I had deliberately taken a step back from playing after things went sideways a month ago. I had many people in my life try to encourage me to jump right into things again – get roughed up – get out there and fill the void. I kept declining – even the offers I had to scene. Why?
When my mind is in a bad place, I stop listening to my body.
I know from playing sports and running that if I’m emotionally hurt or angry or in a bad place, I will only get hurt by hurting myself. How? I stay in my head, and when my body is screaming out for me to slow down or stop, I ignore it. In the end, most of my injuries I have gotten in my life is a result of me ignoring my body and ultimately ignoring the major pulled muscle or the hurt knee or the hurt ankle or the hurt shoulder. Mind over body resulted in my body getting the last laugh.
Knowing this, I worried that I would get into a scene – ignore my body telling me to cry uncle – and let things get pushed into a bad hurt. And that last thing I wanted to do to someone is allow them to hurt me in a bad way – a way that would make them feel incredibly guilty as well. So, when offers were made, I declined.
Feeling in a better space, I sought out a scene at a recent party. A scene with a guy with a reputation that scares many. He is definitely a sadist in every sense of the word. But, I’ve had fun with him before & knew it wouldn’t take much to get some time with him. And as I expected, he promised lots of welts and all.
I was nervous going into the scene. I don’t know why. Just was. It had been a while. I wanted it to go well. I trust him, so that wasn’t an issue. Just was anxious for some fun – excited and anxious. We found a place in the dungeon, I disrobed, he opened his bag, then grabbed me around the throat. The anxiety left my body as he took control, moved me by my throat to the bench, and had me assume the position.
He warmed me up with a flogger and his hand, then switched immediately to the single tail. And something happened that was unexpected.
I started giggling.
I laugh during play, but usually at myself if someone gets me to start anticipating and reacting to a strike before the strike hits my body. That involuntary reaction makes me start laughing at myself – and at the power shift that happens as a result.
But this was different. Each sting – each time the single tail found its spot on my ass and thighs, I couldn’t help but giggle.
He switched implements – switched to a large paddle – “This is gonna hurt” he forewarned before he resumed his assault on my ass.
Did it hurt?
How did I react?
I swore and giggled.
This pattern continued as he went through the toys. At one point, he pulled me up by my hair to ask if I was giggling. I responded by giggling.
Processing pain for me usually involves moaning, swearing and writhing as I work through a painful swat. Giggling has never been one of the ways.
Until the other night.
Even thinking about that scene now makes me giggle.
I can’t help it.
I am bruised beyond what I think I’ve ever been bruised before. He used, I think, 10 different implements from his bag on me – some hurt like hell – and I giggled my ass off.
And my giggled fueled his desire to hurt me in a good way.
I met each thing with an appropriate reaction of “that’s gonna hurt”, then swearing and giggling after he started using it on me.
The body and mind are funny things.
Sometimes, I guess the emotional release one needs from the good pain, is a large amounts of giggling coupled with the word fuck.
Now that’s what I call a good hurt.