I wrote this piece on attraction before, and I have been thinking about it a lot recently.
You see, a few weeks ago I had a fleeting realisation about how I perceive attractiveness, and under the right conditions, what it raises in me. I got reminded of it this morning when bouncing around on my mini-trampoline.
There’s this trainer in the app I use for my sessions, who I find really attractive. He’s not what you’re picturing, honest. He looks really harmless, not in any way intimidating like Mr Muscles. He is soft spoken, his voice sweet and he’s svelte rather than muscular.
It’s the way he talks that I find so damned attractive; he doesn’t simply tell me what to do like the other instructors in the app. He demands. And then he tells me how good I am for doing it right, regardless of whether I am or not. And I’m grinning and getting ideas about him commanding me around, telling me what a good girl I am. Half formed ideas involving ropes and mild tit torture, and I’m trying to keep a grin off my face right now. Maybe he’d see it through the app, get cross with me and demand I wipe that smile off my face… mmh.
And to top it all, he’s speaking English to me with this insanely sexy German accent, all curt, intense, demanding joy. God that German accent, softly spoken, yet commanding, it’s a killer. It melts me into a pool of pliant compliance.
So, yeah, I’d do him. Well no, I’d let him do me. Properly do me. Because, when it comes down to it, that voice combined with that accent and his knowing natural command, it’s ultimately soothing. He could bind me with words. I know, it sounds cheesy, but I am that easy.
Anyway, I’m digressing. Back to my attraction realisation. Got to give you a little background here.
The Art of Body Language
A few years ago, I watched my man do an important public presentation. He took my breath away with how he responded to people in the room he was presenting his work and ideas to. He did something that I have included in my body language repertoire, ever since. At first with conscious effort and now it comes naturally, I don’t need to think about it anymore.
When someone asked him a really pertinent question, he answered it, and the person needed more to understand him. Without thought, he got down on a level with them, hunkering down and talking directly with them, letting them draw the information from him in a way they could understand. It was so powerful to watch.
I mention this, because there’s this guy I work with now with whom I have used this unconscious thing I do, but the more I think about it, the more I think the effect it had may have backfired. Which led me to my attraction realisation.
Bear with me, I know I’m running around in circles here.
The First Encounter with the Cat
I should point out that I was not and am not attracted to this man. I do however respect him, but before this series of miniscule encounters within encounters, I always felt he was like a tame cat. Sweet, proud and somewhat untouchable.
He was sitting at his desk, and we were figuring something out together. I knew that I knew the path we had to take better than he did, to get the answer we needed, so I did that thing.
I hunkered down by his desk and guided him through the software to find what we needed. It felt natural to be on his level to guide him, rather than stand over him telling him what to do. That wouldn’t have sat right with me, since you know, he’s my boss and all.
He’s a tall cat, and he was sitting back straight in his chair, his head way above mine and out of my direct line of sight. My elbows were on his desk, my chin resting on them, and I realise now, his mouse hand within a foot of my lips. And I was giving him instructions.
We got the thing done and I stood up feeling all pleased with myself. He gave me a very neutral look. Dismissed me with a polite smile and a thank you.
I thought nothing more of this. Then.
And the second
A couple of weeks later, he came over to my desk and stood over it looking down at me from behind my monitor. I looked up at him, and he waited a beat before talking, gathering his thoughts. Or, well, I don’t know.
Well actually, maybe I do. It was there, glaringly obvious. A passing expression frozen for a split second in his eyes. For just that fleeting moment it was there, that speculative, and yeah, predatory and oh, so familiar expression. I’ve seen that look so many times in so many situations over the last few years.
There was this intense reaction in me, and I squashed it before it could bloom. But I’m afraid it came out; a microscopic leak in my body language, in my eyes. Probably just as glaringly obvious to a *cough* trained eye as his was to me. Just as in that microsecond, his eyes were blazing a message at me; my body very obviously responded. And yeah, maybe he caught it. Maybe not.
Now I know I read too much into things, but once a while ago, someone told me that my writing bleeds with my need to sub. And I am afraid my whole demeanor bleeds with it when I’m triggered. So long as I’m feeling safe with the triggerer that is, which happens to be the case with this particular cat.
Imaginings from a Subby Mind?
So, here it is, the realisation. I realised that I react without thought, to perceived attraction in others, if it’s the right kind of incentive and I feel safe. That is to say, I react to the perceived threat of domination.
I was amused by my reaction to him. That in that moment he became singularly attractive to me for that very specific purpose.
But it cannot be; he cannot have sent that message, I must have misread it. And, well, it just cannot be. Full stop. So instead, I attributed it to me just being in a horny kind of mood that day and reading too much into the moment.
Do you though, do I know? Do I read too much into those kinds of moments?
Did he feel that flicker of domination-attraction? Is it just two people recognising their rightful place in the order of things? Or am I just seeing things that I want to see?
I’m coming back to this guy telling me about my subbiness bleeding out of my writing now. There is another person I know who gives me such beautiful compliments on my blogs, and they say something similar, just rather more poetically. When I asked their permission to quote them in this blog, they replied with the perfect example: The way you write about being a subby good girl is always so beautiful, thought-provoking, and the hottest thing ever. 🙂 It’s so delicious.
Obviously I’m giving these vibes in my writing then. But in real life; in this case with the cat, do I imagine them, or don’t I? Are my perceptions valid, or are they just a figment of my overactive imagination and my horny state?
The Third Encounter
A third thing happened between me and this cat, let me give you some background info first.
You know, I’ve mentioned this on Mastodon before. I can’t stand wearing padded bras. In my usual autistic way, I have found a model of bra that I just love to wear and nothing else will do. I have four of these bras on the go just now. It’s the Glossies mesh bra from Gossards. It’s so comfortable because it offers perfect support for my tits, and has absolutely no seams in the cups. My nipples are extremely sensitive most of the time and I hate it when they are rubbing around in padded bras with seamed cups.
I’m not ashamed of my nipples. I don’t deliberately show them off, but I don’t hide them either. Sometimes they’re there, showing themselves in all their glory through my clothes, and that just happened to be the case a couple of weeks later again.
This time, he was standing over me again, chatting with me about some other problem.
His eyes did a microscopic drop, so fast I almost missed it. I’m used to people copping a glance now and then. I fully accept it as something that happens when you’re not wearing a padded bra and your nipples are all hard and glaringly obvious through your clothes. But it usually happens when you’re not looking directly into their eyes and there’s usually an embarrassed kind of glitch in body language after the event. Not this cat.
He was unashamed, and I could have sworn there was something more there, in that split second, in the fact he immediately caught my eyes again with his, with no chance for me to check how broadly I was advertising the fact that, yes, I do have a pair of nipples right then.
I felt them hardening even more.
He did not look down again.
I will never know, because this is a hard boundary, and one I will not cross. But, I begin to suspect that the cat is a facade, that in this particular case, there’s something a lot more scary and deeper in nature lurking underneath.
Or maybe it’s just nice for this particularly imaginative sub to imagine there is.