BRUISES ARE EASY – it’s what’s inside

A bit of Arnica, wearing underpants to bed, generally being careful. Dealing with bruises, so long as they are in the right place, has not, so far, been a problem for me. Only a couple of times has a Mistress (never Elita) marked me outside the target zone when I had asked her not to. Even then a bit of extra care is all that has been required.

One day I may make a mistake and the bruises will give me away but I have a routine that has kept me out of trouble so far.

However, the sensations and emotions I am exposing myself to, both as a submissive and as a dominant are now so intense, so far beyond my previous experience that they trigger internal challenges and difficult, dark, uncomfortable feelings. Because I am feeling these things today, I have decided to write about them. The fact that the alternative is some work I don’t want to do may also be a factor.

Here’s how things might develop after a particularly intense session:

The day of the session – Day One

I’ve written about this often. Before the session I’m nervous, adrenaline fuelled, very focussed. I might even be full of genuine fear, wondering why I asked for what’s coming, scared that I will not be able to handle it . Afterwards, I’m either in a dreamy, floaty subspace, perhaps sitting on the  train home staring out of the widow as I process what’s just happened, or alternatively I’m excited, exhilarated, high fiving everyone in the room, wanting to share the experience. I’m all: “Hey; Twitter; guess what I just did – it was AWESOME!”

The day after the session – Day Two

The day after the session I’ll enjoy looking at the marks, constantly feeling the bruises if there are any and I’ll relish the brush of sensitive nipples against my shirt. Whether I’ve been domming or subbing, I’ll spend the day still half in the session, full of contemplative wonder at the glorious opportunities life has presented me with. I’ll be more attentive than normal to family and work colleagues; I’ll carry old lady’s bags up the stairs and perform other random acts of kindness all day as I seek to share my good fortune with the world. I will write a thank you note to whoever I was playing with and read their reply at least twenty times. I like Day Two. I like who I am on Day Two and wish I had it in me to be that person all the time.

Day Three (today)

On day three I come down to earth with a bang, thrust back to the realities of a vanilla existence where the intensity of the games of bondage and sadomasochism I have just been playing starts to fade. I might be at work; I might be at home, but I will find it hard to avoid a mood of maudlin introspection. Now, rather then simply relish the experience I’ve enjoyed, I’ll force myself to recognize the reality of what I am; a dissatisfied middle aged guy who uses the fact that he has a bit of money to cheat on his wife with sex workers. I’ll hate myself a bit and focus on the huge mess that will be dumped all over my life if/when this all comes into the open.

I can’t discuss my responses to the session with anyone else, so I want to talk with the Mistress or Submissive I’ve just seen. I’ll write a dozen emails and texts, only to delete all of them in lonely frustration. I crave connection, any connection, with someone who might understand what I’ve just been through, who could perhaps help me rationalise the intensity of my emotions.

On Day three, it doesn’t matter how ludicrously intense the scene was, how many times or how hard I was hit with what implement; I will feel it wasn’t enough; I’ll feel I could have taken more, should have asked for more. I’ll look around for ways to make up the deficit; I might take myself off to the garage or set up an even more intense session for next time.

Take this week for example; the first time I’ve ever sessioned twice in a week. Monday was my first ever Double Domme experience, a fantastic and super challenging 90 minutes that left me drained, feeling wrung out like a wet towel. On Wednesday (Day Three) I texted Elita and asked her to give me a beating. Fortunately (I mean that) the timing didn’t work out.

On Friday I had my first ever double sub session, possibly the hottest, most gloriously erotic thing I have ever done. Today (day Three), in fact while writing this, I’ve set up a thirty stroke judicial caning scene from Elita’s man. It will be absolutely brutal.

I actually feel much better for having written this down. Shared it. It’s no longer something festering inside me. I feel I can draw Day Three to a close early and move on with my life. That’s a good feeling. I think I’ll take the boy to the cinema.

Ah….

That caning though. I really did set that up.

Fuck.