HOT

Know what is hot for me -- turns me on???
 
Kneeling -- picturing myself kneeling at Hands feet.  Yeah I know probably doesn't do much for you -- but me?? god it turns me to jelly.

There was a discussion yesterday on FL that I got mentioned in (which is why I read it -- I honestly have given up reading anything on Fet these days -- but that's another post)

Someone said that you can't be a masochist AND a submissive ..... WTF???!!!  
I can't even wrap my head around someone who believes such nonsense!  I know what I am and no one can change it with some uneducated opinion!  I can amp down my masochism but I cannot amp down the submissive side of me.........which is why images of me kneeling at Hands feet turn me on more than the thought of a beating.  AND yet if I am being beaten I can take as much as he wants to give me............ and absolutely love it.

Mind you (cheeky grin) Hands did mention something the other day about barbed wire wrapped around my dildo -- now THAT I think might just push my masochist limits!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IF I have to do a 7 day Nature photo challenge -- you folks have to see my daily submissions -- only seems fair ya know???

I present today's picture..............

I'm rather proud of my feather floating in the lake .............

The Masochist

My whole body was wrapped in burning heat - pain so glorious I couldn't stop smiling  

My thoughts were focused - like a pinpoint on the pain...... nothing else existed - not even the Sadist - though I could see him and hear him - he was like a ghosted figure in my world 

There was total peace in my mind and my soul - something much more intense than anything I get from meditating - or working out at the gym - more intense than anything I have ever experienced before


AND as weird as this may sound - I was sexually aroused because that is who I am - but in that moment - it didn't matter - it wasn't a tangible thing - only the 'blackness' and I don't know why that word comes to mind - but it was like darkness, a warm embracing darkness that did not scare me but surrounded my body and held me tight.

The Blackness

 (please understand - this is MY take on Sado/masochism!  It is something I try to hide from myself but mostly others.  AND - it is only a small part of me. )


Just recently I have been trying to help people understand the black side of me - the masochist side of me........ 

It is the exact opposite - EXACT OPPOSITE - of what I have with Daddy Dom.  When Daddy Dom comes to visit - there is excitement and joy and light and sparkles and rainbows (ok ok I am being silly)

When I played with a Sadist before - a long time ago - I discovered that I had to work to get into the blackness - into that side of me.  He would write words to me - of what he was going to do.  He would whisper in my ear - when we walked into the play area - all the things he was going to take from me.  

Part of the appeal - for the masochist that is in me in playing with a Sadist - is the fear ........... the tightening of the stomach ........ the fear creeping in - spreading out and filling my body and brain with the blackness.  That part comes first - before the Sadist even arrives - anticipation, fear, nerves - they fill the mind and engulf me totally and completely.

The Sadist thrives - maybe even feeds on - the nerves, the fear, the quivering body bent before them.  They aren't there to please me.  They are there to take every ounce of submission from me.  I submit to the pain to please ......... I even ask for more when I don't think I can take even one more..... to please.  

And when there is nothing left inside of me - and I can't take even one more to please - then - then my legs give out and I slip to the floor a quivering crying puddle of pain. 

And if the Sadist is pleased - then the masochist dances with the fairies and all is well and good and pleasing.

BUT to get there - to that point - there is the mind first - preparing - going to that place that will welcome the Sadist.  Searching out that blackness way in the back - locked behind the light...... pulling it out -  embracing it - and getting there...... sometimes just minutes before the Sadist arrives.  

Because the Sadist wants to see the quivering body that is theirs to hurt.

Internal Struggles

It has been a long time........ a really long time ......... since the masochist in me got to come out and play.  

It took such a long time to stuff those feelings inside and lock them up ....... such a long time. 

And now they're back.

And it f**king scares me.

I remember those days of pure masochism....... the memories are coming back - flooding back.  

I remember the ups and downs of those days........... of loving the pain and hating it  almost in the same moment.

I remember looking at the marks on my body the day after ....... and hating myself.  And then caressing the marks and loving them.


But mostly I remember the endorphin junkie - between play times... I remember the need growing and growing till it nearly drove me mad.  There is no controlling that need...... it is what it is.

I have to learn how to live with these internal struggles ........ again.
  

Finding my bits and pieces Again!

I am remembering why this "dating" thing - this "playing well with others" thing was hard many years ago............. and I guess in some ways I am running backwards while I am moving forwards............ 

The date I had on Friday was a play date - with dinner thrown in - and then more play.  

HARD PLAY 

Long Play

Fun play 

I trust him enough now - to really let go  -- to let my fairies come and coax me out to play......... to let go completely and totally.......... not an easy thing for me to do..... but i trust him that much.

When we went to the munch (dinner) I was quite truthfully as high as a kite.  Mini me said it was like I was a little drunk - I was in good form ........ another friend whispered in my ear "have you been playing this afternoon" .... so yeah I was that high on endorphins.

AND

it wasn't over ........ 

There was more play after we got home from the munch.

HARD PLAY

Long Play

Fun Play.

And in that moment - when the endorphins are coursing through my blood - and my mind is just mush ...... there are no warning bells - no common sense - no judgement - all my inhibitions are down ..............and sometimes I ask for ........... beg for........push my limits - test me - push push push!!

And when it's over - 
when all the hard play is done 
when all the long play comes to an end
when all the fun is over 

He leaves.

And I am left to ground myself........ to piece myself back together.  

It used to be that way - years and years ago........... and then I wasn't alone and it wasn't really a problem.  The day or two after  -- when I questioned myself - called myself names - put myself down ....... W was there to hold me and hug me and soothe me and help me put the pieces back together.....

AND yes I play THAT hard!

It's hard sometimes when you are alone - to find all those tiny pieces that got knocked about and dislodged - to find them and stick 'em back in........... 

hot baths and meditation and soothing music and even chocolate works - until it doesn't.  And the monsters inside are still walking all over my soul............. and I feel lost and confused.

AND I know - this IS what I want - I want to play nicely with others - lots and lots of others.......

AND I know I want to let go - I want to push my limits -- I want to embrace those monsters and defy them  -- I want - NO -- I NEED to play hard and long - I need to feel drained and marked and hurting when it is over.  

I NEED THAT !!


Cause whether I like to say the word or not.......... I am a masochist!
 

Inside the darkness

I have been thinking a lot about this blog entry - I have tried to discuss this topic in the past - not discuss per say - just get my thoughts out there so maybe they would make some sense to me......

Cause trust me when I say - I don't get this masochism any more than the next person.  I don't think it is is something to strive for.... Truthfully if I had my choice I wouldn't be a masochist........ it's just too much hard work - for me and the person playing with me.

Let me just review what has brought me here to this point...........

New Year's Eve after a 45 minute (or so) session by 3 Doms...........

24 hours later

and 10 days later I still have pale yellow bruising....  

Those bruises you can see.  BUT the bruising inside - in my mind - you can't see...... and I think those bruises are the worst!

Let's look at how this works......... this playing with the masochist that is ME.

Step one is to get me past the pain...... and in my addled brain it is like pushing a big rock up a steep hill.......... cause the spanks, the whips, the floggers - they hurt at the beginning....... the soft gentle starts... the sensual touching and flogging feel amazing but it has to build - HAS TO - to feed the beast that is the masochist in me.

Once I am there............ teetering on the edge.............

There is no pain - just pure stimulus.  Enough stimulus and I can and do spontaneously orgasm.......... NOT earth shattering mind numbing body trembling orgasms - but still I orgasm.  AND then you know you have me where you want me... where I want me. 

The pure blinding pain grips my brain.... dragging the beast inside me out to play.  It is so primal that when I think about it after - it scares me.  The beast will (literally) wiggle my ass at the Doms - will taunt them for more and more.  The beast takes control of my body and mind.  

And the rock teeters on the edge...... 

And the pain consumes me......

And then it ends.  Someone pushes that rock over the edge and sends it screaming down............I go from intense pain to nothing.  

P L U N K

hit rock bottom and spin there...........

and spin

and spin

Sometimes for days.

My brain is trying to process the pain that is still happening...... both in my mind and in my body.  

Gone are the soft sensual touches from the beginning........ gone ......... nothing left but intense dark pain.



I have been wondering if - instead of pushing me over the edge by an abrupt end ....... if perhaps there was more of the sensual pain again.. the soft gentle teasing ...... if perhaps there were whispers in my ear - centering my brain - making me focus in the NOW..... if afterwards - some time later - when I can tolerate - when I need - I wonder if I was wrapped up in loving gentle arms........... I wonder if my body was given a massive earth shattering - body trembling orgasm - to release the pent up emotions - pent up confusion........ if I was made to feel loveable again.......... if it would help with the endorphin withdrawal..... with the residue anger the beast has left........... 


Because I do NOT feel loveable after.......... and that makes me cry.  And I vow never again..... EVER.

Until the need comes ........ and the body is screaming for it............ and once more the rock is pushed up the hill ..............

"Yesterday"

 When we were leaving the play party on New Year's Eve - someone - a stranger to me - stopped me and said "you are my hero - 'when I grow up I want to be just like you' " I stopped dead in my tracks.  She explained she had watched the beating... THE BEATING.  When did I become the poster child for beatings and masochism??

Then there was some chatter on Fet Life about the Dom that gave me the hand spanking that caused the bruising.  He came back with a "stop you will ruin my reputation for being a sensual Dom".  Yet he had become a Sadistic dom to please me??? to please himself?? I don't understand... I honestly don't understand.  

I want sensual too........ I want the bruising WITH the sensual....... it used to be like that... now it is just a challenge to see who can mark me.... 

And I wonder - if I tear up my masochist card - destroy it - what am I then?  nothing?  Will I have no value at all?? 

I just know I hate feeling like I have been hit by a truck for days after........... there is nothing sexy or sensual about that........... aren't I entitled to sensual too like everyone else??? Aren't I entitled to warm fuzzy feelings for days after - instead of feeling like some kind of freak??  Aren't I entitled to hear "you are amazing" "you made me proud" - some positive feedback - something other than "did you see the beating she took?!"

And the song "Yesterday" keeps going round and round in my head........

"Yesterday........ all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh I believe in yesterday"

The Junkie

It took me 3 days to fully process Saturday's beating.  Three days !!  And the worst part - I wasn't really sure what was going on.............. yeah ME who has been doing this for years couldn't figure it out.... stupid eh???

On Sunday I just wanted to curl up in a tight little ball and not move - not talk - not face the world...my body hurt - every square inch of it hurt... my muscles my bones - hell even my hair hurt.  But it was all deep inside of me - way down deep - where I pushed all those emotions on Saturday.  There wasn't a visible mark on my body that I could point to and say "see that's why it hurts" ... so who would listen ?? who would understand???

Tuesday - well Tuesday was just weird.  We were up before the sun to go downtown and see this taping of the morning news show.  It was dark and I have always hated the dark!!  Evil lurks in the darkness.  I was weaving around people I didn't know - strangers - and I am not particularly fussy on strangers on a good day.  And Tuesday was not a good day !!  There were dark menacing shadows playing in my head.  

I left the crowds and the noise and I walked down to the water's edge.. found a bench and sat looking out to the horizon waiting for the sun to come up...... waiting for some brightness to touch me deep inside - to take away the "bad" feelings that were boiling up ............... feelings I really couldn't describe

And when we finally got home - I felt a deep sadness - which didn't make a whole lot of sense cause we had had fun!!!  going to see the taping was something I really wanted to do !!!  but I couldn't deny it - there it was - that deep sadness that tears my heart in pieces from time to time.

When I went to bed on Tuesday night - I lay very still in bed - in the darkness.  I barely breathed.  I lay still and stiller and stillest.  I quieted my mind.   

And then I thought - I realized - this was just like all those other times when I suffered from sub drop................. but I had been alone all those other times - to face the demons that are sub drop alone.  This time I had W - and I never told him.  I didn't know what I had so how could I have told him???? 

And now it is 5 whole days since the beating and I can feel the cravings starting again.. the need.  My monster.   And just like any junkie I will start the cycle that leads me back to some apparatus on the receiving end of pain............ and I will fly ............ because I am like that...... I have a need - a craving.  I am a junkie.

 

The Junkie

Hi - my name is morningstar and I am an addict.

I am addicted to pain - to edge play - to the endorphins these activities produce.  

The interesting thing (well to me anyway) is that once I am past the craving for pain I don't even think about it........(but it takes weeks and months for that to happen) and well if I do think about it - it is with fear and trepidation.  Pain hurts - and the pain W gives me can hurt real bad. 

But despite that.........  promise me pain........ give me a sniff of pain - and I am like a junkie - I want it I need it .. I sleep eat and dream pain.  And then get cranky (if you can call that mood cranky!?) when I don't get it.

I had gone months without any pain (real pain) before moving here.  And yeah I admit it I had visions of (daily) floggers and whips and needles and knives dancing in my head at the thought of living with W........... daily - hell I would have liked hourly.  

But we have been busy 

We have had contractors in and about for 2 months

We have had well meaning friends drop in for coffee

We have had just plain off days

Which means - 

no pain 

Yesterday W brought out the new carpet beater he bought in China Town on the weekend.  And almost from the first hit to the last I cried.  At first I cried cause dammit it hurt !!  And then I cried from relief. I needed this - I craved this........... pain and the ensuing endorphins center me - ground me - and - weird as this may sound - make me feel loved.

But it was a hard fought battle to get me to the crying from sheer relief and feeling love.. 

In the interim W had to bring out a flogger and a whip and a knife...........

 
but it happened and those feelings of being grounded in my own skin - of feeling loved rushed through my veins - along with the endorphins..... and all was right with the world again

BUT

I am a junkie........... and the need will come again..........

Thoughts on masochism

I was sitting here this morning - mentally preparing myself for a 3 hour long workshop on "tax preparation" that I must attend at the school Board ( I have to prepare tax receipts for all the families that attend my programs)  And it made me think that I am truly a masochist because I absolutely HATE anything to do with math.

And that got me to thinking about all the toys W has ........ and how my likes and dislikes have changed and evolved.  

I was remembering the days of wooden paddles that used to break over my ass and how proud I was that I could take that kind of pain........ how I used to hate whips and floggers.  How I loved needles stuck into my body..... How I loved clamps and clothes pegs and various other items of torture attached to my private pink bits.  As time passed (and illnesses hit) I found myself happier with a whip than a hard unforgiving paddle.  I found myself hiding my private pink bits for fear W might want to perform some torture on it....... I just really wanted a nice whipping.... a floaty feeling .. and thank you very much I am done.  Gone are the long one hour sessions - sometimes followed by another hour long session - all in one evening.  Whip me ......... snuggle me... and let's move on.  That seems to be the way life has morphed.  Maybe back in those days I felt I had something to prove - to W ...... to myself (push those limits) ...... and to anyone watching. But not now.

I also noticed about 8 months ago I guess - that I didn't drip from the thought of a session with W........ hell I barely got damp even from a whipping.  I moaned I was broken.  I wondered wonder if the lack of arousal from a session had a bearing on how much pain I could handle.  Somehow it seemed that when I would get sexually aroused it made the pain exquisite and wonderful - and left me drained and shaking and more than just a little floaty.  And hell if I had an orgasm just from the pain I was gone for hours.  Orgasms became harder and harder to achieve - even with W fucking me for all he was worth......... I just couldn't seem to have those earth shattering - gut wrenching - squirting sort of orgasms. 

Now I discover I have this "thing" growing in my uterus and I wonder if this is the reason.  I wonder if the doctor can make it all gone if my desires will return.  I wonder if I will ever be the masochist I once was........ or is that only to be a memory.

And I wonder if it is really all that important......... to be the masochist I once was.  I wonder if W will be a little disappointed - though I doubt He would ever say anything.  I wonder if we can forge a new way of doing this BDSM thing we do............I wonder what life will become when I manage to cross the stepping stones.  

    

I am a Masochist

I am a masochist.  We all know that.

But masochism manifests itself in many ways.  Let me give you an excellent example..

I HATE long car trips.  Two hours has always been my limit.  Well Kingston is three hours - so I began to learn to suck it up........ besides the fact W (god bless him) would stop about half way for a coffee break which let me stretch my legs and wiggle my ass.

Last Saturday W wanted to return home from Kingston via the States........ specifically Watertown.  He wanted to open a US post box.  (He has one in Plattsburg - or some other American city just over the border from here) 

So off we went around 10:00 am Saturday to find the border and Watertown.  

EXCEPT 

it was a long weekend in Ontario.  And everybody and his brother decided to head south of the border.  It took us almost 2 hours to get to and cross the border - on a road that had no place to turn around or detour.  2 hours of inching along.  2 hours  of sitting in a car seat not getting to stretch my legs or wiggle my ass. 

We found Watertown and the Post office was closed - it closes - dontcha know - at 1:00 on Saturdays......... 

So we decided to work our way home.  It took 7 hours - from the time we left the hotel till I walked in my door............. S E V E N hours!  

Now that is not what makes me a masochist.  

Nope 

What makes me a masochist is W is taking me to the States again today........ and I agreed...... THAT makes me a masochist......... getting back in a car for a long drive to some distant small border town just to check his post box...... stuck in a car for god only knows how long................. 

THAT my dear friends makes me a certified masochist.

OR

a good subbie

OR 

both.

words are all I have

I kept thinking yesterday that my "Monday Morning Report" sounded (to my ears) stilted - stiff - not at all like me........... 

BUT it is next to impossible, to describe in words, the feelings that crash over my body when W plays with me........ 

and it  frustrates me - me the woman with words overflowing - that I can NOT find any word that describes the joy - the pain - the pleasure from W's whips and floggers and quirts and paddles and canes.  Cannot find the word to open up my world to your eyes - to your emotions - to have you feel the sheer joy I feel.

Not even to another masochist ........... 

Not even to another sadist........... 

These sessions are so intense - so primal - so within ME - that there are no words to clearly paint the picture of the joy .. the love ... the contentment.

Electrified

I have been trying to figure out for the last couple of hours what is going on with me today... I couldn't figure it out..

Then I realized that I am jonesing... I am jumpy and anxious and electrified.

I wonder why some weeks I don't notice the jonesing and other weeks it haunts my waking and my sleeping.

Only a few more hours......................

Masturbation with pain

In case you haven't looked at a calendar - June is quickly coming to an end. June the month I live for.. the end of school - summer vacation... Yet it is also the month I dread....... the wheels tend to fall off the bus in this last month of the school year.. everyone - kids and staff alike - tend to try sliding into an early vacation. My stress builds - and I wouldn't say I turn cranky but I do tend to be more stressed - and that stress can find all sorts of outlets .. mostly crying and stamping my feet ..... and being VERY impatient.

Yesterday had been a particularly bad day and by the time I dragged my ass home I was grinding my teeth. I think someone should invent a "dial a dom" service. I needed something last night to ease the stress...... something = pain.

Over dinner I was fantasizing about this "dial a dom" when I realized I could conceivably create my own pain........ and pleasure.

Now I have to say this right up front.. when it comes to pain I can be a huge wuss. I can't flog myself or paddle myself - well I can - but not with enough passion to make it work. So over dinner last night - I plotted out a way to try and find some pain and pleasure mix to ease the stress - and the headache !!

In the past few weeks I have discovered that I could put nipple clamps on my pussy in such a way that the chain connecting the two clamps was woven over and around the vibrator....... and then.. well I am sure I don't have to draw anyone a picture - I get increased amounts of pain - without wussing out.

But last night I really did want more than that...... much more.

I thought of knives - hell I have been thinking of knives a LOT over the last 8 weeks or so. But the couple I have aren't as sharp as I originally thought when I bought them.......... then I remembered the wartenburg wheel.




The wartenburg wheel can feel like hundreds of needles plunging into soft sensitive skin ........ it can (if one is not careful) even cause some bleeding.

So I went and collected the wheel - and the clamps and the vibrator . Laid myself down on a towel on the bed (cause if it worked the way I planned - it could get messy) ... and got to IT.

I started slowly with the vibrator inserted and wrapped like a Christmas present in silver chain vibrating low and picked up the wheel. I started slowly running it over my breasts ....... going nowhere near my nipples - cause nipples hurt ya know !!

The wheel felt nice - NICE!! I wasn't looking for nice. I pushed a little harder as I ran it over my breasts... still nice.. I took a deep breath and ran it over my nipples. WTF??!! I couldn't feel it. Were my nipples dead??!! I pushed a little harder and got a spike of pain up into my left shoulder. OUCH .. dropped the wheel.

Ok try the wheel running down my stomach over my thighs heading for the clit. PROBLEM !! the chains and vibrator were in the way. UGH!! Besides I still couldn't seem to get just the right pressure to create enough pain...... and not drop the damn wheel.

In frustration I tossed the wheel onto the bed and just concentrated on the vibrator wrapped in the chain.

I will say I managed to "pleasure" myself ..........but not much pain. I had a nice hot bubble bath afterwards .. and can honestly say that the headache left and my stress levels had gone down a notch or two.

I guess there really is no substitute for a good dom with a good strong right arm.

Now if someone would just invent a "dial a dom" my stressful evenings might be more successful.

Whip Review

Last weekend when I was up in our Nation's Capital at a private party, I played with someone new......... no no not new new.. just a new play partner.

He had a brand spanking new - never been used - whip. I rather liked the colour - green and black. I am funny that way - I am quite often drawn to the colours rather than the implement. (Isn't there some squawky bird that is attracted to bright colours?? )

Anyway........

It wasn't the first time I have had a whip used on me. But the past experiences (excluding the circus whip and the vegan whip) haven't left me feeling all warm and fuzzy. In fact most of the time when I have been the victim of a large bull whip type whip - I have landed up with ouchies and marks that weren't meant to be there... In fact those were the times that I heard dominants go "OOOPS" which in my humble opinion is NOT a good thing.

He wanted me standing straight up.... braced by a spanking bench. I had my orders, don't react to the pouffff of the hair... but give him a thumbs up when the whip just touched my skin........ kissed it softly.

It felt like forever before I even felt the pouffff of the hair - never mind the soft kiss against my skin.

And then the stars were all aligned correctly and I felt the first sting of the whip across my back. BACK??!! WTF?? I really would have been happier if we started with my ass.. that is used to stingy biting lashes........ my back - not so much. But when one is standing - braced against a spanking bench - one doesn't get a whole lot of say where it starts.

There was one "misfire" where the whip wrapped around my neck and caught my collar bone - another one of those Dom's "ooooops" moments. And I can say - an oooops with a bull whip hurts like a bitch !!!

But we didn't give in... and back to standing straight... hearing the hiss of the snake - no wait - that was the hiss of the whip - just before it cut across my back and then later my ass.

I was just getting lulled into a sense of "DAMN this is feeling wayyyyyyyy too good" when there was this horrendous CRACK - I thought someone had been shot !!! But before I could react one way or the other the whip cut across some part of my anatomy. I realized (duh moment) it had been the whip making that crack.

Now I am sure - those more experienced in whips than I am - treasure those cracking moments. Me?? - not so much. I rather like quiet play times without the loud bangs that raise me from my reverie - thank you very much.

And the more I thought about those loud cracks........... and the more I thought about the sensations from the whip....... the more I came to the conclusion that a whip is more for the Dominant than the sub.

BECAUSE (you knew I was gonna give you a "because" right??) the crack of the whip... a loud cracking BANG in the quiet of the night ....... draws massive amounts of attention to the Dominant. Honestly no one spares the subbie more than a glance when a whip cracks - everyone's eyes turn to the noise and the person who created such a shock wave. Right then and there I came to the conclusion that the whip is a "show man's " toy. (and I mean absolutely NO offense to those whip lovers out there)

The other conclusion I came to...... is that the whip parallels the pain I get from the quirt. Now I love to hate the quirt. It cuts. It stings. It finally - eventually - hurts sooooooooo good. Much like the whip did. Just without the loud cracks that break the sound barrier.

I think I am a quiet player (ok ok - everyone who has played with me.. or watched me play - I know I know !!! foot stamping, hand smacking, cursing and swearing - is not exactly quiet play) BUT it is a helluva lot quieter than shot gun blasts in the dead of night. I like to stay locked inside my head...... dealing with the sensations... recording them somewhere in my sub conscious for later. Those cracks from the whip ......... well let's just say they kept me on my toes - in every sense of the word

It was fun.......... but I think I will stick to the quiet toys .. the soft lull you into a sense of false security toys....... stingy whippy cutting burning ouchie toys.

i have decided

i am not a masochist.

masochism definition

maso·chism (mas′ə kiz′əm, maz′-)

noun

1. the getting of sexual pleasure from being dominated, mistreated, or hurt physically or otherwise by one's partner
2. the getting of pleasure from suffering physical or psychological pain, inflicted by others or by oneself

i do not get pleasure from suffering physical or psychological pain inflicted by others or .. my god !! by oneself??? Nope.. no way........

i will explain what has brought me to this amazing revelation...........

Saturday Sir beat me over the ottoman in the living room - we discussed that. The thing that got me centered was the knife ... now yes it hurt.. but it was more the fear of what that knife COULD do that did it to me... not what was actually done.

i do not particularly like being over the ottoman.. i think it is because i can wiggle away.. and kneel up and move away completely.. and i do !! bad subbie - very bad masochist!! After all if i was really craving the pain... i would simply bend over.. grab my ankles.. and let Sir beat the hell out of me .. wouldn't i?? - which for the record is exactly what Sir wanted me to do............... and i balked.. loud and long. It is not pleasurable to be bent over .. holding one's ankles having the hell beaten out of them.... i explained to Sir - rather tearfully (tears of frustration more than anything) that i would have nothing to support me.. and that would mean that every hit.. every ounce of pain would be just that PAIN. There would be no floating away from it.. no getting on top of it.. it would just be PAIN .. bad pain to endure.

And why you might ask??

Because my body could not relax into it.. could not feel supported and protected from falling flat on my face. i would hold my position and my mind would work damn hard at keeping me in that position which would mean.. PAIN and only pain... no friendly endorphins - no adrenalin.. nothing.. only pain and holding my body in place.

SO

i can not possibly be a masochist. pointe finale !!

However......... Sir did take me downstairs to the playroom on Sunday - i did put the spanking new heater on... and He did chain me up to the cross.. and the strong wooden arms of the cross embraced my body and held me firm.. and i didn't have to think about holding any position.. i just had to lean against the structure and relax...

AND Sir used as many of the umpteen toys that hang on the wall down there.. from the crop - to the lexicon cane .. to the snake's tongue.. to the wooden paddle..to the dog whip ... to the tack paddle.. yes i said TACK paddle - the one i built by hammering carpet tacks through a wooden ball paddle.

And yes Sir left me bloody and weak and fragile...
And yes my fairies came
And yes i was contented and happy



BUT .. i can't be a masochist cause pain does not drive me to bend over and grab my ankles and just suck it up and take it.........

so there.. i've said it "out loud" so it must be true.