Friday.

Friday as a psychological construction of the 9 to 5er that causes elation. Of which I belong to. Hence the elation.

Not a lot of elation, actually. More of a relaxation.

Going to some pole dancing/fashion show event tonight. Poolside at a hotel in Hollywood. This could either be really great or incredibly lame. I'm expecting lame, so I won't be disappointed if it is, and if it's great, then I'll be all sorts of happy-thrilled.

Was talking with PD on my drive home from a birthday party on Wednesday.

See, I sent an email in response to his email that I posted a few days ago, per his request. My reactions, physical and mental. And then he responded to that, which I believe was spurred by our little unplanned play session in the previous post. We didn't expect to be doing that, but... it happened, and it was wonderful. And it lets us both know that we've got a ways to go before we hit a wall of physical limitations on my end. My brain, my body, was nowhere near being pushed to my limits.

And I'm finally with someone who can likely play as hard as I want to play.

Most guys, as I've complained in the past, are so afraid of hurting or scaring me.

Which is why, out of all my adventures, only one man (Riot) has ever come close to being as rough as I wanted. He was fabulous.

But where I'm going with is this: in his email, he spoke about the urine thing (my distaste for it and his apathy for my distaste) and how, in his experience, of all the girls he's done that with, only one actually liked it for the action itself, and how all the others just wanted to be made to feel like the filthy whores they were.

That's where my psychology and their psychology parts ways at a quick clip.

I've done a lot of things in the past decade. Some have been wonderful, soft, and loving. Some have been incredibly stupid and occasionally degrading. Others have been rough and wild. Really, each experience is different, it's just the degrees of difference that separate them.

While I was walking the gutterskank path between 16-18, before I pulled myself out of my nosedive, I did my best to be used and wrecked by my partners. My best towards self-destruction and destruction of concept of sacred sexual activity. But I never felt like a slut. I'm sure I was called a slut, a whore, a cum dumpster, whathaveyou. Never felt like it. I think I was too busy wallowing in anger and depression.

Or maybe I'm just not geared that way.

What I've done in the past, what PD and I will do in the future, of the reasons it excites me, none of them include that I'm being made to feel like a filthy whore. Cock gobbler. Whatever.

To feel that way about being forced to engage in sexual behavior (whether you enjoy that behavior or not)... it means you have to feel wrong about it it. That something about the behavior is wrong, that participating in said behavior is wrong, that the only way one can really let go and enjoy it is to be forced so you don't feel the shame.

Because you can't take responsibility if someone's forcing you.

So you can act on your desires, keeping your self-concept sacred, even though you are the one willingly signing up for these actions, knowing what you're getting into before you do it, that buffer is still required for internal image stability, lack of guilt, lack of self-division.

Meaning that there is a belief that your behavior defines you, more than your own perception of self.

Meaning that the idea of how such behaviors are viewed by "society" has more of an impact than how such behaviors are viewed by oneself.

So there ends up being this separation of sexuality and self. The ideological dark and light halves. When you step into a bedroom, a dungeon, a dark alley, you shed who you are during the day, and another person is required for you to fully explore your desires. Because you can't admit them to yourself, can't admit them to others, don't want to confess to the things that your brain creates when you're driving towards orgasm.

Many reasons. Many people.

Is it because wanting these things is viewed as some sort of psychological damage? Being touched by an adult as a child. Being raped. Not enough love as an infant. Some defect that to accept one's own sexuality would be, in a way, a devastating confession?

And then, on the other side, you've got the lifestylers that are so rabidly in your face about their sexuality, their ideas, what they do that their entire self-concept is built on their idea of sex.

I think that speaks of discomfort, to be so socially aggressive about anything. A shield, again, for many things, for many people.

On a Game/PUA level, this is can be reduced to a simple need of sexuality, vanilla or otherwise. These girls have desires, desires they cannot engage in because to do so would cause shame. To admit to would be to cause shame. So they fall onto another person to draw those things out in them, to exorcise their sexual needs, someone to lead and control, to center and blame if need be.

It comes back to responsibility.

Wishing to engage in behavior, but being unable to do so without feelings of shame, so finding another person to take on that responsibility. Not just the responsibility of taking action, but responsibility for one's own actions.

He was charming, he was seductive, he said all the right things, he confused me, he got in my head, he made me feel this way, he was so experienced.

Never acceptance. Never, I was young, inexperienced, fell in with someone, I didn't know any better, but it happened, I did these things, I feel silly now, but, hey, that happens. We're young, we make mistakes. It does not make me "x".

"X" equaling whatever sexually degrading term that springs to mind.

So PD's emailing about these women, and he's been with a lot of women, that need to be made to feel like filthy whores, and my brain just sorta stops.

Because I'm likely never going to feel like a whore. I don't have that need, I don't think I have that capability.

Because what I do, what I have done, what I want to do, I feel no shame in admitting. I feel there is nothing wrong with wanting to engage in the behaviors I desire. And if PD ends up doing exactly what he emailed me and I'm sitting there swallowing mouthfuls of semen and piss while he backhands me, hating the fact that I'm ingesting urine, dripping semen out of both orifices, the only thing I'm going to be getting off on (psychologically) is that I'm with someone who can put me in a situation where I am sexually powerless.

Because that, that doesn't happen often.