the life and musings of a kinky slut


It was cold enough that I slept with a hat on, my comforter draped over my face.

When I woke up, it was still chilly.  I let myself snooze under my covers for a spell.

But then I remembered the book.

I’m reading an erotic novel for a book review to be published on this blog in one week.  I won’t give anything away just yet.  But what I will say is this: though I was worried I wouldn’t be able to finish reading it before the review was due, I was soon calmed.  The pages are flying by.


“A friend sent me a package in the mail.  It’s a piece a leather I’m dying for him.”
“That sounds nice.  Where does he live?”

There’s a reason why that was the first question she asked me.

I recognize it.  Shit, I’ve talked to Doc about it.

I’m really good at keeping people at arm’s length.  At closing off myself.  Part of my latest session with Doc centered around my caution to open up, my reluctance at letting people take care of me.

It’s easier in the short term to incite and nurture long distance relationships.  If I don’t open up to someone, if I only give love but never expect it in return, my head thinks my heart is less likely to get to hurt.

But, over time, I’m left with an emptiness, a longing for a deeper connection than the long distant ones I find myself drawn towards currently.

As always, I’m working on it.


“I swear, if you get your exam back and it’s another 100, I’m gonna slap you right across your face.”

It’s happening again.

I’m taking a biology class as well as a chemistry class.  Chem is at 5pm; Bio is at 6:30.

My chemistry class is a no credit refresher course for people who haven’t taken the subject in quite some time or are at a loss in general with chemistry.

I’m smart.  I know I’m smart.  My chemistry class at times is challenging, but not really.  I read the material.  I take notes, both from the book and in class.  I study and do all the homework.  I’m doing well.

My biology class is harder.  It’s actually worth four credits.

I participate in a study group.  Often my study buddies ask me questions in class or lab; I’m usually able to answer them.  Even though it’s more challenging, I’m getting a 100% in biology currently.

We just had our first lab exam today.  It was harder than I thought it would be.  I know I stumbled on a few questions, but I anticipate I earned at least a B.

When I left the lab, I kept telling myself I’d be okay if I just got a B.  I voiced this concern to my study buddies, who themselves were nervous about the test.  And then one of them said that.

It’s not the first time someone has been almost hostile towards my intelligence.

I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it does.  I know he meant it jokingly, but it’s stuck with me for the past four hours.

Moments like that are why I’m hesitant to tell people how I did on a test.  Why I don’t brag about my accomplishments.  I feel like I need to lessen myself to make them feel comfortable.

But fuck that shit.  Fuck him for saying it.  Fuck anyone for being pissed that I did well.  I put in the work, motherfuckers.  I put in the work.

In just over two months, I won’t see any of them again.  I’ll move on to the next science class, a new group of classmates.

How many of them will despise my intelligence?  How many of them are gonna be dicks because I keep getting A’s?  How many times am I going to have to deal with this shit?

I’ve got, at minimum, six more years of school.  I guess now is as good a time as any to get used to the bullshit.

Categorised as: Doc | Emotional | Leather | Random | School

Comments are disabled on this post

One Comment

  1. Shelly says:

    It’s why I always said “oh i just test well.” It’s why I studied for hours even if I knew the material… Cause then I could say I “worked” for the grade, not that I was just smart.

    You’re a smart cookie and we’re all proud of you.