"If only pain weren't so painful!"- Albert Fish
It has taken me a very long time and a lot of soul searching to finally admit to myself that I'm a masochist. Even three or four years ago I was still in heavy duty denial that that was the case. I've been a hard player for years and when tops (or even other bottoms) would tell me "Cheryl, you're a masochist" I would say "No, I'm not!". Somehow, enjoying the pain of a good spanking wasn't the same as masochism. I always pictured masochists in chains and a collar being tortured while blood dripped from their wounds. Perhaps that's an incorrect assessment, but that's how I felt. No way was I one of them. I have enjoyed being strapped over fresh cane welts, being paddled hard over already bruised flesh, and a lot of other things that would make most people cringe. But, because my first love is spanking, people call me "practically vanilla". But would a vanilla lady enjoy having the fronts of her thighs caned? Or being strapped for an hour or so with an Arkansas prison strap? Not very likely.
Most vanilla women (and most men for that matter) that I know would turn tail and run if a big 6'4" cowboy named Bubba walked up to them carrying one of those things. Yet, I love it, as my smile surely attests.
But why pain? Why not something else? Even to someone who loves it, pain hurts. Pain is what I love, what I at times dread, what I need. I don't think of myself as someone who needs to be constantly punished because my existence is an abomination. I hold down regular jobs, have normal, non-kinky interests, and hate humiliation (something I used to incorrectly think that all masochists were into). There are times when I'm afraid of just how much pain I can take in the right circumstances. Outwardly, I make the same faces that most spanko bottoms make when something connects with their bottom.
But inwardly, I'm in total masochistic heaven. Even the bath brush, which I hate with every fiber of my being makes me push my bottom out to meet it. So here's the conundrum...I love pain and even love the marks that show up afterward. But emotionally, I wonder if it's not time to dial it down a couple notches? Physically, I have no problem taking just about anything the sadistic bastards I play with want to dish out. But sometimes, my emotions get the better of me afterwards and, after the sadist packs his toybag and heads for the door, I sometimes find myself either feeling angry or crying my eyes out. I don't feel like it's something I can ask about on Fetlife because people would all have something to say on the matter that has nothing to do with what I'm asking. I also don't feel like it's anything I can talk to those sadists about either. Though I know a couple of them would be more than happy to hold me until I get out all the stuff that needs to come out.
So here's another thing that sticks in my throat. When I first started in the spanking scene, I just wanted my bottom beat. I didn't want any of that other stuff--like cuddles or talking time. Just lotion was sufficient. Now I find myself needing more than that. I do need to be held sometimes and given chocolate and a cold drink. I don't want the guy to just beat me and leave. So broaching the subject is hard. I have always considered myself a lady who has no problem coming out and saying what she needs. But it seems to be on everything except my need for some kind of comforting after a really intense scene. I think some Chinese food would be very comforting indeed. Or maybe just a chocolate shake or something. But I'm afraid it would be regarded as me "going soft" by the people who have known me for so long.
Eventually, I'm just going to have to put on my Big Girl Panties and bring it up the next time I get together with someone.