Oh true, I'm not very good at pain. I can't always take a lot of it. When I am in extreme or unending pain, I get very very bitchy about it, especially when it's the sort of pain given to me without any sex attached at all -menstrual cramps and toothaches and my head pounding.
But I *like* pain. I like being spanked and scratched and bit and hit. I love clamps, and being pinched and twisted and pulled until I can barely wear a bra, my nipples are so fragile and sensitive. I've not yet gotten to play with hot wax or cold ice, but I look forward to it, and I'm sure I'll enjoy it too.
And really, I'm not a painslut, by any stretch of the imagination. My bottoming style is more submissive than masochistic --I like to be told by my sir what a good (or even better, bad!) girl am I, and have him treat me right. Truth be told, I want my master to be a daddysort, and yes, I realize I have issues. I love the mental aspect of it all, the subtle averted eyes.
But _fuck_ I love pain though.
I think it's just how alive it makes me feel. If you're feeling pain, you must be real, and man, does it start the endorphins wailing. "THERE'S SOMETHING HURTING" they howl.
"I WANT IT TO!" I scream back, and tilt my head back and laugh, laugh in the hysterical-crazy way I only really manage when I'm in a negative mood gone manic, or when I've been hurt so badly my brain finally snaps away from caring. It's a wonderful
And so when no one's looking, I'll pinch my nipples, and pretend that I can be as cruel as FatherMaster. I'll run my nails along my skin, harder and harder until I raise welts. When I cum, I have a tendency to shove a hand in my mouth and bite as hard as I can --biting myself both because the pain hurts so good, and because I can almost never bite someone else as much as I'd like to.
Because really now. Fuck I love pain though.
Yes, the above was brought to you by Tim Minchin. I agree with him, quite a bit --I'm a feminist and a half, but fuck I love boobs though, and the best thing about being a chick is that I get to play with breasts whenever I want.
I wouldn't rub it in, but it's just so much a delight!
In other news, at Frolicon (which I am *so jealous* that I did not get to go to, and it seems near-positive that I will be attending next year) apparently ShibariBoy got a chance to deliver his very first spanking.
It was apparently well received --spoken compliments from onlookers. Vocal compliments from the lucky girl in question.
Needless to say, my mind perked up at this point in the conversation. I have very clear internal rulings about spankings --I can't just get boys to deliver them. This is why, although BelovedBoy has reluctantly offered, I have declined. Because, while I enjoy the pain, but there's something more, just another little spark that makes it really fun.
I need to *deserve* the spanking. I need to be told by a sir that I'm a bad bad girl. I need to be bent over a table, or a counter, or a couch, or a lap, and wacked firmly and strongly. I need to count strokes with fear in my voice, and trembling, admit to what I did wrong.
Spankings are a delicious sort of pain. But they're an even *more* delicious sort of submission.