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Kinks Change

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Kinks Change

Everything changes. We grow. We move on. Life happens. Change is inevitable.

When I first discovered the world of BDSM, I thought my kinks were set in stone, and my interests would never change. Kinks are about preferences. My taste for sweet iced tea (I’m southern, y’all) has been virtually the same my whole life. Certainly my taste for kink should stay the same, right?

Wrong. Thinking that “kinks” won’t change is like thinking that food preferences won’t change. I’ve always loved sweet tea, but in the past year or so, I’ve also grown to love hot tea. As a child, I hated drinking water, but I grab a bottle of water each and every day – with no complaints. Preferences change because we change.

Imagine my surprise, though, when I first learned my kinks could change. For the record, I haven’t discarded any (yet). I’ve only added. My appetite for sexual adventure and boundary-pushing grows each and every day.

In the beginning, I stared at pictures and videos and devoured stories about different kinks. Spanking made me nervous because I didn’t know if I could handle the pain. Nipple clamps and pinching got me excited because I knew just how sensitive my own have always been. Golden showers and scat made me want to gag. Some things haven’t changed. Pinched nipples are bliss. Spanking, I’ve learned, can be therapeutic. And piss and shit play still grosses me out. (Note: these are my opinions only. If you like something (and it’s legal) go for it!)

But there have been definite changes over the past couple of years. Early on I rejected the idea that I could be a babygirl or little. I thought calling my Dominant “Daddy” was just weird – and too close to age play which I still don’t like. And then I met the man who made me want to call him “Daddy.” When I asked him about being a Daddy Dom, he said he couldn’t imagine it. When I moaned “Daddy” in the midst of vicious fucking, he and I both knew it was right. See? Kinks change.

I remember watching a video of a BDSM scene. The Dominant smacked his submissive’s face, repeatedly. The first time I saw it, I cringed and shied away – but the image stuck in my mind. As my relationship with Daddy grew, I would see similar images (thank you, Tumblr), and each time, my reaction softened a bit. Finally, I broached the subject with Daddy. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered, but he promised to think about it.

The first time he ever smacked my cheek, I whimpered and nearly orgasmed. The next time, I sank into subspace. The third time, we were in the middle of animalistic fucking, and he nearly came when my pussy clenched around his cock with each impact. Kinks definitely change.

The funny part? Some things don’t truly feel like “kinks” – they are simply a part of my relationship and who I am. The Daddy Dom/little girl dynamic doesn’t feel like a kink. I’m a babygirl, and he’s Daddy. That’s not a sexual preference, that’s who we are. Spanking doesn’t always involve a sexual climax, but it’s absolutely necessary for my mental well-being – and nearly always a lot of fun.

My point is that just because you don’t think you like something today, doesn’t mean you won’t. I think that’s especially true as relationships develop and mature. With trust comes a willingness to push boundaries and try new things. That’s where change happens. I’m not afraid to try something new anymore – I never know what I might I like unless I give it a chance.

© Kayla Lords

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