On a whim I am writing this post from a word given to me by a friend. Jump. Hardly as entertaining as the word boobies my wife handed me the other day, but a word that may hold just as many sentiments and feelings.
The initial response to the word jump will always have me wanting to hear "how high?". That is who I am. I don't expect people to jump for me, I expect those who commit to that position to want to ask the question. I am a leather Daddy, a Dominatrix, a skilled Top. So yes, jump takes me to a place where submission is beautiful and "how high?" is natural.
The word jump also brings back haunting memories of how many times I thought ending my life was the answer. It reminds me of hopelessness and helplessness. Of struggles no one knew I was going through, and ones I couldn't even understand myself. It takes me back to a time of loneliness, drug addiction and failed suicide attempts.
Jump also reminds me of youth. Maybe because my youth incorporated both sadistic charm and complete losses. I did a lot of jumping then. From jumping rope to jumping ship. My childhood held many typical moments and far too many that were unnecessary.
And what post would be complete without some racy questionable references?
Of all the ways I use the word or action of jump......"jump up here on Daddy's cock" is surely a contender for favorite.
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