As I have stated before, I’m really into getting punished. At some point of the procedure I lose myself and indulge in the pain and I think I can take a lot. In former relationships my partners have brutalised me until I bled. Horrifying, but I liked it, even if the pain endured for a week or two. It was more of being “fuckmeat” than of being the person I am. Not to talk of love and respect. And I did not ask for love or respect, I just wanted the pain and the abuse. I was aware of the fact that by taking this serious form of injuring I repeated what my father did to me over and over again. He knew no mercy and I stopped begging for it as a child. Until today I almost never beg Master to stop or to slow down a bit and sometimes I am in the mood of wanting more, much, much more than what he dares to give to me. Of course it’s an act of cowardice to “use” Master to hurt myself and when I start to think about it, I feel bad. Is BDSM just a way of self-punishment all the time?
Sometimes when we’re powerplaying, I lose myself so much that I wish to be killed. It’s not that I want to die, really not, I love my life, I love John. But at some point my thoughts run wild and I think of being tortured to death and that somehow turns me on. I know it’s insane and I should not think that awful thing. I do not want to die in real terms, but giving in to Master’s power by offering my life…well, that’s a fantasy that really turns me on. My therapist says it’s no wonder I have these thoughts but that I should try to overcome them by building up self-respect. But let’s face it, who decides what’s best for us? I have experienced a lot of abuse and violence and I think it would be quite unlikely if I dreamt of bees and birds. And why should I change if Master does not even feel guilty about being the dominant and sadistic man he is? We both like it. But I am sure it’s good that John stays in charge, because I doubt whether I would ever be able to intervene if he went too far.
So, how do you know it’s enough? I think I have lost me sense for what would be enough by being pushed far over that line in early years. As a child I was convinced that one day my father would kill me and that my death was just a question of time. He had me fainting by strangling me and I liked it. I got a bit used to it and tried to stretch the moment when everything turned black LOL I liked it because it made the pain vanish and I hoped that I would not wake up again. But everytime I did and I was husky for a few days. It was that first, early experience of belonging that much to somebody who would even have the might and the right to kill me which left me a pervert I guess. I’m OK with it but sometimes I feel bad when I see John’s sad eyes. I’m sorry Love.