I've been thinking again. This time on how pain works for and against pleasure for me. There can be pleasure. There can be pain. And then there is the pain that translates into pleasure. It is interesting to notice how they can work together to create a scene so fantastic that it literally burns itself into my mind to be recounted even years later.
In my mind, there are different levels. There are those who don't like any pain whatsoever and are turned off at the mere thought of it. On the next level are those who like a minute amount of pain, being maybe a slight tug to the hair or a paddle very lightly pinking the bottom. The next step are those that enjoy a true reddening of the bottom but not so much that deep bruises occur. Those that love floggers and the occasional welting or bites that have the possibility of a hickey. Then there are the true masochists that enjoy deep lasting bruises and other varieties of deeply inflicted pain.
What level do I feel I fall into? I am the next to last kind. I love biting and floggers, whips and canes. I've found that I'm not into bruises, although if they're created by accident or done just right, I enjoy the reminder of the scene they can cause. Hair pulling? Yes please, by all means! As long as you do it right. When things are done wrong, it falls into the pain that does not create pleasure category. At least for me.
This is not to say that I don't like pleasure without pain. I do quite like it, in fact. Those that know me well know how much I love cuddling and brushing people's hair and the other many wonderful things that create pleasure in our lives. This also is not to say that I can't handle the deep bruises and other assorted things that classify as harder play. I can and have handled them before. They just aren't my preferred method of play. There are those times though, when I need roughness. I need that plain that can create that fierce knowledge that I am not the one in control. That there is another whose will is greater than mine. There are those times when I need to be put in my place.
It is not just something that I desire to have in my life. It is a need. It is an unyielding hunger that can turn me into a defiant little bitch when it's not satisfied. And when this need strikes, it reminds me of the fact that I am not vanilla at all. I am 100% kinky and nothing will ever change that. It is who I am.
So when all is said and done, I may not be a heavy bottom or a deep masochist, but I am a pain slut. In my own form and fashion, I enjoy pain for the pleasure and release it can bring to me. A good mind fuck can do so much for a girl's demeanor sometimes. ;)
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