Delightfully unique- whatever or whomever I'm writing in consent, romance, and lust.
“Touch is a solid theme”- the words of a dear friend when I was trying to come up with posts for July- well, possibly into August as I'd like to work on submitting at least two manuscripts to publishers in August once Camp Nano July is done. I saved her suggestion because, at first, I wasn't really sure what to do with it. However, as I was reading “Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight” by Sharon Heller, I realized that I indeed have tactile challenges that I didn't realize. Dr. Heller talks in that book about how tactile is one of the earliest scenes; I was six years old when I didn't want my mother to touch me ever. In my opinion, the book does a great job talking about tactile difficulties as not just being “clothing tags make me itch”; if we went by the stereotypes of “sensitive people,” I wouldn't fit them because I'm underreactive to much tactile sensation. I wonder if that's part of why I've made such shiny spots on my keyboard's keys :D. I also wonder if improving tactile sense is part of why I don't need BDSM impact activities to be as harsh as I used to want them.
“Here's the box from the therapy company.” Ziba placed a small brown box on the kitchen table between Happy's and her mats. After joys nod, she continued, “Would you like to open it?”
Happy passed the letter opener to Ziba.
Quick work with the opener and Ziba had the box open. Not too loud. “It's your brushes.”
Happy typed on joys tablet and pushed a button. “Can we try them now please?”
While I'm not working on this WIP currently, when my friend made her suggestion, I immediately thought of “Typing My Love.” Happy (the character who's on the Autism Spectrum in that book) doesn't get diagnosed on the spectrum until adulthood- this also joy (Happy's pronouns are joy/joys/joyself) to avoid things like Applied Behavioral Analysis. Another friend responded to my post about EMDR and skin brushing by mentioning how skin brushing had been awful for them because it was done to them as a child; we talked about the differences between their childhood experience and me choosing skin brushing as an adult. I'm not sure if the little bit of fiction between the paragraphs will be fit into TML, but it's definitely a scene percolating in my brain.
Overreactive to tactile. That one has been a track in my head. Even though I feel comfortable saying that I'm on the Autism Spectrum without a formal diagnosis, I definitely struggle with stereotypes about not liking hugs, kissing, sexual activity, etc. Then I realize that my behaviors with that are rather complex and do include a bunch of avoidance. I want to be hugged more, but not by strangers; I'm good with my Master, my girlfriend, my daughter hugging me, the occasional person at church who doesn't put me off too much. But when others with Sensory Processing Disorder and/or on the Autism Spectrum talk about not wanting anyone to touch them at all? I struggle with that; I'm not sure why, with my former comments. Just because *some* people are okay doesn't mean I'm at all average on this. While it doesn't fit Happy very well either- the idea of overreactive to tactile- I'm pondering when an intimate scene between one or more people with overreactive tactile sense might look like. Of course, that sends my mind to a #MasturbationMonday post in which I showed intimacy between an allosexual and an asexual persons.
What to do when an idea is so far from your knowledge that stereotypes are what come to mind? I don't have any characters already created, breathed into life that hate all touch, even most touch- even Didier, asexual but not sex-repulsed, wants cuddles. I'm glad for my reading that explained how touch is more than just people or things touching one's skin, but also the air, the temperature etc.
I want to ask my readers a specific question now, but words fail me as I write this the evening before seeing my med manager (who I don't entirely trust). What are your thoughts about someone being over- or underreactive to touch?
I'm feeling really off-kilter today; don't ask me why. Interesting inspiration picture, but after writing special scenes for my Master focused on anal plugs, I'm feeling tapped out on the subject. I could easily blame my feeling off-kilter on a bunch of things. Sighs. At least the heatwave of last week broke; at its worst, it got to 92 degrees Fahrenheit in my house. Hey, maybe that means there should be ice in my piece for today :D
Lady Audrey reclined on the blanket, her forearms holding her up.
“Thanks for spending this time relaxing with me, my Lady,” Didier murmured.
“Since you asked for cuddles outside, I had to see what you were thinking, my boy.” She pressed the soles of her feet against his.
“I was watching this episode on Ash Hardell's YouTube channel and it made me think, my Lady. Outside, a nice blanket, ice cubes, and closeness. It's just on the side of wanting cuddles, my Lady.”
Audrey laughed. “Well, outside of AC. I could stand cuddles from you any time you're willing.”
He lowered his eyelashes and blushed, the heat coming in small circles in his cheeks. “Thanks, my Lady.” He spread his toes so she could press hers between his.
“I love your aesthetic choices when given permission for moments such as these.” Her gold nail polish catching a glint of sunlight, she traced bowl's rim as the ice cubes clinked against each other. “Might I use one of these ice cubes on you?”
“Yes, please, my Lady.” His shoulders twitched in delight.
Clasping one cube between her thumb and index finger, she stroked his lips. “Let me know if anything gets too sexual for your comfort.”
“Yes, my Lady.” His pulse increased with her caring respect.
Drops of moisture leaving a trail on his bronzed skin, she pulled the ice down his shoulder and onto his bicep. She repeated the gesture oh so slowly on his other arm. “Your toes aren't feeling ticklish today, are they?” She backed up onto her knees just beyond his feet.
“You know the question always makes me feel ticklish even if I wasn't already, my Lady.” Didier grinned. “Not that I'm begging you to stop.”
“Though maybe not your toes need ice.” She pressed the ice against the sole of his foot.
“Ah!” He threw back his head, his shaggy black bangs moving away from his eyes.
She drew the ice cube away and moved it over her body, clad as it was in a tempting yellow string bikini. Her skin sparkling with beads of moisture, she asked, “How about that cuddle now?”
“Yes, thanks, my Lady. Thanks for understanding me without needing to hear specific words.” He moved onto his side and entered her embrace as she entered his. He rested his fingers against the nape of her neck as the coolness and heat of her moved over him. “Love you, my Lady.”
“Love you.” Lady Audrey pressed a kiss to Didier's forehead.