How on earth did I let this happen? On what planet could it possibly have seemed a good idea? I suppose the answer is that, when I suggested the upcoming session, I had just come through a prolonged caning from Mistress Elita, who had been in a particularly vicious mood. It had left me high as a kite on a heady cocktail of adrenaline and endorphins. I had experienced the thrill of having been tested and survived and wanted to be there again.
Whatever the reason, as Tuesday evening comes closer, I am starting to realise the enormity of what I have let myself in for. The psychological dynamic of this session is going to drive me into places I haven’t been before. It’s going to make me want to go right to the very limits of my tolerance for pain and then explore the dark, frightening place beyond those limits. It’s going to make me want to finally find out what I can really take.
Here’s how this session is going to work: Elita’s Man, is going to award a number of strokes to be shared between us. It will be a high number. I can only guess how high but last time he caned us it had been 24 strokes each. This could be up to 48 strokes between us. Or more. The twist; the evil, dreadful little wrinkle in the set-up that makes this session more than just corporal punishment, is that I will go first; he will cane me till I can’t take any more; then Elita will take the rest of the total.
The maths are simple: if the total is 40 strokes and I only manage 16, she will get 24. But, let us imagine I somehow hang in there to 30 strokes. In that case Elita; the wonderful Elita, my Mistress; the woman who has introduced me to an un-dreamt of world of erotic sensation; Elita, who has a beautiful, smooth skinned bottom, not caned as often as mine, will only have to take 10.
The maths are simple but the psychology is horrible.
My incentive is to go deep, deep into the total number; to push myself to take as many strokes as I can:
- to satisfy my natural instinct to protect those that are important to me
- to satisfy the ingrained prejudicial perceptions of my generation that lead to the conclusion “I’m the man in this scene – surely I must take more pain than the woman”
- to feel good about myself, having explored my limits and survived
These things are perhaps obvious. However, now that I search deep inside myself in an attempt to understand what this session is really all about, I realise that primarily I will be motivated to earn the gratitude and praise of My Mistress. Though I describe myself as “not very submissive,” as I contemplate this scenario, I am feeling more her creature than ever before. This session, if nothing else, will be an act of submission: submission to him; for sure, he holds the cane; but primarily, submission to Elita, a demonstration of the lengths I will go to minimise her suffering.
Of course now I’ve published this blog I have the added incentive that it would be horrible to have to return here and say: “You know what, guys? He hit me too hard, I wimped out at 10 strokes and Elita had to take 30”. That would be truly horrible!
But, despite all I have just said, it is not the way the psychology of the session affects me that has my pulse racing and my mouth dry. It’s how the psychology affects him.
He wants to cane Elita for that is his thing.
IN ORDER TO CANE ELITA, HE HAS TO BREAK ME
He has to overcome my tolerance for pain, push on past all my reserves and break me.
I can dress it up as a game; a bit of BDSM fun; a novel 3-way CP session, but the plain fact is that tomorrow evening, I am going to be broken.
And I’m frightened.
Not for the pain. That’s exciting. But for how I will feel afterwards.