So…

I’ve said for a long time that S/m isn’t exactly sexual for me.

Sure, my body responds. I get wet.

If we’re home and in private sex is definitely incorporated into our play.

But it’s usually pain then sex.

Sometimes Taylor will stop and caress me during play. He may stop and shove his dick down my throat for a few minutes or stick a hand between my legs and force a shuddering orgasm.

Sometimes he’ll kiss and bite and scratch and pinch, mixing arousal with the s/m, with the pain.

Sometimes, afterwards, we’ll have rough, rowdy, sex - sex that is more force and pain than sex.

Sometimes it’s pure use and abuse of my limp, mindless body.

Occasionally it’s even tender, loving and soft.

But during the play, during the flogging or caning or whipping or paddling or punching, slapping, choking, grabbing, tossing me around s/m shit…

Anything sexual blends into it. It’s just as rough. Just as painful. Done with pure, sadistic glee and dominating control.

It blends. It melds. It entwines with what we’re doing. It’s…

Argh.

I can’t explain it so well.

Here’s the deal, though.

The other night we went to our group’s monthly play party and he did something so fucking whacked, so different, so abnormal I actually went into a crying, loathing panic. My mind twisted and bent into incomprehension. My brain and my body were in a full fledged battle, utterly unable to process. I was so mad at him!

He had me hold onto a ring strung from the ceiling - pretty normal for us. It’s his preferred way to flog me. No restraints, I have to hold on and stay still on my own, my body stretched, arms taut above me, head able to bow forward to keep my hair off my back . But then he had a female friend of ours sit in front of me. (Two, actually. First one, then the other) And while he was laying into my back with floggers and singletails - with pretty much no warm up - he had her very softly caress and kiss my chest, breasts, face and stomach.

Normally I process soft, female touch in a certain way.

I also process pain in a certain way.

In both instances I sort of shut down and focus solely on the single sensations. I take them in, let them work their magic, my mind and body get into a narrow groove with little room for anything else.

I absolutely couldn’t do that with both things going on at once.

The floggers and whips felt like pure, horrible pain. Jarring, blunt and cold.

The touch felt vaguely intrusive and foreign, distracting, confusing.

Two things that normally feel so fucking right felt…

Argh.

I really don’t have the words.

I couldn’t relax into the touch. Every time something felt good a whip would crack or a flogger would punch into my back. I couldn’t settle into the pain because every time I started to ride those sensation a wet mouth or a soft hand would be tickling at my breast and pulling me out of the mindset.

And it just kept happening, over and over.

I’m standing there, my mind racing and tripping over itself trying to process what my body is going thru and totally unable to do so, tears leaking out of my eyes, fighting with all I have to control the vaguely claustrophobic sensation it’s creating, struggling not to drop that ring and just fucking run.

Finally, all I could do is sort of shut down.

I think I may have been chanting “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you” in my head.

I definitely discovered that softness and sex has absolutely no place in my S/m play. Not during, anyhow. Not simultaneously with pain.

My psyche was stretched tight and fraying.

Unraveling.

I cannot process pain and softness. I cannot process pain and sex.

Pain may arouse me, it may make me frenzied and willing to do nearly anything, it may create a sublime state of submission and powerlessness that leads to sex…

My cunt may moisten to the point where my thighs are slick.

But that is so utterly different to me than normal sexual touch.

A whip across my back may make my pussy twitch.

A woman’s mouth on my nipple may do the same thing.

But though I may have the same reaction to both things the process of body to mind to body is different for each.

And having them occur at the same time was a mind fuck of gargantuan proportions.

It was, honestly, more rape-like than anything I’ve experienced before.

Though I have to admit that when we got home and I tugged off my jeans…

My cunt was soaked.

**As a side note: I don’t want either of the girls to read this and feel guilty or bad. It’s not at all that your touch is ever unwelcome. It’s not that you did anything bad or wrong or icky. The entire thing was exactly what Taylor planned, exactly what he was looking for. And, like I said, even though I hated it… it was obviously arousing. Hating it, the mindfuck, is a huge part of what I crave out of S/m so don’t feel bad. K?**