I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so I’m just going to say it. This is my confession. I am a complete fuckslut, and I love it more than I probably should.

People meet me and assume I’m the soft one, the adaptable one, the girl who can switch and make everything feel easy. They’re not wrong. I can be gentle. I can be sweet. I can melt or take control depending on what the night needs. But underneath all of that is something much hungrier. I get wet from being used. I get wet from using someone. I get wet from the simple fact that I can be both at the same time and never feel like I’m contradicting myself.

The confession part is that I don’t always show it right away. I’ll let a call start soft. I’ll listen. I’ll match the energy. Then something shifts and I stop filtering. I’ll tell you exactly how many times I’ve come thinking about being shared, how much I like the word fuckslut when it’s said in the right voice, how I can drop into submission or climb into domination without needing a transition. The switch isn’t an act. It’s just how I’m built.

There are no limits once I decide to open up. I’ll describe the nights I let someone treat me like nothing but a hole. I’ll describe the nights I made someone earn every second of attention. I’ll talk about the filth I’ve done and the filth I still want. Secret after secret comes out once I feel safe enough to stop performing the nicer version of myself. That is the real pleasure of this kind of confession — watching someone realize the girl they thought was adaptable is also the one who will go further than they expected.

I like the power of admitting it out loud. Saying “I am a fuckslut” in a calm voice does something to both of us. It clears the air. After that, anything goes. Domination, submission, filthy talk, slow teasing, rough use — it all sits under the same roof. I don’t need to choose a single lane. The confession is the permission slip for both of us to stop pretending there’s a line we won’t cross.

By the time the call deepens I’m usually smiling into the phone, voice lower, telling you the next secret, the next thing I’ve done or want to do. Sometimes I make you confess too. Sometimes I keep the focus on me. Either way the air gets heavier and more honest. That is what I like most about these nights — the feeling that nothing is being hidden anymore.

So here it is, said cleanly: I am a fuckslut who also happens to be a switch. I can be soft. I can be ruthless. I can take or give. And once the confession is out, I stop holding back. If that sounds like the kind of honesty you want to spend an hour inside, you know where to find me.

Come hear the rest of it. Visit me at thesincenter.com/Esme and let’s stop pretending.