It happened while we where talking, him and I.
I could literally feel it happen. It was quite … intense.
It was the guy from the other post, and it was the third time we met. We had talked about kink, domination and the like before, enough to figure out that we were compatible enough to meet again. This time we were talking about something I wanted to try, and if he was willing to try it or not. He was willing, he did not hesitate, not about that. But at a point in the conversation he looked away and was very much not eager to look at me. He paused, and did not continue. Just stared at the ground. It took him several tries to get the words out.
That was when it happened.
The sadist in me awoke for the first time in months.
Ever since I put her to sleep when my relationship ended last autumn.
I find being a sadist slightly scary. I have to trust the other person, the person I hurt, so much. I have to trust them with my peace of mind, my sanity, my very life. If they do not communicate properly, if they do not say stop when they need me to stop, if I make a mistake (which do unfortunately happen), if they change their mind and decides that what I did was a violation after the fact … I am well and truly screwed, on so many levels. Of course, I do everything in my power to keep the bottom safe. I have always done so, and I always will. But the trust it takes to give someone pain … it is not easy to come by. So I was grateful when the sadist went to sleep without a fight.
It was not so with the dominant in me. Far from it. That part never went to sleep, never retreated. It just … waited. Patiently. In the darkest corner of my mind. (Cue malicious laughter.) I think my dominant traits are easier to live with, so to speak. So while the dominant part of me thought living without a submissive was uncommonly hard, it did not make my life very difficult.
Because the dominant part never retreated, it was that itch I was out to scratch when I started looking for someone to play with. I wanted someone to order around. Someone who liked taking orders as much as I liked giving them. Someone who did not think BDSM = sex. Someone who would be happy with a simple D/s relationship. And because I was just looking for a D/s relationship, gender was not an issue.
Which again led to the conversation with the guy that looked away form me, clearly embarrassed.
The sadist roused and sniffed the air like a freaking hound. She could smell the embarrassment, and feel it in the air, as well as see it. While I, seconds before, had been ready to feel sympathy towards him and his humiliation, I now had none. I just stared at him while my old, sadistic smile almost split my face in half. I watched him like a hawk for more signs of humiliation, drank up his body cues and watched the hands that could not find a good place to lie still.
It felt so good.
I revelled in it.
The conversation started up haltingly, but my smile did not disappear right away. It came to the point where I had to ask whether or not I had informed him about that fact that I am a sadist. (I had.) I must have looked somewhat ridiculous with that grin.
Some minutes later, the grin disappeared.
The memory of the incident and the feelings it aroused, did not.
Now the sadist is wide-awake and she does not want to shut up, much less go back to sleep.
I do not yet have the level of trust with this guy, that I both need and want. But the sadist does not give a damn. She invents one scenario after an other, full of both pain and humiliation. And she makes me imagine how good it will feel to do and say those things, to make him do those things, and watch him blush, and whimper, and stammer, and groan, and look away, and … and … yesss …
It has become quite bothersome.
I have things to do. Things that now is a lot harder to do because my imagination is on fire and my sadist is starved and so, so hungry. There is no holding her back, at least she does not think so.
To top it of, her chosen victim is not exactly ready for the taking. Even if he should be willing to do it; I am not.
I think that is the hardest part of it. That it is likely that I am the biggest obstacle for my own satisfaction. But I do not know him well enough, and do not trust him enough, to really believe that he is able to give me the communication and honesty that is necessary to make it safe to release the sadist, even a little.
Maybe in a while. When we have talked a bit more. When we have played a bit with D/s. Then maybe we could start small and see where it takes us. If he wants to. If I dare.
In the meanwhile … does anyone know how to gag a pain-hungry sadist? I have work to do.