For years, too many years, the only outlet for my kink was through hurting myself. A sub-kink developed (is that even a thing?): I found the act of making or buying implements with which to hurt myself became erotically charged in itself. It still is.
Now I see professional Mistress’s and submissives, making or buying an implement to be used in a session, whether on me or by me, is similarly charged. Selecting a vintage riding crop as a gift for Elita was a huge turn-on, long before she stood over me with it in her hands
So for this weeks “photography outdoors” picture I’ve returned to this kink, cutting matched switches from a willow tree to make a willow birch, if that’s not too much of an oxymoron (it shouldn’t be; Isle of Man punishment birches were mostly made of Hazel!).
Why two bunches, one long, one short? Well I am finally going to play out this old hotel room fantasy with Mistress Elita and Miss S. The idea of leaving the longer birch on a chair for Elita to find when she walks into the room appeals to me – knowing exactly how much it will hurt when she uses it.
And the smaller one? That’s for Miss S.
And I know just how she’s going to feel in the time between reading this and our meeting. She’s going to feel exactly like me.
Of course, having gone to all the trouble of making a birch, I had to try it out. Just a bit.
You see, that’s how I am.
When I started the blog, hitting myself was the most difficult thing to write about. It seemed somehow… weird…. in a way that paying someone else to hit me didn’t. Self abusive perhaps. I’m more OK with it now, partly through talking to sympathetic folk on Twitter who do, or have done, the same thing.
More sin here: