War wounds

This would normally be the post I would make after I attended a play party and I have some fantastic bruises to show off to the world, except there was no party and there was no play. And I’m kind of okay with that and kind of not.

The last time we played was the Halloween party we attended. I had a fantastically lumpy ass and the bruises lasted a good ten days. I took photos from various flattering angles and played with them in photoshop until they told the story that I wanted them to tell.

The story I didn’t want the photos to tell was the fact that I felt absolutely nothing during the beating except pain. There wasn’t any sense of achievement or submission, nothing that made me feel like I was answering my calling or doing something that fulfilled me.

Then after the beating, M attached a leash to my pussy rings and wandered around the room have a chat or two with various people while I stood there naked and awkward and I didn’t really feel anything except that extreme social awkwardness I always feel when I have to talk to people I don’t feel 100% comfortable with (I’d feel exactly the same way if I was clothed and in a place that screamed a little less dungeon play party and a little more casual Sunday brunch.)

The only thing I really seem to get out of a beating is some good photos. I wait for that first comment and get a few loves on Fet and suddenly I feel validated or something. The feeling doesn’t last very long though and I wonder why I’m doing it.

This time I haven’t got any photos or war wounds to sing songs about.

Maybe next time.



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