When the first March Kink of the Week prompt was revealed, I was excited. Edging is something that has definitely featured in my fantasies, and I anticipated being able to weave some of those thoughts into a piece of erotica. What I hadn’t anticipated was how fast the first weeks of March rushed by – so quickly, in fact, that I’m writing this on the last day of the prompt, on the way to Eroticon!
Scratching is not a kink I’ve explored, though it is a kink I would like to play with… I think. I’m not sure I’m doing Kink of the Week right, because I’m actually linking kink to mental health, meaning that today I’m going to talk about non-sexy sex-ness. First, however, I’d like to add a content warning for quite explicit description of mental health and self-harm.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m celebrating with cake and porn and my Doxy. This particular day is special to me – and not just because I can break out my bee-summoning dance. It’s also one when self-care is extremely important. Today I slept late and wore my favourite knickers and wrote Valentine’s cards to my friends – a personal ‘fuck you’ to a society that tells me I should be in a heterosexual monogamous relationship, not snuggling in bed with my girlfriends.
I wasn’t going to write anything, and then the fabulous Cara Thereon published her year in review post, Bits N Boobs. As well as an awesome title, her post includes some very sweet reflections, and inspired me to have a go at writing my own post. I don’t promise the coherence that others have shown, but I have words to say and thank yous to make.
I’m at my parents’ house for Christmas, in a period of orgasm denial that would be a lot hotter if the chastity was being enforced by a dominant rather than a lack of privacy. There are many pieces of festive filth filling my head, each vying to be the next one I write, but this is a piece of personal reflection and private fantasy as much as it is erotica.
Before you read on, I’d like to add a content warning for discussion of depression and suicide.
In some ways, I’m not sure that I’m qualified to talk about this. Other people have tackled the subject in a much more informed way, with greater experience, but after a conversation recently I wanted to share my thoughts. To me, it’s nearly impossible to separate my sexuality from my mental illness. I began exploring my body – or I “discovered I had genitals” as my friend puts it – only a few months before my anxiety and depression reached their worse points.