I don’t trust people, but I get off on them trusting me. Well, I am getting better at trusting Puppet. We’ll see how that goes.
But in general I don’t trust those I am close to to not hurt me intentionally. Because they do, invariably, usually at the time that I am most vulnerable. Or maybe I’m a selfish ass and just making up a sob story for myself. How would I know? Anyway, back to the topic. As I said, I get off on other people’s trust. This may sound sinister, like I would want to exploit their naivete and trusting nature and hurt them in some way. That’s not it, of course. To me trust is the highest praise. It means that I did something right. Probably a lot of things right. Especially since these are the people who don’t trust others easily or at all. Puppet says I am one of the least judgmental people she knows. Woohoo, I am special! Puppet generally knows what she is talking about.
Now, what do I mean by getting off on people trusting me? Well, not like I jack off to someone’s heartbreaking life story. But the feeling of being allowed into another person’s mind, being allowed to witness them recounting some of the most intimate, most painful or most joyous moments of their life, hearing what they never told a soul, yeah, that has erotic connotations for me. Being welcomed into someone’s mind can be just as, or even more arousing than being welcomed into someone’s body.
The first time I had noticed this reaction was really confusing. My mind was far from any sexual thoughts or spaces, and the story I had heard was a gut-wrenching account of abuse and neglect. I had asked the person repeatedly if they are comfortable talking about this painful topic, and they replied every time that they never really talked about it with anyone before, but they trust me and they want to keep talking, no matter how hard that is. I mean, hard to talk about, not… Well, that was when I noticed that their story was not the only thing hard in that conversation. “What the actual fuck?!” was my first thought. “What kind of perversion is that?” Ashamed, I had decided to ignore the sensation, and focus on the story, and helping the person feel safe and able to let go. Puppet says I have a knack for it at times. She would know, she is a lot better at it than I could ever hope to be. I definitely trust her opinions on that topic.
And refocusing worked, as long as the feeling of trust wasn’t explicitly emphasized. But then it happened again, in another conversation. Being told that I am allowed into the inner sanctum of another’s mind and that they feel safe letting me in, and even delighted in showing me around triggered that feeling of arousal, if only for a short time. In retrospect, it makes sense. It is a form of sapiosexuality. Sapiosexuals are turned on by intelligence, and my form of it was being turned on by unfettered access to someone’s mind. Trustosexuality, if you will. Empistosexuality, if you pick a fancy Greek word. Not sure if there is an existing term for this kink. If there is, please enlighten me.
A lot of people would be aroused by an offer like “Please feel free to explore my body, I trust you.” And I am one of those people. Not having had a lot of experience being trusted in that way, not for the lack of trying, hearing something like that is an instant turn-on. Hearing an equivalent of “Please feel free to explore my mind, I trust you!” has a similar effect. In many ways opening up mentally and emotionally is a lot harder than doing it physically. Most people tend to show their bodies a lot more than they show their minds. After all, clothing can only hide so much, while thoughts and feelings can be masked quite well. Voluntarily taking off the mind covers can mean so much more than taking off the physical ones. Not being one for trusting others, I can appreciate the effort and the bravery it takes, especially if behind the covers lies pain, shame, guilt, suffering and vulnerability. What I feel when being allowed in is… gratitude. “Thank you for letting me hear your story!” is often my heartfelt reaction.
Later I had discussed it with a couple of people I could trust to keep confidences. Well, eventually it became clear that some of this trust on my part was misplaced. But in the moment, knowing of my dominant kink, and of my sapiosexuality, they treated my confession like the most natural thing. “Of course you are turned on, you are a master and you work through the mind, what did you expect?” “But… isn’t it disgusting and perverse to feel that way when someone shares their intimate thoughts and feelings with you, without realizing what effect it has on me?” “Did you ever take advantage of their vulnerability to hurt them, or even to get off?” “What?!! No! Well, I don’t think so! I was just listening to their story, and gently asking questions to help them talk.” “Then no need to worry about it. This is a normal reaction for you, and a part of who you are, and as long as you are not hurting others, there is nothing wrong with it.” But maybe there is. After all, isn’t it a violation of consent when the other party does not realize that a conversation turns you on? Seems like a grey area, and not the one that is even possible to bring up. “I trust you and feel safe sharing my intimate thoughts with you.” “Why, thank you so much, it makes me so horny!” Yeah, no, won’t work.
So, there you have it. A confession of a distrustful closeted empistosexual to the world. I deserve your indignation and wrath, disgust and hate. Have at it.