The other night we had a particularly intense scene. He warmed me up by spanking me for about ten to fifteen minutes, had me do some fellatio and then caned me for twenty minutes. He ‘s caned me once before and it was really good, but this time it crossed the line into the sublime. I don’t think I’ve ever gone that deep into subspace before and truthfully I did let him go on for longer than I should have if the bruises on my ass are any indication. After he was done, all I could do was just lay there, moaning softly for the next ten minutes or so.
Sub-drop hit me pretty hard and it made me question why I like this. I mean, my husband just beat me with a stick for twenty minutes and I actually squirted while he was doing it. What did it say about me that I enjoyed the hell out of it? These thoughts really upset me and despite our normal aftercare routine I was actually in tears over it. I mean, what was wrong with me? He’s spanked me in the past, even gotten me into subspace a few times with it and that seemed all right, not great but I could parse it. Being beaten with a stick and wanting more? Somehow this was completely different.
He cuddled with me, told me there was nothing wrong with me. Liking this didn’t make me a bad person. It was something that happened between two consenting adults in a loving manner. He was amazed at how I took it, how long I lasted. He couldn’t get over the fact that I trusted him enough to let him do it to me in the first place. He just kept holding me and praising me, telling me over and over that there was nothing wrong with me for wanting this. I finally calmed down, but I didn’t know how much I believed him.
I was physically punished as a child and still suffer from some trauma over it. Finding sexual gratification in an activity so close to one that terrified me is a bit hard to process. I have to remind myself that the other night came from a place of love and trust. It was about giving up power, not having it taken away from me. There was no anger, no punishment. I didn’t beg him to stop only to be ignored. Yes, the activities are very close, but they aren’t the same. Like a belt is a rock hard limit for me, I will never let him strike me with one because of how it was used on me as a child. This was just a stick. What was so bad about a stick?
It all comes down to trust and consenting adults which when you get down to it aren’t so different. I know I enjoy pain, that I find sexual gratification from it and most of the time this sits just fine with me. Every once in a while though I question it. When I was sick we put practically all things BDSM away, but especially anything that involved pain. I was in a state where I was self injuring and we both were afraid of my using that as a means to hurt myself. I guess that is one of the reasons why I question it. On the surface, how different is the bite of the cane from a slash of a knife? There is a big difference though. He was not punishing me when he was caning me. I trusted him with my body, knowing he would never really hurt me. Yes, sitting has been a bit on the painful side for the past two days, but there’s hurting and there’s hurting. That’s what I need to get through my head. Not all pain is bad. Not all pain is punishment. The bite of the cane is about consent and trust. I’m not punishing myself nor am I being punished for some arbitrary reason like being bad. This is a lesson I need to wrap my head around, but one that I know I’ll be revisiting often.
Second Honeymoon 