Dancing at the Edge of Trouble

It's not a thing most people notice unless they know me well, but I've got a bit of a wild streak. Fortunately, my pragmatic and analytical sides are generally the ones in charge, so I've rarely ended up in TOO much trouble because of it. Generally, I'm able to keep myself in check. But it's always there, a rarely-tapped reservoir of tumult just waiting to bust loose.

I think it likely that this is a good part of the reason I'm drawn to BDSM. The S/M satisfies the urge to be unleashed, yet the D/s ensures that there's someone besides me keeping an eye on the wild thing. Because that wildness can feel unstoppable. Tempting, alluring, and seriously addictive, I've tasted it and know I could lose myself in it for a very, very long time - if I let myself. But that's a life out of balance, lacking in harmony, and not how I choose to be.
I need my frenzy tempered by control.

Usually.

Yet, every now and again, something comes along that calls to the wild one inside. Like a child drawn to a hot stove, I move in, testing the limits, poking a finger over the perimeter, then snatching it back before anyone notices. Soon it's followed by a hand, then a foot. Over, back, over, back...

I rarely stray all the way into outright trespass. Unlike the child, I am capable of understanding what happens if I venture too far. I know the meaning of the word "consequence" and have a great respect for it.

But each time, I wonder if this will be the time my control fails...