We've been playing this game lately.
Me asking for pain.
I know, doesn't make sense.
And it's dangerous, or it can be, asking The Sadist for sex. That's the way I think of him sometimes: "The Sadist". In capital letters.
It's scary to wake The Sadist and invite him out to play.
Because pain, no matter how exciting and sexual and submissive and glorifying it is sometimes, is also pain. And it fucking hurts.
So, when it goes past the wonderful part, where I'm thrilled to be giving it to him, sometimes it's scary and awful and makes me cry and wish that he didn't do it, and makes me wish especially that I'd never been fool enough to ask for it.
It started over the weekend. We were playing and I knew he couldn't hurt me, not really, because there were limits on him that day, and I just knew I was safe. Weirdly, it made me think of pain, of him hurting me, of offering it, of wanting it, and I started to talk about it. I kept bringing it up, kept bringing the conversation back there, over and over again. How I wanted to offer it, wanted it, wanted it, wanted it.
Pain and sex and humiliation and submission and obedience and did I mention pain. It was about channeling submission into pain and offering it that way. Or something. It was wanting him to hurt me, suggesting ways in which he could, offering it over and over again, acknowledging how hard it would be for me to take it if he started, really started, but how much I wanted him to start, to give it to me, to hurt me. Begging for it.
If I'm honest, I was crazy for it Saturday night, in a frenzy of not getting it, jonesing for it.
Sunday morning I wanted it again. Pain. I could feel in my body where I wanted it, tits, ass, pussy. Pain. Delicious pain.
It's been a long time since I was so desirous of it. Usually I don't mind a little. Sometimes it's a trigger for sex for me. Often he blasts past the point where it's good for me and I just endure it because he wants it. But very very seldom it's something I crave. I was there.
So I asked him for it. Again. Sunday he gave me a little taste of it. I gobbled it down. Asked for more. He gave me another (smaller) taste. I ate that too.
Today, even smaller tastes. He's rationing pain. Doling it out like I'm in a pain diet. Stingy Sadist.
And he's giving me just enough to make sure I keep following him, begging for more.
I don't think it occurs to him that I will lose interest and wander off. And so far I haven't.
I still want more.
Pain whore he calls me. Yes Sir. Please.