finished my exam. maybe did ok? the best (worst?) part - i started my period literally right as the exam ended. am now crampy and grumpy, and also am mentally and physically exhausted - amazing what stress can do to a girl.
so glad to be done, though. back to regularly scheduled programming soon. sorry for the hiatus.
I love that someone captured this moment. It’s a moment I’ve seen on many occasions, yet it remains thrilling each and every time. The moment when it becomes real for her. The moment when you’ve finally cut through the bravado, the “I can take it”, the “do your worst”, the “Oh yeah, I’ve got a really high pain threshold.” The moment when this is not a fantasy, not a theory, not something read and masturbated over, but something very real, very visceral, and very now. This is the moment when it isn’t ‘play’ any more, when it isn’t a happy little beating, but… it’s something delightfully more.
When the pain has become too much, when it’s just not fun, when it’s literally becoming torture to go on. When all she wants is for it to stop, but knows deep down she doesn’t have the power to make it stop. The shivering body, the shaking head, the eyes close to tears. This is the time when she realises she may have made a terrible mistake. And the time when things are about to get interesting.
Her ability to control herself, to keep her reactions in check is, to keep perspective and know that ‘really’ she’s safe, is failing. If she could get away she would. Her courage is running out, her willpower ending. She’s about to break.
It’s a sweet, delicious, moment. From here things become so pure, so intense. She becomes a raw never of emotion. It’s not what she imagined, because we cannot imagine such extreme emotion. It’s not what she remembered because we can’t entirely remember these things either… we cannot hold onto them or recreate them in our mind.
This isn’t for beginners or dabblers or those who haven’t educated themselves, but this is where the true journey of submission leads. Really, it’s where the true journey begins. The self is about to break, the illusions are about to dissolve, the truth of things is about to appear.
The dark path to wisdom and ecstasy begins in the moment she says no - and means it - and you press on anyway. That’s the time when you both learn what it truly means to submit.
Ugh. Have huge exams coming up next week and am so, so sick of studying. But I’m panicking enough at this point that I’m not going to procrastinate anymore. This means that I’ll not be writing much over the next week or so. I’m not disappearing, just making sure that I pass the test so I can continue on with my career is planned. I’ll be back soon…unless I run off to South America and indulge my escapist urges. That might actually happen.
Wow - somehow in the last 48 hours I gained something like 15-20 followers. I’m going to attribute that to my feminist rant, and then feel encouraged that there are so many people who appreciated it instead of deciding I’m a humorless man-hating shrew. Welcome, all! Please accept a picture of my bruised ass as a token of my happiness for your deciding to stop by and stay awhile.
For those of you who were with me last week, too, you may remember that Sir owed me a punishment for not telling him I was cumming. You may also remember that I received my punishment today at 10am. He made me strip, lay on the bed with pillows under my hips, and present myself for a spanking. At first it was just his hand - the warmup, he called it - but after a few minutes he took off his belt and informed me that I was responsible for counting his strokes. The magic number was 50. I could see him growing harder each time the belt thwacked my ass and he fucked me hard from behind when the spanking was over. He got off on smacking up against my new bruises and making the dull ache turn into a fire-y burn.
I have to admit that this is a punishment I wouldn’t mind receiving again (which means I probably won’t). While we were cuddling afterwards, Sir checked in to see if the punishment was the right combination of unpleasant but not actually harmful. Of course I would have used the safeword if it had been too much - and in the spirit of honesty I allowed as how I wished he’d hit me harder, or hit me more. I wanted MORE. 50 may have been his magic number, but I think we both learned that not only is my pain tolerance is far higher than I’d imagined, I want us to find the limits of that tolerance and ease me just a little ways past it.
I think we’ll work on that, but also work on finding punishments that are actually effective as punishments. Suggestions welcome….