Pain 101
» Pain
I was chained standing in the rack and Alexandra was beating me.
I’d picked up a handful of quirts and other stinging and slapping toys. She was using me as a whipping post for target practice.
Together we learned how the new toys feel and she was reacquiring her skill.
Very safe and sane.
Having a lash cut into my sides instead of my back isn’t erotic for me. Not that she shouldn’t use that when she wishes. But part of my trust in her is founded on her care in both the senses of control and empathy.
She raised the issue of a safe word again. Again I refused one. So far she has never failed to discern my physical and emotional states. I don’t think I need a safe word. And I fear I’d use it too easily.
When something stung causing me to make a noise I was startled by myself. The pain felt good. I really am a masochist I marveled. During her absence I’d come to fear it was an illusion. That I’d lied to myself for years.
I really wanted to ask her to just turn loose on me for a couple of minutes. For her sadism to flame and use me brutally.
That didn’t seem fair. Time for that later.
