The weird one

“You need to Y jack with Tricia. She’s one of our best agents, a little weird but great customer service.”
Huh. Thanks, I guess. I actually like my job. I’m slowly realizing that I want to do something meaningful that I can feel good about, but that this job is not a bad one to have. Being tagged as “the weird one” is confusing but not uncommon. 
I’m used to being the quirky, offbeat person in a room full of normal people. 

I didn’t think it was that apparent or noticable in a room full of other “weird ones”, though. Huh… I should get used to being wrong. 

I’ve found a set of people that I thought love and accepted me. I crave going to dinners and parties where I can talk about my kids and ask about their family and debate which bondage gear is best in the same night. I love slipping on fishnets and heels, ears and eye liner and letting a few hours slip by watching fire and floggers. 

Andy’s home is full of acceptance for me. Lynda wraps me in her arms and Andy keeps a watchful eye. His home has a laid back vibe that I enjoy. I can be myself. I’m finding bits of myself more and more, lately.

So I find myself at Andy’s with Daddy. I’m among those that don’t think I’m weird. I also want to show him this amazing pet bed. Andy bought it while I was going through chemo and I would lay in it while Lynda covered me with a blanket. It’s the perfect size. Soft and welcoming. 

I have been talking about replacing my pet bed. I want one that’s on the floor, tucked in a corner. Pink and pretty with my Nanny’s quilt bundled up. I was excited to show Daddy this bed at Andy’s house but I wasn’t intending anything other than “this is kinda the bed I want.”
But I climbed on the bed and snuggled in the soft material. On all fours I stretched down and dipped my head. I didn’t fight myself or doubt myself or wonder… I just rubbed my face on his pant leg. He reached down and petted me. This felt good. Safe. I felt peaceful.The nuzzles turned into licks. I didn’t stop myself as my Kitten just slid out. My friend was in the corner watching and said “Don’t mind me.” I rarely ever have attention seeking displays. I’m always aware that someone is watching something I’d rather keep private. This night I couldn’t have pulled my Kitten back if I tried and I didn’t want to try. 
I scratched and licked, rubbed and nuzzled. I sucked the tip of his finger and dipped down to find the skin under the cuff of his jeans. I was going to scratch my way to his zipper, oblivious to our audience. I was moments from seeking direction of please either calm me down or unzip your jeans. Now anyone who really knows me understands what a big deal this is to me. I placed vulnerable parts of myself on display and was absolutely willing and eager to follow through with whatever instructions that were given. Let’s think on that. I was in kitten mode, ready to open my mouth, and was perfectly fine with an audience. Me. It felt right to finally reach this place.  
It turns out acceptance only comes in forms recognizable to the person giving the acceptance. Its only acceptable if I’m a kitten willing to suck YOUR dick. Because having my friend walk out saying over his shoulder “This is weird” was just the bucket of ice water I needed. Suddenly this wasn’t the place I come for acceptance and kindness. This was the real world where nuzzling someone is weird, and licking them is certainly not the lady like thing to do. 

There is the slight possibility that it was an intimate moment that made an audience uncomfortable. I’d think the quip over the shoulder would have been “I’ll leave you two alone.” 
I yanked off my ears and stood up willing the prickling of tears to dry before they fall. I’m thankful for the arms wrapped around me and the reassurance I felt as he held me. I’d be lying if I said the entire experience wasn’t tainted because it was. I thought I was in a place and with people who accepted all the strange ways we do what we do and are who we are. 
I worked so hard on being perfectly fine with being a kitten, and little, and submissive. I’m finally okay that I’m weird because I have people surrounding me that are just as weird. 
But it turns out, even in this place surrounded by people being set on fire and hanging upside down from the ceiling, I’m still the weird one. 


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