Over the weekend Mr. D and I had several sessions of play. Each was different from the others. At different times, Mr. D used his bare hand, the cane, a riding crop and his heavy flogger on me. The cane he used in a rhythmic way. Tap, tap, tap then snap! Tap, tap, tap then snap! The tapping lulls me and primes my skin for what’s to come. It pulls some blood to the surface for the heavier strikes afterward. The bare handed spankings, oh how I love them. He had my ass cheeks nice and rosy. He gave me his hand to feel, it was warm to the touch. With bare hands, both the giver and the receiver feel the sting. I like the equality of that.
The last thing he used on me was the flogger. He whipped me with the falls of the flogger on my ass cheeks, my thighs and on my back. He swings the flogger up and over to hit the top of the ass and then reverses his swing to come up from below. The second swing brings the falls in contact with my thighs and the very tender crease between thigh and ass cheek. It is very sensitive there. He had me jumping.
At the end of the weekend as Mr. D and I were settling down for sleep, I told him that I was a bit off this weekend with my pain management. That sounds an odd way to say it but I think that’s about right, now that I’ve had some time to think. I didn’t do a very good job managing the pain. A couple different times during play, it felt really stingy and biting. I couldn’t properly get my head into the right space. I didn’t expect to go into subspace because we weren’t playing long enough at any time for that. But I usually settle down into a place where the pain is a catalyst for passion. This is the part of being a Pain Slut that I love.
Pain has an effect on me no matter what; whether I like it and want it, whether I’m willing or not. Mr. D does several things to me in the heat of passion that will make me cringe and cry. But they also make me gush. I’m learning that being a Pain Slut doesn’t mean you love and want the pain all the time. Many times, it hurts and I run from the pain. Still, he can see that it is working. This is why I’m not in charge. I’d probably run from the pain way more than I should, ha!
Once, during our play, I tried to use willpower to push myself into subspace. I wanted to slip into that place where the pain stops being stingy and I start loving it. Please, please, let me slip away! I tried to push my mind into that floating place, but it was not to be. It can’t be forced.
Edge play is an odd thing. I don’t have enough experience to understand. Daddy has a lot more than me and sees a lot more of where I’m at and how I am throughout a scene. On Sunday, I told Daddy, the pain felt stingier and just hurt this weekend. I suppose I could be female and say it was because I’m on my period but that’s a cop out. Whether with emotions or in physical play, I need to learn better how to let go. I want so much to explore the edge.
I want him to push me physically and emotionally. I want to be thrown into subspace by his fierceness and his delivery of pain. But if I whine and whimper and can’t take it, I’m not giving him much of a reason to go there. He is a protective Daddy after all.
One day at a time, one step at a time. Oh, impatience, I am your fool.