Remember the other day how I was saying that I’m not as ‘into’ the whole bdsm thing as I used to be? Well, I’ve had a bit more of a think about it and I’ve come to the conclusion that there is one facet of it that I’m a whole lot not as into as I used to be – the pain thing.
I’ve never been one to actively seek out pain, but I think I used to definitely tolerate it a lot better than I do now. In fact, my tolerance for pain now is right around the nada, niente, no-way-jose mark. I just don’t want it in any way shape or form. I don’t even find the thought of it slightly titillating or norti. I just really, really, really with every fibre of my being do not want to have to feel anything that is ouchie.
Which is a wee bit of a problem for a slave in a bdsm relationship, don’t cha think?
I tend to do a lot of my thinking at really bizarre times. Sometimes it’s on the toilet or when I’m munching on my vegemite toast, but today’s great thought came when I was walking to the bus station after just getting off the train. Somewhere between the up escalator and the ticket gate, the thought struck me that the feeling I have towards things ouchie these days is none other than…fear.
It’s a deep-seated, stomach-churning, I-do-not-want-to-be-there feeling that either (a) makes me want to vomit or (b) makes me want to cry. Even when something is not really that ouchie, the thought of it being even slightly ouchie is enough to set me off. And I don’t think it even has to be ouchie to induce those feelings, even just ‘uncomfortable’ is enough to set me off.
That’s why I don’t want to be beaten, don’t want to insert anything up my bum and I haven’t even given bondage a second thought – which is soooooo not like me. Any time Master even gets the faintest hint of a glint in his eye that he wants to do something, I can’t get away fast enough. I just want to be as far away as possible from anything that is going to cause me anything but neutrality or pleasure.
If he wants kisses or cuddles or even relaxation therapy (when my tmj cooperates) that is a.o.k. Ravishings are fine. As are banter sessions. I also don’t have any sort of issue with Master himself; I still love spending time with him and he does make me very happy, but when he wants to do ouchie stuff, he might as well be offering to lick me from head to toe.
I used to be the sort of person who got some sort of twisted pleasure from the struggle of being forced to endure pain. There were many times that I even asked for more ouchies, having thought that Master hadn’t given me ‘enough’. While I never felt pain as anything but pain, I got some sort of satisfaction out of it that helped my tolerance.
Now? I got nothing but fear and loathing.
The last time I felt like this was that morning I was on the bus going to that really horrible government call centre job I was doing last year when I suddenly decided that I just couldn’t do it anymore and I once I arrived at the office I quit. I had just reached that point where it was totally beyond my tolerance level, like over the last 6 months I’d somehow filled up my allowable quota for shittiness and now that I was full I could take no more. There was nothing for me to do then but quit that job. I could not, physically and mentally, stand another day there.
Comparing my feelings towards pain to that shitty, shitty job is probably not the best thing though. I’m not saying that I’m ready to quit slavery or that my feelings towards Master have changed in any way. I just don’t want to do the pain thing any more.
I’ve reached that point where my mind is just saying, “No”.
And for some reason I’m scared.
This is one of those times when being a slave sucks.