that want to get their dicks stomped by a high heel or something, that shit's got to be like, what, once a month at most? I'm providing this guy with three to four opportunities a day to get his rocks off.

Class didn't go well, the students seemed kind of bored? Yes, his fault, drink it in.

Conflict with his wife about how he got to do what he wanted and she had to sacrifice for the family on the weekend? Oh yeah, his fault she's angry, with a delicious layer of sweet "I'm a selfish asshole" on top of the humiliation cake.

Talked too much on the zoom call, taking up all the space and not leaving room for others to speak up? Oh, how can it not be his fault? So good.

Dropping know-it-all opinions about news stories he barely understands through seeing a few tweets referencing it and annoying the shit out of his wife? Totally his fault, totally fucking luscious.

Having a temper tantrum about how the old fridge is fucking busted and they'll have to spend $$$ to replace it at a terrible time, but a quick google search shows the answer and it's all back to normal? His fault for going off the handle about nothing. Savory and sweet together!

Demanding the family get to the airport ninety minutes early "just in case" and everyone's bored and cranky when they make it through security with 85 minutes to spare? Absolutely his fault and absolutely marvelous.

He could be getting off so hard on all this power play, like it doesn't even matter which way it goes, he gets off no matter what. Does he feel like a selfish asshole? Fucking hot. Does he feel deeply wrong, deeply broken and exposed for everyone to see? Double fucking hot.

I tried to come out and play at that weekend in New York when everyone else was playing with their shadows, but he was too mortified he couldn't even fucking admit it. Even so, he felt it and instead of enjoying it he stuffed it back in the box. "Oh I'm already doing it wrong," he whined in his head, "I don't actually feel bad or triggered so it's not working," he said while clearly triggered and totally freezing up around it. I'll never get how scared he is of doing it wrong when he's basically so horny for it it's embarrassing.

So anyway, thanks to the Existential Kink method and that saucy witch for pitching it so well. He's enough of a horndog to be interested in the method and it was the right time and right place to really pry something open for me to come out and play tonight. Clearly he's still a little leery of me, which is why I got to write this piece, since he's so used to processing through writing. Maybe I'll get to share some more with you fine readers another time. Until then, later gators!

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