Dear God, no…

I got a text from the Body yesterday, while at Petco with the spawn.  I hadn’t spoken to him since the 9th, and really have no interest in speaking to him (which he knows) so it surprised me a bit.

Body: Hey,  Would you be interested in hanging out again?

I was immediately wary.  Why did he want to hang out with me?  What did he want?  Why is he texting me in the first place?

Me: Maybe.  It’ll depend on when, and for what purpose.

Body:  What purpose do you think it’d be?

Me: I’m not interested in anything romantic or sexual.  I’ve got a new, strict, sub-only rule.

Body: I wasn’t really thinking about anything sexual.  I’m not getting romantic with a married woman. 

Oh, but getting romantic with an engaged woman is fine?  Dropping the L word after three weeks and getting your panties in a bunch because you felt like a booty call is “not getting romantic?”

That’s what I wanted to type, but I didn’t want to get into a long text-argument with him (again) so I kept my mouth shut.

Body: The sub thing is an interesting thought, though.  I was mostly thinking about hanging out as just friends?

This is about the point that cold fear began clawing at my soul.

Oh, dear God, no.

The last thing I need is him suddenly wanting to be my sub.  First of all, he’s not a sub.  Second of all, there is no way he could ever be a sub (yes, I know everyone can change.  Trust me on this).  Even if he were a sub, he’s straight.  Since I’m looking to add a sub to my marriage, I need a bi sub.  Not a straight one.

Third of all, unless his vocal chords were permanently removed, I wouldn’t want him as a sub.  And while some body modification is great, I’m not really into taking it that far.  The lifelong responsibility would be a pain in my ass, and then there’s no guarantee that he won’t still get on my damn nerves.

No, no, no, no, no.  I need to nip that in the bud, before he starts getting it in his head that this is what he wants and stalks me for fucking months, hounding about it.  It took me six months to get him to stop hounding about the cuckolding thing and the having-sex-with-me thing and the wanting-to-date-me thing.  I needed to stop this right-mother-fucking-now.

Me: Friends is fine.  But I’ve already got two subs.  I don’t have time for any more.

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the truth.  It’s still too early to decided which of the contestants (if any) I will take as mine, so I guess it’s technically a lie.  But I would lie to the Pope if that’s what it took to make sure the Body doesn’t get it in his head that he wants me to be his Domme (I seriously can’t even type that with a straight face, the idea is that ridiculous).

Body: Two?  I see.

And I suddenly remembered that he lives with Puppy, and she doesn’t yet know that I’m in the process of procuring another sub, and is she going to get her feelings hurt that I didn’t tell her, and that I didn’t consider her, and did I just make things difficult for kazander by telling the Body, and why the fuck did I get myself involved in this complicated, twisted, gnarled jumbled pile of convoluted up-fuckery in the first place?

But whatever.  I figured I would deal with that as things went.  But at least he knew there was no hope, and I have zero interest in him without clothes on.

A few minutes went by, and I figured the conversation was over, and went on about my day.  Then, about ten minutes later, I got this precious gem;

Body: I wouldn’t mind having sex with you.  Or at least play with your tits again, and I did enjoy kissing you.  But I don’t think the interest is mutual, so that’s not something I’m going to pursue.  You’re* just a friend I miss hanging out with.

*edited for grammar

Dude…  What.  The.  Fuck…

M’kay, a lot went through my head very quickly, so I’m going to try to break it down.  My first reaction was easy enough.  I laughed.  Because come on, that’s fucking funny.

“I wouldn’t mind having sex with you?”

Really?  I mentioned before how socially awkward and unintentionally condescending he is, and this is a prime example of that.  Seriously, y’all.  This is how he talks.  Both via text and in person.  This is why he’s single, despite his above-average face and epic fucking body.

He “wouldn’t mind” having sex with me?  Or playing with my tits again?  Well gee, how sweet.

He makes it sound so awful.  Like scheduling a doctor’s appointment or booking a dinner reservation.

“That was a nice restaurant.  I wouldn’t mind going back.  Or at least getting a couple of drinks.”

I don’t know a vanilla woman who would appreciate that sort of comment, much less any Domme out there.  God, he has no idea how to speak.  At all.

Well, so much for him finally getting over the having-sex-with-me thing.  Damn it.  Seriously, I don’t know how much more direct (or mean) I can get.

And what happened to not wanting anything sexual, or getting romantic with a married woman (sex and romance are one and the same for him.  Yes, he’s a woman.  I knew this from the beginning, and thought I could manage it.  I was wrong)?  What happened to all that?

And, I’m ashamed to admit, there was a (tiny) part of me that was screaming, “Do it, you stupid bitch!  He’s fucking hawt!”

Because he seriously is.  That body is incredible.

You know how the average guy will say his dick is 9 inches, when it’s actually closer to 5?  Yeah, the Body’s dick is actually 9 inches.  And nice and thick, too.

And really, I don’t need to talk to him to fuck him, do I?  Just once couldn’t hurt, right?  Keep my hand over his mouth and pretend it’s Channing Tatum (shut up, don’t judge me… and the Body’s body is close enough to Channing’s that it wouldn’t even be a stretch).

It couldn’t hurt, right?  Just one night with him and his porn-star-caliber body, and then I can kick him out.  He says he’s curious about the sub thing… So I could even use a gag, right?  I could totally make it work, right?

No, you stupid bitch.  Don’t even think about it.  You do not want to open up that Pandora’s Box.  There’s no closing it again once it’s been opened.

Fuck me with a chainsaw, I can’t.  I can’t get into that mess.

Me: Yeah, it’s not mutual.  Platonic friends is fine, but that’s all it’s ever going to be.  I’m not interested in vanilla men or any kind of “non-sub” men.

Body: I never did understand what vanilla means?

Me: Vanilla means someone who is not part of an alternative sexual lifestyle, like BDSM.  “Normal.”

Body: I don’t know if that’s me or not.  I haven’t really had a chance to explore.  I am curious, though.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no…. Be curious with someone else.  It’s not happening with me.  I didn’t answer.  I don’t know how else to say that I’m not interested.  A few more minutes passed.

Body:  Still, I’ve enjoyed our chats and would like to continue them 🙂

Me: Sure, that’s fine.  Got some stuff to take care of.  Ttys

So we’ll see how “platonic friends” works out.  My expectations are not high.

One thought on “Dear God, no…

  1. Zed says:

    So sweet to be a sub… very sweet. x

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