Many things I know about myself are in terms of what I do not want or am not attracted to. I cannot imagine, for instance, wanting to hurt someone I do not care about.
If I do not care about somebody, I cannot see caring about their pain either. I speak of course of pain that I intentionally induce; I will do anything I can to aid anyone in pain and if I hurt someone unintentionally I will be the first one to apologize and make amends.
So, for all intents and purposes, I am a regular guy. I am nice to animals and children and old ladies and if you infringe on my boundaries I will be polite when letting you know about it. I drive carefully and I do not litter.
It is just that when my heart reaches out to touch a woman, when I smell her and something in me tells me that I want her all around me, my claws come out. I cannot help it.
No, that is not true; yes, I can. I can indeed help it but I will not any more. I used to control my urges to such an extent that I shut myself down emotionally. There was a time I thought it was better that I felt nothing while making love rather than risk betraying her trust by hurting her.
I feel so cold inside. It is freezing inside, and I need to warm myself. And I know that it is warm inside her. It is warm and yielding and my body is warming after sinking into her but my heart is still so cold. So cold.
But when I smell the sweetness of the breath carrying her scream, when I drink the saltiness of her tears, she brings my heart inside as well. She opens up and with her shivering pain she invites me in. And for those moments, when I control her world, her perception, her existence, she is completely wrapped around me, body and soul. And I feel warm. Finally warm.
In essence, I need someone to feed from, emotionally and spiritually. And I have so much to give someone who needs to feed from me. I have met women who have the same but complementary yearning I have. This is not play. This is not a game on either side. This is not about fancy costumes and shiny toys. This is about establishing symbiosis. There may not be love, but there will most certainly be mutual respect and caring and, most of all, profound understanding and intimacy.
I do not know how to classify myself, really. I will hurt you so therefore I am a sadist. But I will also use you and expect your obedience, so therefore I am a dominant of sorts. In the end, though, I am just me. I do not think I am a pure sadist because I will not hurt anyone just for fun. It is not fun for me. I will only hunt to satisfy hunger, and I am lucky that there are that are women with the same hunger I have. Females of my own species, if you will.
In my mind, intimacy can only be obtained when mutually striving for it. It is beyond consensuality; you cannot simply consent to someone else being intimate with you, you will actually have to be seeking that intimacy just as much. That is why I am not a danger to anyone, because only those that seek the same thing I am are my prey. I need her to be my eager accomplice in her own debauchery, and I would not even ask a submissive to “take it because it pleases me.” No, she has to wrap her own legs, her own arms, her own very body, and her own heart around me.
And that is how the darkness in me survives without being quashed by my morals or goals to be a good and honorable man. I seek my equal, nothing less. She will seek pain from me, she may choose to submit to me, but every single heartbeat spent with me will be her own choice. If she does not thrive and grow and find contentment underneath me, she will never be able to carry my weight.
I assure you, anyone I choose is going to be formidable and magnificent in her own right, not lost or needing to be fixed. Anybody less will simply not hold my interest. It is not something that is visible on the outside; there is an internal strength that is obvious in her scent, though.
I do not care any longer if I frighten people around me. I am tired of down-playing this… this… this emotional disfigurement, if you will. I am open about the darkness inside me and what I need. Any perceptive woman with a pulse will smell it in me anyway. And the ones interested in the likes of me will most certainly not be in the least frightened. That much I know.