No Possum

They’ve already started in with their mind games and their intimidation tactics.  Saynine‘s told me I’d better have my ‘big boy pants’ on, Roxy‘s heating things up with a week of orgasm restriction accompanied by hot pictures and special recorded messages.  They’re thick as pervy thieves with their plotting and scheming.  And I’m being my usual mouthy, sassy, cocky self in answer to all their threats and innuendo.

And, of course, I’m loving every minute of it.

That is not to say I’m gonna make anything easy for either of them.  I ain’t no possum sub, I’m not going to roll over because the masterful evil Dom’s are planning take downs and humiliation and group-gropes and devil knows what else.  On my own, my feverish and ripely perverted imagination have come up with hundreds of possible scenarios.  And I keep thinking of how I’ll react, what I’ll do and say and snarl at them.  But that’s just a way to keep my Type A occupied.  In the end, I won’t know when it’s gonna start (though the mind-fuck portion already has), I’ll have to walk into that dungeon, hooded and blind, and take what comes.

And I am ready to take whatever they throw my way.

I’m experiencing a wide range of emotions about this upcoming debut and introduction to Saynine.  We’ve got curiosity, fear, intimidation and confidence, excitement, concern, defiance, anticipation, nervousness, pride and shame.  But throughout it all is the completely inappropriate but completely authentic confidence that I will win.  No, no, I’m not saying they won’t reduce me to a writhing, begging mass of subby meat by the end of the scene.  Not sayin’that at all.  I’m sayin’, it doesn’t matter, I will win.  If you don’t subscribe to my brand of sub mentality, it may be hard to understand what I’m talking about.  It’s not the kind of win where you get to strut around with a trophy over your head, or a gold medal resting against your chest.   It’s the kind of win where you get what you secret heart most desires.

I’ll win because I’m getting a scene crafted for me by two very smart, very demoniacally clever and sadistic people.  A scene right out of my most craven fantasies, a realization of pent up desires I’ve only just started to admit to and communicate to others.  I’m gonna win because they will push me to my limits, push me right up against the edges I fear to challenge on my own.  They’ll push me up to and across those edges and give me the chance to see myself in new ways.

I’m not a wimpy sub, not a possum.  I won’t roll over and beg them for mercy, at least not until they earn it.  And I’m sure they will.  I will walk into this situation with my head high, my shoulders back and my pride intact.  I’ll leave sore and giggling, fulfilled, wobbly, and victorious.  They will break me just enough, just enough so that we all get what we came for.

Maybe it’s foolish to be so confident, some would see it as stupidly cocky, but I know myself, I know what I can withstand.  I know what I have lived through.  Situations that should have defeated me, should have rendered me a weak shadow of myself, did not.  In the end, I was the winner.  I think of those experiences as occasions when I was tempered, I became stronger through the trial-by-fire, through the hammering, the beating, being heated up and cooled down in rapid succession.  Bullying did not weaken me, it made me stronger.

So this is probably the perfect storm.  The strong, smart, sadistic tops vs. the strong, smart, confident sub.

But I will win, and so will they.

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