I read a post by Brigit Writes about her experiences with pain. It is a very good post so give it a read.
I have a very strange relationship with pain and it has been an ever present reality all through my life.
It is very easy to say ‘oh she was spanked as a child so that is why she loves it now’. Nope that isn’t it. I loathed it then and if the circumstances were the same I would loathe it still.
The big difference now is the only person I will allow to inflict pain on this body is my darling S. I can trust him to strike me as softly as he desires and he will strike me as hard as I desire. He will never over step my limits or his. This is something done with love never anger. He actually isn’t turned on by inflicting pain, he is turned on by how I react to it. The way I orgasm spontaneously time over time.
I used to be what is called a Pain Slut. Nice name I know. I was trained to be by my first master. The old pleasure and pain cycle can make you accept huge amounts of pain. If you have no safe word you quickly learn to just retreat inside your head.
I enjoy things during a scene that I would never accept in day to day life. Slap my face for any other reason than starting a scene, you better believe I’ll come after you. Darling S. and I have spoken about what is acceptable many, many times. Nothing is left to chance. If he wants to push me against the wall, we have practiced it, If he puts his arm across my throat he knows how much pressure I like. I love this rough play but it isn’t much to do with pain. I just like roughhouse playing. He knows I don’t like being punched or kicked, anything really like a bar fight really. We are Primal, not brawlers.
I am a fan of having my hair pulled. Again we have practiced. The thing to remember is NEVER yank the head back because you can do a lot of permanent damage to the neck. Also my hair, when it is long is used in bondage. When braided it makes a great anchor point.
I find pain sharpens my senses. It makes my heart beat faster, it makes my nerves heat up until they are on fire. Pain takes me to different places but most roads lead to sub space. Darling S. has to watch me like a hawk because I never tap out. I adore what happens to my body when pain is applied to it.
What I can tell you is, this isn’t anything to do with any kind of mental illness. Even though BDSM used to be considered a mental illness it has nothing to do with mine. I fly when I feel the sting of the lash. It uplifts me and I feel like I am soaring among the clouds. I orgasm without any touch of my sexual centres. It is something dragged up from my boots and explodes through every cell of my body.
There is unacceptable pain for me, as I think most people will tell you just the same. We tend to pick and choose what we like. I don’t like the soles of my feet beaten. That is just torture and a pain I can’t absorb. I also don’t like positional pain that puts stress on my joints. Most tools used to spank, flog, whip and beat are fine but I am nervous with large whips, canes and any tool that draws blood. Blood is a hard limit of mine.
The biggest turn on for me is knowing I can completely give myself to the moment because I trust my darling S. completely. I am not the one that decides to call a halt to this aspect of our love because S. is the one that can see how I am fairing. He calls the shots. I know that might sound alarming but it isn’t because S. has my welfare in mind. He has never even got near to my limit and I am glad of that. What we share is just about perfect.
Now a paper cut will have me moaning all day, go figure…