There are five different kinds of masochists. Okay, who am I kidding? I know nothing about masochism, and for good reason: I know only one kind of masochist: the fickle kind because that’s me. I don’t go out looking for sadists. I don’t need someone who will flog and whip me. Pain just doesn’t do it for me…until it does. See? Fickle.
“If you ever hit me, I’ll leave you immediately. I won’t even try to forgive you.” That’s what I said to my last dom. It was a very submissive moment. The top who came before him (in more ways than one) wasn’t a sadist per se, but (don’t judge me) he did brand me with a cigarette and…oh, god, I can’t believe I told you that. I can get pretty hardcore with pain, and I’m quite ashamed of it. I Photoshop my scars out of my Fetlife photographs. Shit. I can’t believe I told you that. Let me try to be a bit more secretive from now on. I have scars in places that have never seen the light of day. Fuck. I can’t believe I told you that.
I’m interested in the deeper mental aspects of power exchange. I’m more of a sensual-dom-type. If I go through the rest of my life without another flinch or scream, I will miss pain as much as I miss cabbage (hint: not at all), but there are certain men who bring out the raging pain slut in me. It always surprises me. Always. My ex and I fell into the S&M thing by accident. Them’s the breaks with a couple who knows nothing about BDSM and hard limits. Now I know better.
Not too long ago, I met a Dom and suddenly found myself thinking, “I want you to hurt me.” The one before him was not allowed to take a single paddle to me, but with this one, the hardcore masochist came out, and I tried to tell him what I was thinking. Somehow I think I fucked that part up, though, because he instantly gave me a lecture about consent. That’s what happens when you have no awareness or understanding of your masochism, which is what happens when you belong to the clan, Fickle Masochist.
Then it happened again—another sadist came along who stirred up my confusion. I started to wonder what it was about these men that made me think pain was a good idea. All three were safe, but that’s no different from any dom I might choose, so what is it about these ones? They were all a little bit evil, but unlike the doms I’ve considered getting to know on a more intimate basis, they had a twinkle in their eye that said, “Basically, you’re fucked, but I’ll be having at you with the glee of a two-year-old who just met chocolate for the first time in his life.” Unlike others, these sadists knew how to grin (and smirk). They knew how to have fun. They saw sex as play. They took a different kind of pleasure out of their sadism—a kind that isn’t serious and straight faced. A sadist who gets joyfully giddy about his wants and needs brings out my ‘Hurt me’ thoughts.