Kinky Exposure

Yesterday was a rare day - a day when I had the guilty pleasure of being visible as a deviant.  I blogged just recently about the desire to be seen for what I am - and for a full day, I was, via a leather studded collar Master left on my neck for the day.

It was titillating, to have the work colleague who dropped by, and the conservative women at the library, and the checkout lady at the supermarket, all look me in the eye and know something of what I am.  Seeing the passers-by all meet my gaze felt transparent, as if my slavehood was advertised on my face.  Some, of course, would not have known the meaning of the collar exactly - but they would know it made me different from them in ways they most likely dared not think about.

Apart from making me incredibly wet from sheer exhibitionism, though.... the day's experience also made me think about exactly how different my existence would be if I could be seen as a slave every day.  Just to be looked at everywhere I went was daunting.  Seeing the concentrated way people looked only at my eyes, and were ultra-polite to me, was telling.  I felt dangerously proud - dangerous because I knew that for every twenty people who were afraid of me, there would also be one who might voice their disgust.

I read a blog recently in a psychology site, about introverts and their desires.  The author commented on how much introverted types hate to stand out, to dress up, or to let their inhibitions down.  Now I am very introverted: give me my own company over a crowd any time.  I have always preferred to be the silent one, taking in what is around me, and thinking on it.  My voice is small, and even smaller with a larger audience around.  So why, then, do I get off on standing out in public as a kinkster?  Why do I love to occasionally dress with my tits and ass hanging out like an avid slut?  Why do I love parties where I get to be whipped almost unconscious while a group looks on, or get to suck twenty cocks in a gangbang frenzy?  Such is not the typical role of the introvert.

The only conclusion I can draw, is that I love to be noticed only when it's for the "wrong" reasons.  I wanna be a bad girl - and to be seen as a bad girl.  My exhibitionism is not really about showing my tits - its about showing my wanton depravity.  I just want to say, "I am not the good girl you think I am."

Just thinking about it makes me wet!