My former Dom and I often made pillow talk about playing until the tears flowed. Taking me to that edge and pushing me over until I cried and then his brutally taking me. We never did go there. I he was a big softy in many ways. I think he wrestled with the age old “how can you love some one and want to hurt them too”.

 

This mornings discipline is the closest I’ve ever come. It was the closest I’ve ever come and I found myself wanting to go over that edge. I would have preferred that it was because the “beating” was for fun, or because he thought I needed the release, instead of it being as a punishment…but nonetheless….there I was creeping up on that edge and I wanted him to put me over. I wanted the tears to flow. I wanted to cry both from the intensity of the interaction and from the pain. (It fucking hurts being held up by your goddamn hair!!)

 

This is both comforting and scary. It’s comforting because I know that my intuition about myself and longings are accurate. I do indeed know myself as Maitre likes to point out.

 

Why is it scary? It’s scary because I wonder where it goes. I wonder how healthy it really is. Because it is a dark thing. Because I wonder where else that intensity will take me. We watch adolescents cut on themselves and we tell them not to do it, that it’s not healthy. So is wanting someone to beat the snot out of me ok?

 

But ultimately… that potential to feed my intensity, to go as far as my intensity will take me is terribly, terribly seductive.

 

So tell me Maitre, does it make you hard to hurt me?