Pain – Now there’s a word that splits me in two. In general terms, I hate pain. Even mild discomfort is something I avoid in daily life. When it comes to D/s, it’s a whole different ball game. It gives both my current domme and my former mistress a giggle to bracket me as a painslut.
I seem to have minor OCD when it comes to definitions of terms, so to be sure about what I am writing I took a quick look at Merriam-Webster.
Merriam-Webster: Definition of masochistic1: of or relating to masochism: deriving sexual gratification from being subjected to physical pain or humiliation
2: gaining pleasure from pain and suffering
You may find it odd that I reject definition #1. I think most subs and masochists would readily identify with there being a high degree of sexual gratification induced by erotic and sensual pain. For me, physical sexual gratification is lost in the mists of time. If I ever even had the linkage between pain and arousal, those links were severed a very long time ago along with all arousal responses. This is why I swear I’m not really a masochist, even as I lovingly finger the welts.
Which means I’m left with definition #2 and I’m happy with this one. Pain and suffering give me a great deal of pleasure, not sexual pleasure, though. I’m not sure I can put a finger on it – just all round pleasure from the bath of endorphins and the mental high from all those stresses.
Now it’s time for a quote from the very cheesy movie, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier.
Damn it, Bones, you’re a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can’t be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They’re the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don’t want my pain taken away. I need my pain.
Yes, it is a cheesy line from Hollywood trying to be profound (Shatner was director). And yet it speaks to me in interesting ways.
The first few minutes of a CP session are very difficult for me, they come under the category of discomfort and I almost hate what’s comparatively minor pain. Then, slowly, I enter a trance state, followed by subspace and the painslut is more apparent each time. I can ride the pain, I need the pain and I need to suffer for her. In this state I’m brought alive in facing the stark truths of who and what I am. Shame and guilt are long consigned to the past and now each time is a fresh cleansing.
She carefully layers the pain. Paddles, straps, crops, canes and the recently added snakeskin single tail. By now it’s a well rehearsed dance. She’s not out to break me and I’m not there to challenge her to do so. Instead her goal is to push me that bit further in to the red each time. To know that when she decides to stop that she’s taken everything I had to give, nothing was left in the locker and that the inner painslut has fought past those early moments to revel living inside the pain, not wanting it to stop.
Pain comes in different guises. The blunt trauma of CP is one such guise, the other frequent application is needles. Unlike a heavy strike with a cane, there’s no individual needle that stands out. The pain and the flood of endorphins associated with needles is cumulative, it builds slowly until there’s the all too late realisation that endurance is once again being tested to the limits.
And that is perhaps the key word in my relationship with her and pain – endurance. That’s where my satisfaction and pleasure comes from, to know I’ve endured what she wanted to give and take to/from me. My submissive instincts, even fantasies, have always been about endurance and suffering – I need my pain. Or is it her pain ? That’s a conundrum I’m not going to attempt to unravel.
What I find truly interesting is that seeking and enduring the physical pain is really a manifestation of a submission that’s primarily mental. The hypnosis continually deepens that submission and gives rise to greater endurance, the ability to clamp down on the rising tsunami and surf the wave without being wiped out.
The trouble with pushing the limits on pain and endurance is that eventually you realise that those very dark and extreme thoughts around pain and suffering that were once out of reach fantasies are now not quite so extreme, that they are within grasping distance. There’s a scary part of me that sees higher pain and suffering becoming options and says: “I’ve got to know !!” – but I’m not a masochist, honest (unless we’re talking about high heels 😂👠)
Written for #TellMeAbout. Click on the image to read informative posts from across the D/s spectrum.