Having eye-contact is scary. In a way, eyes give me too much information. I feel like I can see through people, read their intentions and tell if they’re lying. But this is not 100% true. Often enough, I’ve been duped and betrayed.
I’m sometimes clumsy in looking at people, doing it too many times which makes it weird, or too little. But engaging in ‘the gaze’ during sexual times is even worse.
First of all, I can’t look at myself while I’m having sex, which in my case means participating in BDSM-activities. I’m not sure why, but I hate even seeing my shadow, imagining what my face would look like at that moment. It feels terrible and just wrong.
I think part of it is because I resemble my mother a lot, so it’s sort of looking at my mother doing perverted things. I mean activities like being tied up or whipped and that’s just…wrong.
Now that I have kinky friends, I sometimes see glimpses of their play. I haven’t played with anyone yet, but while hanging out together, you see bits and pieces—a slap on the other’s body here, a remark that feels very sexual. I don’t know how to behave when this happens. I have no idea how to hold myself and where to look. This takes place in a relaxed area, like someone’s living room, and it would be perfectly okay if I looked. I just can’t. It feels private and inappropriate.
Me Being Watched
My husband likes to demonstrate how he ties the Texas Handcuffs on me. I have no problems with this. It’s a simple tie. It actually feels kinda nice, and it immobilises me, especially if he puts my hands in my neck. Nothing wrong with that.
But the other day he did this tie on me while we had friends over. I did not know where to look. I felt extremely awkward. And my friends were kind and interested in the tie. They weren’t making things uncomfortable. I was.
I think it’s an intimacy issue. These circumstances felt incredibly intimate, and to me, that’s scary. At the same time, it’s about trust. Do they trust me enough to share this private moment with me? And the other way around?
Will they hurt me if I let them come this close? And no, not the flogger-kind of pain, but the raw pain of stepping on my heart? Will they laugh at me and crush me?
It’s all very confusing.
Well, Liz, then just stick to dinner and drinks with your friends, and that’s that.
But that’s the thing. I long to play with other people. I want to have adventures and experience play with others. I want to know what it’s like to be tied by someone else, to be whipped by someone who’s not my Dominant.
I know the solution. Strip me naked and turn me on. Once my inner slut is revealed, there’s nothing to hold me back.
The problem arises when decent, polite Liz is confronted with anything sexual. Then a clash occurs. Decent, good-girl Liz is not supposed to even talk about sex, let alone look at it and enjoy it. That’s not proper.
So that’s where I’m at with looking at people enjoying BDSM in real life and being looked at. Everyone is perfectly fine with it, except for prim and proper Liz. While at the same time, this Liz wants to join in on all the fun, invite everyone in on all the fun and discard every notion of impropriety. Being human is hard. Being Liz is hard. But I’m sure one day this prim and proper side of me will join hands with the slutty side of me, and we’ll have all the fun in the world.