When I’ve written a post describing my violent thoughts or actions, I always worry that readers will think I have crossed a line and that what started out as consensual kinky play has become something darker.
I had that concern when I wrote about my kidnap scene with a friend, Euclidean Point, as she is known on social media. I know what happened in the session, how in control of myself I was and how much she loved it, but to write about wanting badly to hurt someone still felt to be high risk
in that context, to be able to add Pointy’s own words to the image we have chosen for Sinful Sunday made me happy.
“Standing alone in the anteroom outside the dungeon, with my back to the door and fingertips pressed against the cold brick wall, I wait. I’m only there for a few minutes, but some part of me has been waiting for this since the last time.
The bag that I brought with me and handed over to him minutes before is roughly shoved over my head and I’m led into the dungeon proper. I’ve been here before but it doesn’t matter. I’m disoriented. I do as I’m told and lie face down on the floor. He quickly wraps chains around my ankles and attaches them to something behind me. My wrists are similarly wrapped and pulled ahead of me where they are secured. He laughs at my helplessness. A nice touch.
Ahead of the session, he suggested whips, and I thought it would be cute to add chains to our plans. Our own take on the BDSM cliche. The fact that I can’t move, that he can’t see my face, gives me a little comfort as I think about facing the whip. It scares me, and fear is what I’m here for. Fear that strips away the petty stresses and worries that normally vie for my attention. Pain that turns my normally shallow anxious breathing into full lung gasps and groas.
He prods my body roughly with his feet. He flogs my back hard enough that each impact feels like it’s shoving the air out of my lungs. He spanks me, and a small far away part of my brain idly wonders if I’ll end up with bruises like I did before. If I do I will poke them and send him pictures.
Afterwards we will sit in a cafe and discuss, over excellent food, the scene and how it went for us. I’ll take the train home and read a book that someone has recommended. It’s a dated business book, and so no-one who can see me reading it will know why I suddenly smile to myself. It’s because I’ve found a rather fitting quote: “When you stop being afraid, you feel good!”
More Sunday sin here:
“When you stop being afraid, you feel good!”
I love reading the multiple points of view when it comes to kink etc. One of my fav things with regards to kink is talking about it after, finding the little moments that worked for each other and how they fitted together to create a bigger picture.
Molly