the angry erotic

i wished he was angry at me. angry, i know how to deal with. when someone is angry with me, i know how to absorb, deflect, or distract in whatever way i deem necessary in order to gain control of the situation. i'm used to angry - i've seen a lot of it in my life - and it's a reaction i'm very familiar with.

it can be kinda hot. i mean, angry and passionate and sexual and dominant can all go in the same basket, no? i can eroticize anger, even when it's misdirected to me (see previous writing re: "grudge slave/fuck"). i like angry, because it's very very dangerously close to something the angry person cannot control. and danger is hot. yes, circular argument.

but my owner is not, in general, an angry man. i can count on one hand the times i've seen him actively pissed off. but bizarrely, i suppose, these incidents are very very erotic to me. it emphasizes my shame, my degradation, my suffering - it's quite the masochistic attention whore's dream come true.

i have little experience with men who are even tempered, for the most part. they're harder to read (read, control). one of the ways my owner controls me is by using his negative emotions sparingly. i hate to admit that, because it's acknowledging that i am susceptible in ways i don't like to see. i fear and desire his anger at the same time, and because it is something i want on that very warped plane of slavish existence that is indescribable in truth,

i don't always get it.