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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Friday, 22 January 2010


You take your kink where you can find it, and sometimes it can be found in the most unexpected situations. I was doing interviews all this week and found myself watching the candidates, become not precisely turned on, but certainly piqued by erotic curiosity. They were nervous. And nervousness looks like excitement which feels a lot like sex. They were in a safe but scary place. A place where they were on the back foot - a little powerless - yet with opportunity to perform, to prove themselves. They knew roughly what was going to happen, but no details, and they were not exactly sure how they would react. I knew that place.

I watched them. Watching their bodies display themselves. Hands fluttered, pulling hair away from the face, fingers twitched, lips were licked. A sheen on the cheekbones, forehead and nose. Voices were occasionally halting, eyes looked down. One even said, breaking her otherwise ice-cool demeanour: "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit nervous." I think I may have curled a little smile that hopefully came across as pleasant and reassuring. Rather than mildly predatory. One had the most beautiful blushes. They appeared slowly on the neck and collarbones, blooming like a pattern of flowers that darkened from mild pink to a glowing red. They looked like burns or scalds that had appeared simply because of the situation we had put her in, that she had chosen to do. The blood rushed to the skin to advertise the adrenaline that must have been pumping around her system.

And there I sat. Calm, confident and in control. There was no overt feeling of power or dominance on my part - if anything there was the odd pang of empathy for what they must be going through, a desire to placate or reassure. But I also wanted to keep watching. More than that, to participate, to help them get through whatever was causing them distress, to the other side of relief. To facilitate the discomfort. Similar to the boy on the rack I wanted to soothe a stranger whilst causing anxiety to them, to pull out all those private responses we keep locked away and expose them.


M said...

From the perspective of someone unemployed for over a year; interviews are terrifying. Interviews could either be the salvation of the end of unemployment and the hope for a new oppurtunity, or another way to feel bad about yourself.

I've had some interviewers where they were distinctly intimidating, forcing me to be almost submissive. In those interviews, i felt that I had to play along to their mind game in order to pass their test of worthiness. I happen not to in most instances. It feels quite horrid. I am socially powerless and that is the worst kind of powerless. I learn to accept it though.

I do admit that there are situations where psychological and almost sexual impulses come into play. For me, it takes place in an intellectual discussion. I must always be the wolf, the dominant one, the powerful mind in a debate, and it is what I live for.

Intellectual discussion can be a battle of egos as well as an indulgent flexing of one's inner strength. Indeed, you take your kink where you find it. As always, I enjoy your posts :)

- C

electronic doll said...

Thank you for that. I hadn't thought of how it might feel for someone with dominant traits to be forced into socially submissive situations.