Argentium has already written a beautiful account of one of the things that we did while we were together last weekend. In thanks, I'm going write about a different part of it...one that was much different in tone, but possibly much more meaningful...at least to *me*.
We had spent the afternoon out and about, seeing a movie and then going to a bar called Fast Eddie's Bon Air (which is an experience in and of itself. If you're ever in St. Louis, you *have* to go to this place...). This has to be the *only* place I know of that bikers mingle with yuppies on a regular basis eating Steak on a Stick and peel and eat shrimp with not a disturbance to be seen in sight, other than the occasional grumble about not being able to find a table. It's usually standing room only. :)
The whole time we were out, Tiger had this....look on his face. It was very interesting spending the afternoon classed as "prey". For...eh.....prolly close to 7 or 8 years now, Tiger has wanted the chance to hurt me, you see, and we've never managed to have the chance to actually follow through on my promise to let him. *grins* Now that I *belong* to him, there is no more putting it off, and we both know it.
So, I'm sitting there eating my shrimp and waiting for my steak while he just watches and we talk about a whole host of things. The better part of an hour later, and much consumed food, we decide to head back to the place we're staying. The night before I'd given Tiger a letter that I wrote about three weeks ago, telling him about what I was feeling at the thought of being hurt by him....how nervous I felt, how worried I was that I would not be able to play that way.
It's been a very long time since I've played with floggers and pain. I thought that I didn't like it, among other reasons. This promise had been hanging over me in the back of my mind and worried me for a long time. I knew that Tiger was a sadist, and that I would have a hard time with some of the things he would want to do. *chuckles* I got a taste of it the night before when I started begging for him to stop hurting one of my nipples as I tried to crawl across the bed and escape it and he just said "Not this time."
*whimper* :)
When he started pulling out the floggers, I just kind of sat there and fidgetted. How....graceful of me :) He told me where he wanted me to be and I tried to find a comfortable spot on the floor, draped across the end of the bed. I don't know if *any* place would have been comfortable at that point.....
Tiger makes two different types of floggers, and he had both of his with him. He also has an older style of one of them (at least I think it's the older style) that he's given to me, and I brought that one, too. There is a very definite difference between them all, even though two look almost identical. His first stroke caught me half by surprise and I think I squeaked.
There were times that I wanted to turn around and rip the flogger out of his hand...to scream at him to not hit where he was....times that I wanted to just sink into the floor and go away. Somewhere in there I started to cry, something that I hadn't expected. It just hurt. He would stop every once in a while to check how I was....to stroke my back...and to bring me a kleenex to wipe away the tears before he would start all over.
He decided that it was enough when I started crying almost too hard to breathe. I think he cooled my back off with ice. I know I felt something like cold water on it. He told me to get up onto the bed and lay on my stomach and he sat down next to me and just softly stroked me.
Something possessed me to ask him to use wax on me and I think he just chuckled and had me roll over. I must have looked puzzled as he started to take a pillow case off of the pillow because he told me he wanted something over my face to protect it. I suggested that he go get a towel. :)
The wax was completely different than what I'd felt before. Maybe it was because he was dropping it onto cuts and scratches and punctures from the claws that he'd given me the day before. Or maybe I was just so hypersensitive that it *felt* different. The burns were indescribable as each drop fell across my breasts. I wish I could have seen the look on his face. It must have been incredible.
There was just this....loop that seemed to exist. He'd drink in the pain and it would make him do more and I would hurt...never ending...
We got interrupted in the middle of this and I ended up getting up and going into the restroom and catching my breath. Which was a mistake, I think, because I just fell apart. I started crying and couldn't stop. All of the pain of the last couple years welled up and just came out. Tiger knew that all of this might come up. He's been beside me for most of it in one way or another.
I don't know how long I sat in the bathroom and cried. It felt like hours, though I'm told it wasn't that long. Tiger came and got me out and made me lay down and let me cry myself out until I could tell him what was going on. And we talked about the pain and hurt and fears that had been brought up.
I learn so much from him. I just get to the point that I think I know myself, and he shows me something new. Sometimes that is utterly frightening. Sometimes that is the way it should be. I doubt that it will ever stop being that way.
