That feeling...

I've got that swoopy feeling in my tummy. You know, that squirmy, oh oh I'm in trouble, eeek feeling.

It started with a cheeky email, sent to that person, after a few glasses of fizz. It was bratty and provoking and he responded on form. Surely time to back down? Oh no, I haven't felt bratty in a long time, best to go all out, not leave him in any doubt of my intentions. Hence, I bravely declared that he didnt scare me: oh no, not a bit.

But sometimes he knows me better than I know myself. Today there was a short message: "I expect you've been regretting this. If not, you will." Not a threat, you see, but a promise. Now I'm properly scared; deliciously so. You see, I haven't felt properly scared in a long time, wouldn't let myself be. So yes, I'm worried that my bratting will be dealt with, know it will hurt and that I'll be crying regretfully. But at the same time I'm welcoming that feeling, so long absent.

And enjoying that feeling whilst still being properly scared is the delicious contradiction of consensual kink, right?