Monday, June 21, 2010

Masochist me.......

I have been struggling with the label "masochist" for a while now. You all know this .. and yeah I know it sounds a little bit like a summer repeat. But the truth of the matter is.......... people's reactions to what I take affects how I feel. It is wrong....... I know it is wrong - to allow other people's perceptions affect how I feel about me.

S&S spent a long time yesterday working on helping me get over this. They recognize the pain it is causing in me. They recognize that all the "are you ok's" and all the "you are toughs" are working negatively on me. Eventually the knowledge that I LOVE who I am right now.. and that I LOVE the pain will radiate out from me... and I will find just the right "smart assed " answer to give to all those folks who watch me play - much like they would watch a train wreck and then ......... push their insecurities .. their fears.. their whatevers .. onto me. One day I will find the right flip answer.

I know what happened this weekend to bring back the sadness within me about the masochist label. People had become accustomed to watching S&S play with me.. whip me and beat me and have me dissolve in mess of jelly at the end of a play time.

BUT......

this weekend was the first time they ever watched a knife being used on me........ and there weren't even any cuts !! Just the sharp point of the knife drawing patterns on my back....... weaving itself down my back around my ass.. between my legs .. over my pussy... down my thigh....... my moans musically bouncing off the night air.. reverberating across the property.

I know the male S would lean down and quietly whisper "you can say NO - you can stop it" and each time I would shake my head and gasp "don't stop........ please don't stop" and the knife would continue it's torturous journey over my skin. I was in a very good place.... my breath would catch in my throat as I felt the tips of the knife cut a pattern across my breasts - catching the nipples... My heart would pound as I felt the tips of the knife slide inside my clit jewelry and lift it high... higher .. highest..and my hips would levitate off the bench I was lying on - as if by magic.



And then there was the breast beating. Male S had promised me over a week ago, that the time was coming when my breasts would take his beating. And I have been craving it... dreaming about it.. longing for it. And Saturday evening, just before our last play session, he leaned into me and whispered in my ear... "What toys can you take on your breasts??" and I answered " I haven't a clue - let's try them all and I will tell you". Cause that is the masochist in me........ I want to try it once - twice maybe three times and decide what I really love and what I really like.. and what ....... well there really hasn't been a what I don't want.

And so after the knife had drawn it's pretty patterns... with the night drawing to a close, he laid me out on my back - breasts exposed and it started. First his hand slapping and stinging and warming me up...... building up the need ........ cause for me.. the little warm up sparks the fire deep inside me for more and more and MORE please Sir !!! And then the paddle ...... and the leather strap thingy ... and ouch my nipples hurt .......... and my breasts burned...... and it felt so damn good !!!



The masochist me was fed..... contented and purring like a kitten......... and one day you .... who watch as though it was some train wreck ..........will see the joy inside me.. the total trust and love for the couple who can bring me to such highs and hold me safe. And you will learn that you don't need to be scared by the masochist that is ME

1 comment:

anna said...

I remember being at your house and watching you do needle play. I think it was at a time when you had just started to explore needle play. It was the first time I had seen it in person. And I remember watching the needles pierce your skin and watching your face and the way you were breathing through the sensations. And I am sure I was wincing. Even though I knew you were enjoying it, I was still wincing. I was sympathizing or empathizing or wanting to take some of the pain from you... instinctively! Even though I knew you were happy to feel it, I couldn't help wanting to take your pain. I didn't mean it in a negative way. And I'm sorry if my expression/reaction to watching others play has ever brought about negative feelings. And this is exactly why I don't want to watch others play.

I think whatever a submissive/masochist/bottom/slave/whatever takes from a sir/sadist/top/master/whatever is absolutely beautiful. And you are beautiful while you receive what you are given.