How to mindfuck me

I have had some recent conversations about the intricacies of mindfucking with people… I felt like sharing how it works for me.

I am an emotional masochist. I make no secret of it. My submissive mental space loves to swirl around in insecurity. My ego loves to be crushed beneath the heel of past trauma when wielded by a feminine hand.

I am afraid of so many things about myself. Things that scare me that they are worthy of rejection. Things that terrify me and make me afraid of being ostracized, ruined, and alone.

I have memory after memory of events that made it certain that I would never be comfortable with myself. I spent much of my life compensating. Yes, I developed skills simply to combat the fear that inadequacy will keep me lonely and miserable.

I’m afraid that my penis is messed up or inadequate. It was out of fear that I did loads of research about female sexual anatomy, convinced that understanding a woman’s sexual pleasure and with appropriate attention to detail, that I could compensate for any potential inadequacy I might have. I trained for stamina. I steeled my resolve. I pursue the female orgasm with enthusiasm, awareness, and perseverance. While I do it for her pleasure, there is always the underlying fear that I will not be enough and this motivates me to almost obsessive levels. I can do it with my hands, mouth, tongue, penis, toys, you name it. I will find a way to make it great.

It can only take one phrase to derail me and shatter my self-confidence, sending me spiraling into the depths of subspace: “It would be nice if you were bigger.” This can cascade in so many ways. It undermines my effort by pointing it out as overcompensation. It questions my manhood. It justifies chastity. It only has to be spoken once and it will be forever entrenched within me, justifying all of my fears.

What separates the mindfuck from cruelty is that I am not rejected because of it.

I’m terrified of being abandoned. My vision of a perfect lover… perfect life partner… was birthed to compensate for this fear. I will do anything to show my love. I will do anything to prove my love. I work with both actions and words. I want her to grow addicted to me and what I offer… so that she will not leave me. I learned to cook. I learned to massage. I will do anything. I will learn, practice, and perfect things in order to be “enough.” I want to be her everything.

Again, it can take only one phrase to bring my fear to the surface and space me: “It’s cute how you think your devotion makes you worthy of me.” This sets me into a panic. I can’t relax. I can’t lapse for even a moment. I can be pushed and pushed and pushed and I will frantically meet every expectation… like my life depends upon it.

I’m hesitant to share this last one because I find it embarrassing to talk about, mostly because it hits me on so many levels of insecurity, some of which are rooted in childhood trauma, others in the guilt, shame, and doubt that compounded over the years.

I’m terrified of the fact that being ordered to wear a girl’s hat and earmuffs triggers me to such a deep subspace and arouses me. For years I adopted the “tough guy” stance. To this day I don’t wear any type of hat in winter and I live in a very cold climate.

There are a number of ways to mindfuck me about this.

• I can be called a sissy. I don’t want to believe that I am one but I am afraid about it.
• I can have my masculinity called into question. This one is pretty obvious.
• I can have my sexuality called into question. This one isn’t kind but if I was secure, it shouldn’t bother me.
• It can be pointed out that the styles that trigger me are impractically girly. I don’t know a single woman that would dress in this way. This makes it even more pathetic/disgusting.
• It can be pointed out that my arousal makes me pathetic and disgusting. It’s hard to feel secure about anyone wanting me with this knowledge.
• I can be told this makes me less than a man… and less than a woman. I’m below everyone.
• I can be taken out in public (or the threat of this) and forced to see people’s reactions to me.
  I can be taken shopping for said items and forced to acknowledge if they trigger me or not.
• I can be outed (or the threat of this) to her friends and see their reactions.

All of these things drive my subspace wild on different levels. I experience massive amounts of controlled anxiety and topple deeply into space, completely helpless. It really takes very little effort.
There are more ways to mindfuck me, but if I had to prioritize things, these would be the big three.