8th September 2016 - Pleasure in Pain - Leave a Comment

My Mind Wants More but can my Body Take it? – Pleasure In Pain #BDSM #reallife @TalkSmut


pleasureinpain600

So, here’s another insight into my personal BDSM journey. If you don’t want to know the inner workings of my mind, or intimate details of my kinky life, stop here.

 

I’m still working out a lot when it comes to my kinks. What do I like, how do I like it and why do I react the way I do to certain things. Will I react the same way when I encounter things for real instead of in writing or images? And the big question that keeps cropping up time and time again:

Is my brain kinkier than I am?

Maybe it’s part of the fear that held me back so long that lingers deep inside of me. I have had cravings for control, for pain, for kink since I was a teenager but I held it down. Scared of it, afraid of what it meant, unable to accept that those things that aroused me actually did. I mean, how could I really be turned on by a description of a spanking that was meant to provide sympathy for the character beaten not a jealousy that they were getting hit not me.  And why the hell did I want to be put in stocks or trapped in a pillory.  It was a torture, not something to be craved.

This soundtrack still runs in my head, though now I understand my cravings and it’s a much quieter voice of disbelief that whispers these fears in the back of my thoughts.  Most of me now gallops in like an eager pup, waggling butt, digging in nose, wanting and needing to find out what it is and how it feels and oh, just let me at it! But at the back of it is the same old question. How much can my body actually take?

This question came up last night as Sensei was lovingly showing off his latest acquisition, a new Kendo cane. But not a regular one oh no, this is Uber Kendo, at a guess, twice if not three times wider than a regular kendo and really fucking scary.

But I couldn’t stop staring, wondering. What would uber feel like in comparison to the usual kendo strikes? Would it be heavier, thumpier or would the width take out some of the sting?  And my eager little pain slut danced around in glee and excited anticipation of trying it, wanting to know the answers to my curiosity. But we all know what that did to the cat, what could it do to an eager but inexperienced masochist?

And there came the doubts, the fears, the what ifs. I was imagining the beauty of the new pain and my eagerness was piqued even as there was a discussion over if the uber kendo was a weapon or a toy. A weapon. Why the hell was I attracted to a bloody weapon?  The fear sits and feeds on every little doubt and the fear has stopped me doing so much over the years.

I must say however, at no point did I doubt Sensei, I knew I would be in safe hands with him. I almost didn’t ask for the uber kendo though because of the whispering questions of my most worried, most cowardly side, maybe it’s the voice of self-preservation but I suspect it’s the voice of societal propriety and the pressure, real or imagined, to be the perfect, responsible adult.

Senseikendocanes

Sensei’s regular Kendo Canes made by Panda of Love Me Spank Me 

But I did ask. As the regular kendo strikes fell and I was reminded how much they bloody hurt I did seriously reconsider my request. There was a point though when everything, all of me, became absorbed in the pain. Deep breathing, fingers clenching as tight as my eyes, I took hit after hit and the clear clarity of ecstatic agony took over.

Then he stopped.

“Are you ready for uber now?”

I asked for a moments break to gather myself. I’m not sure if that was good or not as the questions poked back into my brain. My arse was hard, tight, aching already, could I really take the new, the unknown, the crazy big Kendo?

One thing I will not do is back down. I wanted it, so I was going to go through with it no matter how scared I was. And I was scared. More scared than I’ve been in my other experiences of being hit for pleasure.

It was a deceptive hit. At first it really did feel as if it wasn’t as bad as the thinner kendo but then the gentle throb turned into an intense ache and I realised oh, it was worse. And the next stroke was different again. The position of the hit, the pressure, the intensity. I don’t remember the order but I do recall the hit that felt as if it expanded across the full width of my bottom and the three that fell on exactly the same damn spot. Each one driving me further and further into submission. It hurt with a sharp explosion and a lingering burn that I wanted so much more of and needed relief from all at the same time.

I didn’t call out a stop but I did at one point (after the 3 on the same bloody spot) say I wasn’t sure I could take more. Then after a little trotting and wiggling. I bent again over the cage and asked for more.  The Pain slut took control.

Sensei would only give me one more strike. I think he had seen I was close to a limit and for his perception I’m very grateful. For that and his hand as I walked wobbly up the stairs and his watchful eye as I sat in dizzying, delightful bliss. My curiosity allayed.

I still don’t know the answer, I might never truly know if my body is as kinky as my mind and if I can take all I’m curious about but damn it, I’m not going to stop trying to find out.

senseibday5916eveningcloseupbruise

Leave a Reply


» «