There were some discussions this weekend about limits and “normal” thinking, “normal” reactions. Some of it was with regards to what we write about, how dark or demented we can go with our imagination and our words. The other part of it was about real life experiences and how or when we push our limits. Do we push ourselves, or do we let others push us to that place we won’t admit that we already want to go to?
Normal is relative and personal. What you find or think normal is not the same as what I consider normal. For you normal may be sex every Saturday night after a bubble bath and a glass of wine, missionary position, with oral reserved for special occasions. For me that wouldn’t be normal at all. Besides the no oral part (because seriously, how could that not be compulsory?) I enjoy a kinkier sex life.
I was recently confronted with a truth I wasn’t entirely aware of. I had always considered it to be something that wasn’t normal and hadn’t been with anyone who shared the same enthusiasm. I like pain. I like it a lot and I want to experience more of it, in the right context and with the right person of course.
I’ve always liked my tits and nipples played with. I like when they are pinched and nibbled and sucked and bitten. The harder the better. Nobody has ever been too rough with them to a point where I didn’t like it. If anything, I find that previous partners were not rough enough. It is a delightful pain that is directly connected to my cunt. I can cum just from rough nipple play alone. Even if I don’t cum there will be a massive amount of wetness dripping from me.
On my weekend away with Him, we both brought a few things to play with. My favourite was a rubber loop slapper of his. It snaps and bites, at first a sharp little pain but then it lingers and grows, and builds oh so fantastically with each subsequent slap. The marks it leaves behind are so sexy. Crescents of red across pale skin. The slapper was similar to the pic below. Sadly we did not take any pictures that weekend. Maybe another time.
I wanted Him to take the slapper to my tits but he reserved those for his mouth and hands only. Handprints across my chest and some teeth marks are one thing, but I’m certain he didn’t want to seriously hurt or scar me right off the bat. It takes time to learn each others limits and tolerances. I appreciate that but I still wanted it. He smacked my ass and my cunt, and I loved it. I didn’t realize how good it would feel on my cunt. I nearly exploded all over him.
This is also one of the things I enjoy about anal sex. I always thought it was about the submission, about the space I go to when having a good, slow anal fuck, but it’s more than that. That moment of penetration when I am being forced apart, that moment of pain, that’s the part that sucks me in. It is the sub space that keeps me there, but it is that initial jolt of pain that keeps me asking for more.
Some of my favourite toys to play with are the ones that inflict some level of pain… the flogger, the slapper, paddles, clothes pegs, nipple clamps, other clamp… Even my favourite fantasy involves pain. Hmmm, interesting.
It goes from pain to pleasure. That’s the disconnect from what I’ve always been taught. Pain is bad and you shouldn’t like it. Right? There has to be something seriously wrong with us if we like pain. That’s what I was taught. Otherwise why would punishment work at all? Maybe that’s why it never worked for me when I was younger, because I enjoyed the tender ass after being beaten with the belt or the hairbrush. I would go to my room and masturbate afterwards.