This past Tuesday night I had a wicked migraine so I ended up going to bed early. This was the first time in a while where Miss H and I hadn't really had any sort of physical contact of some time. The next morning I woke up and although I felt better, the day turned into one long, giant, trek of hell, and subsequently my overall mood took a nose dive. It was one of those days were everything went wrong and the slightest thing seemed to just get under my skin and drive me crazy. Work sucked, the filter on my big fish tank started making this horrible grinding noise, and the list of annoyances kept getting bigger and bigger as the day went on. By the end of the night, I was in full on hissy fit/meltdown/asshole mode and sex of any kind was about the last thing on my mind. I was a total beast to be around and Miss H, to her credit, tried to put me in a better mood and not kick my ass in the process, but to no avail.
Thursday I was in a bit better mood but strangely I wasn't feeling the kink all that much. Maybe the three day break from our normal fun had snapped me out of my cozy sub space feelings? I was thinking about that this morning when one of my coworkers called with a bit of juicy workplace news. To make a long story short, where I work we are big time overstaffed and yet on our last reviews/audits the marks were quite poor. My particular unit was fine but overall, the entire organization was not meeting performance standards. To rectify this, my big bosses decided they implementing a much more stringent, weekly auditing practice that goes into effect next week. They were not shy about explaining that these audits were a way, to put it bluntly, cull the herd and get rid of the deadweight. My particular job position is for the most part safe (the overstaffing is minimal and they actually hired more of us recently) but anything that could potentially leave me without a job isn't exactly news I want to hear about.
While not in freak out mode, it did put me on edge a bit (which is not the kind of edging I like, btw) and started getting a bit anxious. When things like this happen I usually end up obsessing and panicking and get myself all worked up for a while, I'm a bit of worry wart if you haven't picked up on that yet. Then, something strange happened. I started to get a sudden urge to get kinky, not jerk off in the bathroom to fetish porn kind of kinky, but throw on a dress, fuck my ass with a huge dildo, then wear a diaper for the rest of the day kinky. It sounds odd to be suddenly turned on that much when what appears to be a black cloud of doom is forming over head, but thinking about it more, it makes sense.
When ever I've had a stressful or rough patch in my life (divorce, break ups, etc), the only thing that would ever snap me out of it or even just let me think about anything else for even a minute was my kinky side. Exercising, hanging out with friends, engaging in a hobby I enjoyed, none of those things even would enter my radar when I was really depressed or worried about whatever was troubling me at the time. All I could focus on or pour over in excruciating detail was the current problem at hand.
That or kink.
Not to psycho analyze things to much, but I think it's because dressing and enjoying my many fetishes is an escape from the "real" world for a little while. The more the cane stings or the verbal abuse from Miss H makes me shudder, the more I focus on that instead of my other problems. It's not like an alter ego, but it is nice to sometimes step into the role of a sissy whore and allow my priorities to switch from paying the mortgage, making sure I have a job, and keeping an eye on my cholesterol levels, to seeing how long I can stand being mummified in plastic wrap, enjoying the feel of Miss H's strap-on, and hoping she'll release my cock cage long enough for me to pathetically fuck my fleshlight while she ignores me and reads a book. Some people use alcohol or drugs to escape for a while after a rough day, I guess I prefer putting on some silky stockings and dressing like a horny little slut.
Looking back, for as long as I can remember, stressful situations always kicked in an even more intense need to dress and get kinky then usual. It's not that when I'm happy and comfortable I don't want to get kinky, in fact quite the opposite, but when things get stressful it just gets pushed up a notch. All things considered though, if that's the worst thing that happens and all it takes is a butt plug and orgasm denial to recalibrate my emotions on occasion then things could be a lot worse. I'll take vinyl dresses and sissy maid outfits to anti-depressants any day.