Standard disclaimer applies. This talks about no-safeword playing and self revelation. If you have a problem with either, then don't read it. Or bother to flame it for that matter.
Well, seeing as how everyone writes about their playtime with glowing happiness, I thought I'd throw a dash of reality into the pot and write about one of the times that didn't go so right.
One evening, while everyone else was out of the house, Master and I sat snuggling on the couch. We had talked before about trying to do a scene without a safeword. The idea was very appealing to the both of us and we felt that we were at the point that we trusted each other enough to be able to do one. I had talked to Master before about gradually working up to a non-conditional no-safeword scene through a series of smaller scenes where we gradually allowed more and more pain to be introduced into the time period that he had to do whatever he wanted. We both felt that it would help us to get used to playing safely without a safeword.
But that night, as we lay there, he whispered into my ear that he wanted to hurt me, to take away my safeword and do what he wished to me. And I wanted that too. So instead of trying the outlined stuff that we had talked about before, I gave him my safewords with no conditions, for the remainder of however long he wished to play that way.
Master sat there for a moment before telling me that I had to a count of 10 to get up to his room, two steep flights of stairs, and be on my hands and knees naked. Anything over ten would earn a stroke of the crop. I made it in 35. Never having had a crop used on me, I was unaware of exactly what one felt like when swung with a fair amount of force.
The first stroke made me scream and start to cry. The second was worse. By the third stroke, I wanted desperately to call my safeword, because there was something wrong. But I knew that it would not have any effect. Somehow I managed to make it through all 25 strokes. They were not soft, introductory strokes either. At the end I was sobbing almost hysterically, something that I never do. Master may bring me to tears, but I am a very quiet crier. THe entire bed was shaking as he instructed me to stay that way until he returned. I did, and managed to stifle most of my crying, until he came back up and roughly cuffed me to the bed. Which started me shaking and crying and twisting, trying to get away from him and out the door. Something that I never do.
After picking up the flogger, he started to hit me again, harder than he usually starts. Which set me off one more time. I tried screaming at him to stop, that I didn't want this anymore, anything to get him to see that there was something dreadfully wrong at that moment. And he stopped for a moment, thankfully, and asked me why I didn't want this anymore. Because he was doing what I had asked him to do.
Once he stopped and I could control myself enough to answer him, I told him that it was because I was scared of him. That I was scared of the person that he had become because I couldn't feel the caring and the love that had always been present when we had played before, and that I had come to depend on to let me play on the edge like we did sometimes.
At that point, he decided that he was going to call safeword on the scene. I'm not sure if it was because of my being frightened of him, or if it was because he felt that I could not go on, and that trying to would only make things worse. Either way, he untied me and pulled me into his arms to make everything better.
And even now, as I sit here writing this, I can't say that it was a bad experience. At the time, it was, but it also taught Master and I a lot about the both of us. I learned that I can not take the levels of pain that a lot of other people out there can. And that I am more dependent on being able to sense what my partners are feeling and the care and love that is there when I play with people. And I learned that for all that I've been around here a long while, there are still thousands of things left to learn and experience, even if some of them I don't like. And that those are sometimes the best teachers of what is inside of all of us.
