What Defiles 

Things That Make Me Feel Unsafe

I do not walk into this blind. These are things that break trust, the fractures that turn ecstasy into risk.

  • Bottoms dulled by drink, smoke, or any fog that steals presence.
  • Crowds that blur kink with party, where intoxication drowns awareness.
  • Those who hide their body’s truths—medical conditions unspoken until harm reveals them.
  • Those who lie about intentions, masking shadow behind a smile.
  • Spaces too crowded, too mundane, where kink is spectacle instead of sacred.
  • Players who haven’t honored their own commitments at home before seeking mine.
  • Liars. Mess-makers. Those who turn play into theater of ego.
  • Bottoms who come to compete, not surrender.
  • Those who wield identity as weapon, twisting community into shield for harm.
  • Those strange, reckless white folx who move without study, without respect.
  • Uninformed daredevils who crave danger but reject discipline.
  • Bottoms carrying raw, unintegrated trauma that explodes instead of releases.
  • Bottoms whose violence is not ritual, but uncontrolled.

My rope does not belong to any of this.

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *