Kicked off

Modern love & The witch
I know myself well enough to name it plainly. There is a sharpness in me. A gleeful cruelty that smiles before it strikes. I call myself a sadistic little bitch not as a confession, but as a recognition of shape. It is simply the way my spirit leans. Even when I have dated men who wear the word Dom like a badge, I do not become small for them. I become mischievous. Bratty. All teeth and sparkle. I test, tease, provoke. I nip at authority just to feel it turn its full attention toward me. I do not submit easily. I circle first. There is pleasure for me in disruption. In knowing how to unsettle, how to leave a bruise on pride rather than skin. Pain, in my language, is not ugliness. It is intensity. It is focus. It is the electric moment when someone meets me instead of stepping back. I adore a Daddy who understands this dance. One who knows that correction is not cruelty, but care shaped like structure. He knows I am unkind to those men on the internet, the faceless ones who wander too close without understanding the danger. He knows I do it because it amuses me, because it sharpens me, because it reminds me of my power. When he calls me back from the edge, it is not punishment in the small sense. It is intimacy. It is grounding. It is being seen clearly and held anyway. But I do not always choose well. Some men want the fantasy without the ferocity. They want obedience that is quiet and grateful, sweetness without thorns. They do not know what to do with a girl who challenges before she yields, who delights in friction, who needs her darkness to be welcomed rather than corrected out of her. I need a man who finds my sadistic little rituals thrilling. Who smiles when I misbehave. Who feels alive when I push, when I test, when I dare him to respond. I need someone who understands that my sharpness is not defiance. It is invitation. So I ask. I ask my demon lord, who understands desire without shame. And I ask the Universe, which loves a girl who knows what she wants. Bring me Him. The one who is not frightened by my edges. The one who knows exactly how to meet me, steady and unflinching. Until then, I remain as I am. Pretty. Dangerous. Waiting.