My whole sex blogging life is exhibitionism. From what I put out in words to the photos I share. It’s all about putting me in the public eye.
I enjoy it. I thrive on feedback. I love compliments, who doesn’t? But the best is when something I write or a photo I take resounds with someone else and for a moment, however brief, we connect.
Connection. That’s what it’s all about.
And as much as I love my online exhibitionism, it only provides a limited amount of connection. I miss flaunting my exhibitionism out in the wild.
Today, I had this photo in my facebook memories. From the Smut Market Afterparty this time last year. I’m happy. Flaunting what I’ve got. I honestly don’t remember if I got a beating that night, but you know, it’s a good bet I got something.
I can see the sparkle in my eye, the joy of the event, the joy of showing off.
I miss that. I miss having an audience as I’m beaten. I last had that back in February when three beautifully mean men beat me in front of friends at Miss T’s.
I don’t always want an audience, I enjoy my kink in private too but I adore showing off sometimes. I love the faces of people as I take hits that involve a run up. I love the gasps, the giggles, the exclamations. I revel in the attention.
Please note, I always take pains to inform people around that I am a huge pain slut with a high pain tolerance when I’m letting my masochist have the audience she craves. I make sure people know that I’ll be taking an extreme beating. Consent is so important, voyeurs need to give consent too.
In beatings where I’m indulging my exhibitionist side, the crowd watching on is nearly as important as the people beating me. I say people, because more often than not it’s a group activity. I take *a lot* of beating and we all know sadists are lazy. They often bring in extra hands to share out the task.
I rarely complain.
I don’t need vast numbers for my exhibitionist to feel sated but the more the merrier. I remember a night at play club where Miss T and Animal lay in to me together. We started off in the room alone but by the end it was full of people watching on.
I remember my first proper whipping. Again, the room filled the more I was whipped. There’s several times at Miss T’s I remember Animal and/or Miss T making me scream and bringing people running to watch.
My birthday beating last year where H beat me with nothing but their own body. I can’t tell you how thick the atmosphere around us was with the emotions of those watching on.
I am an exhibitionist. It takes a bit to break through my shyness. I have a lot of hang ups and fears even though I’m much more blasé about throwing off my clothes these days, I still fear the comments that might come from it.
But my exhibitionist helps me past those fears and into a place of transcendence where I glory in the beauty and brilliance of my body.
I miss letting her out.