"I imagine, if you are like me, you KNOW your place. It is just that you cannot FEEL it when your body does not get the feedback it craves. It is the sensory deprivation that is difficult to manage if it goes on for very long... a feeling that comes to resemble the beginning stages of starvation...."
swan was right..... i DO know my place. i am - for the most part - quiet when i should be quiet, i try extremely hard to NOT top from the bottom, i follow task lists left for me for the days when i am alone, i bow (most of the time) to Sir's needs and wants and ignore my own... because after all any good submissive/slave will tell you - her needs are always secondary to the Doms.
BUT should they be?? what happens when the sub's needs are so far down the list of priorities that they seem inconsequential?? When the only time left for her needs are late at night.. or squeezed in between this and that?? what happens then to the submissive's mind set?? Is this not a form of sensory deprivation??
Sensory deprivation is something that is often used in BDSM circles.. hoods, white noise, gags, blindfolds, cupboards. It is all quite exciting and fun. BUT the type of sensory deprivation swan was talking about and made me sit up and take notice has very little to do with toys.. it has a whole lot to do with just being ignored.... or the submissive part of me. And that submissive part of me is having a major melt down.
Saturday evening scared me. Scared me silly. Sir brought up the wooden paddle with the holes.. the one that hurts like the dickens and leaves my ass as hard as a rock with deep tissue bruising.
He also brought up the crop .. the one that stings and bruises (if i am ever gonna be bruised that is the one that will do it!)
He started with the paddle .. pat pat pat .. WHALLOP.. pat pat pat .. WHALLOP......over and over. At first it hurt.. but i didn't cry out.. it was making me angry. It was making me mad. And then it made me cry... not because it hurt.. but because i wanted more and more and more and i knew from the clock i wasn't gonna get it.
Then Sir switched to the crop and it wrapped a little bit and caught the side of my thigh a couple of times and i yelped and pulled away. But i quickly went back to my place over the footstool - because i just didn't care. and that scared me. And i think my reaction was worrying Sir too because in mid stroke He stopped and told me to come and hug Him.. and i did.. and i asked if it was over and He studied me and told me to resume the position and i did. And it started all over and in my head i kept thinking "why doesn't this hurt??" because it wasn't. and that scared me. It was like the pain inside of me was so much greater than the pain Sir was giving me. And that scared me.
i don't know what is wrong with me.. i do know swan's comment about sensory deprivation makes as much sense as anything else i have come up..............
i also want it noted - publically - that i love this man i call Sir with my whole being...... i know His faults and His foibles and His good sides... and love Him because of all of it, despite all of it.