I kink on possessiveness. Sir and I identify within the owner/owned paradigm. And, otherwise, I like the idea of someone feeling protective over me not just because they want to keep me safe, but because they feel like they have some sort of authority over me.
We were out last night – some people from my kink community (YES I AM TELLING MY LIFE OUT OF ORDER WHATEVER I HAVE AUTHORITY OVER THIS NARRATIVE I AM THE GOD OF THIS BLOG) and Pup and I – at karaoke. I had just sang and was feeling kind of silly so I went to the bar for another drink.
As I was waiting to order, this guy came up next to me and we engaged in the following:
Guy: Nice bag.
Me: Oh, thanks.
Guy: I’ve got the same one.
Me: Did you forget it at home?
Guy: You were very cute up there.
Me: Well, thanks.
Pup came over and stood beside me. He leaned against the bar and started playing with my hair. The guy kind of muttered an apology and walked away from the bar.
“Way to cockblock me,” I joked when we walked back towards our friends.
“Well, yeah, I’ve got you tonight,” he said. “Go find him and give him your number.”
I blushed and shook my head. “It’s okay,” I replied. “I kind of like it when you get a little jealous and possessive.”
Which was totally hot until this morning, when we talked about it again, and he started smacking my stomach with his flaccid penis and going, “dibs, dibs, dibs.”
