kinky, life, love

Labeling, Stereotyping, Stigma

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– Vixen, I am so glad you dumped Jim, – Dave looked comfy and concerned, white and soft sweatshirt, bleached smile, and smell of quality perfume. – Wealthy guys are screwed up, your Jim has serious mental health issues.

I was in the middle of cutting my veggies for a green smoothie. His words caught me off guard, I froze with a kitchen knife in my hand staring stupidly at a cucumber on the cutting board.  I was offended. I hated and loved Jim at the same time; he used to be part of my life. Dave was nothing, just a nicely smelling dandy in Gucci outfit who tried to stick his nose where it does not belong.

What about yourself?  – I breathed out and proceeded chopping the cucumber.

 – What about me, honey?

 – You are wealthy.

 – I am not one of the freaks you used to be with, I value my soul over money. I would rather be in a forest than the Ritz Carlton. I have always been like this.

 – Who told you Jim uses Ritz?

 – Are you defending him?

 – I am not discussing him with you.

 – Why? I thought you trust me.

 – Dave, please…. Mind your own business

He had a fancy blender, perfect for smoothies and veggie soups. I took the lid off ready to put the cucumber in and felt Dave with my back.

 – You are in my house, and you are teaching me how to behave, – his voice got suddenly low and ice-cold. I shrugged my shoulders not bothering to turn around.

 – You gotta understand Vixen, I will do anything to please you, but you should be respectful and open.

 – Ok, – I reached for a tomato, he was still standing behind. “His blender is big and multi-functional, I want it, maybe I should ask him to give it to me… ”. The thought was kinda weird given that Dave seemed to be quite disappointed. Asking him was for anything at this point would be a waste of time.

 – I am talking to you, Vixen. Stop cutting your rabbit food and look at me.

I slowly turned, my irritation was growing. He gave my food a weird name. Jim loved my vegan dishes and always supported the idea to write a recipe book.  Dave made fun of all my efforts to make money. He considered me way too immature for it.

What do you want from me, Dave?  – he was too close, his perfume was too strong, chokingly strong. I felt sick to my stomach.

 – Your Jim wanted you to kiss his feet. It is sick.

 – It is hot. I am a sub, I loved it.

 – It is sick. You are sick too, Vixen. You need therapy, I will take care of it.

 – It is kinky, our kinks matched, the only thing that kept us together for a while. It is over now. Let’s change the subject.

 – You need help.

 – May I finish fixing my rabbit food?

 – Of course, – he stepped away, I added the rest of veggies into the cup and turned the blender on.

My hysterical reaction seemed to make him realize that not all my boundaries can be violated. He was too judgmental and too stuck in his perceptions of the reality. He divided this world into black and white and frowned at any other colors. He called me later, apologetic and regretful that I left too early. But I needed to leave, I needed my personal space to deal with his judgmental attitudes and condescending demeanor.

I came home with his blender that day.

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