The Kink Bubble

Most people don't live the life I do and I really do forget that things I find to be normal and everyday are a pervert's ultimate fantasy. Every once in a while, I'll be sitting in a lecture hall, listening to a professor talk rattle on and on about some amazing epigenetic discovery, while I stare into a sea of nameless faces and think, "Wow, none of you have any idea, do you?"

It seems like I've safely ensconced myself in a kink bubble. Almost all my friends, my connections, my life is tied to the lifestyle. No, slight correction, this is who I am; it just happens to permeate through all facets of my life. At this point, I'm not even sure I can reliably carry a conversation with a Narwhal. I'm not even sure how I managed to beforehand, and, when I really dwell on that, I realize I probably didn't. I usually don't speak at all or I say something that would deem me as an improper young lady (in the bad sense).

Now, Narwhals are just that: creatures that I watch carefully as they swim in their gigantic glass tanks, utterly fascinated by their everyday existence. Is that Narwhal there trying to mate? What a bizarre ritual! Their communication just sounds like a series of clicks and calls that entertain me, but mean next to nothing. How do I even begin to decipher?


When did I become a Whale Biologist?