Wednesday, February 17, 2010
I wrote a few days ago about how I came into kink in a backasswards way through an abusive relationship. One memory from that period has haunted my life for so many years, that to this day, I can still go catatonic and stop breathing when I'm even reminded peripherally of that incident.
I made a lot of mistakes with my ex. Things I didn't even realize at the time were mistakes. He was the sort of asshat that would hold things that I told him in reserve, and pull them up later to make me cringe. One of the things I told him was that I was afraid of spiders.
Lots of people have arachnophobia so that in and of itself isn't so weird. And at the beginning, mine wasn't bad enough that it prevented me from killing the little bastards when I saw them. I avoided them, but if one came near me, I was able to squash it under my heel.
But my ex delighted in scaring the hell out of me for fun. His fun. Certainly not mine.
We'd been playing one afternoon. It started off normally. He cuffed me to the bed, put a blindfold on me, and started to drag things across my body, making me guess what each thing was. Some were hot, some cold, and some were soft or scratchy. No big deal right? After a while he tired of my giggles, my squirming, and my complaints about the blindfold. He gagged me to stop the bitching. What I didn't know was that he was also getting back at me for something that I hadn't done properly a few days before. And for those that like details, it was that I'd forgotten to buy spaghettios at the grocery store. I can't even smell those things now without throwing up.
He left me tied to the bed and told me he had something special for me. And while I was lying there, bound to the bed, blindfolded, and unable to escape, he put a tarantula on my pussy. Then he took off the blindfold. I looked down to see what he'd put there. And all hell broke loose.
As anyone who knows anything about spiders might know, tarantulas are very sensitive to movement, stress hormones and a naked woman thrashing about and screaming through a gag. The spider began crawling up my stomach, then onto my chest and finally stopped at the base of my neck. Whether or not it went anywhere else, I'll never know because by that time, I'd passed out. I was so scared, that the only way I could escape was to take a nose dive into unconsciousness.
Over the years, I've told people about my fear of spiders. That is Number One on my list of hard limits. And anyone I spend any time with, especially those I play with, know that they shouldn't EVER tell me that there's a spider near me. I've actually crashed a car because of a spider crawling on the windshield. People often "pooh pooh" my fear and don't realize just how awful it is for me. Until they see my reaction that first time. Then they believe it.
Even Daddy, despite the fact that I'd warned him, was surprised by it. He didn't make the same mistake a second time though.
Why am I telling this story? Well, recently my Fetlife experience has been pretty awful. I've avoided it for days at a time. Simply because people have all of a sudden decided that pictures of spiders on women's naked bodies was either really gross or really cool. And those pictures have been popping up on my friend feed for weeks. It's gotten so bad that I'm having nightmares again. And I'm afraid to visit a site that's been really awesome for me.
When I told Daddy what was happening, in typical geek fashion, he thought of a way to fix this for me. I can't tell you what that means to me. I cried when he did it. That he took the time to fix this for me instead of just telling me to just suck it up (as so many others have done). is more proof of his love for me and of his care for my happiness than anything that anyone has ever done for me before. He knows my fears are real. And he has helped me deal with them in the only way he really can. His post on Fetlife explains what he's done. And why.
Thank you Daddy. You really ARE my sthpider sthlayer :)
Posted by W at 7:26 PM