I’m pretty open in my vanilla life about my not so vanilla extra-curriculars. It’s kinda hard not to be when your friends have this odd fascination with smacking your ass, walking into your room when the door is closed and scrolling through your phone and coincidentally your photo gallery (thank you photo locker for existing so I can safely hide my naughty bits from prying eyes).
Even some of my family knows about it, since they are fully capable of reading and I’m not really shy about writing about my life whether it be in book or blog. It’s way less stressful and I don’t have to hide my truths from anyone. Sure, I still have to field narrow minded comments like “abuse” from people who refuse to understand that I have quite literally asked for what I’ve gotten, thoroughly enjoy it and at any time, with a simple word, stop it from happening. Those people will always exist in one form or another so I try not to let it get me too bent outta shape.
The other day after celebrating my birthday, I had a friend message me and ask if she could sit down and talk to me. I wasn’t really surprised because the scene did briefly come up in conversation when another friend asked me about where he could slowly dip his feet into the scene. The friend that wanted to talk to me is the save the world kind and I normally love that about her but I just wasn’t interested in that kind of mentality when we talked. I don’t need saving, at least not the way she wants to give it.
Reluctantly, I agreed. She had after left some stuff in my car so I figured 2 birds and all that jazz. She told me some stories then eased into what she really wanted and I had to carefully maneuver those waters. I explained to the best of my abilities what went into a scene, the negotiation and agreements. The understanding between those involved. I could tell she had a million questions so I promised to answer them 1 by 1 as best as I could. Most of them where pretty straight forward and simple. Then she asked me what I got out of it, I was ready with an answer till she waved off that question and asked a new one. She asked me what it felt like and why I did it.
What I feel when bottoming is hard to put into words. Why is even more complicated. I was pretty much at a loss for words, which is not an easy task to accomplish with a person like me.
I do it because it feels good felt like a cop-out statement. It sounded fake and empty. I do it for so many reasons and none at all, which includes the empty sounding it feels good comment.
I do it to feel in control and to feel out of control all at once. That surrender is intoxicating. I do it so I can breathe and lose my breath. I do it for release from my pent up emotions, to make sense of the clusterfuck of thoughts in my head. I do it to allow myself to feel strong and weak. A reminder that I am only human. I do it to remind myself I am capable of trusting another person. To prove to myself that what is broken can be mended and time heals. I do it to save those around me from the snarkiness that ensues when I don’t get my spankings. I do it for all of those reasons and more. I guess the simplest of answers is that I do it for me but even that feels like an incomplete answer.
It feels like heaven and hell and all of those sensations tie into why I do it. The sting, the throbbing, the burning and that soothing touch. They are all powerful and beautiful feelings. But I find the most potent feelings come from playing with someone you want to give those same feeling to. Someone who can read your body and push you to limits you didn’t know you could reach. Trusting someone with your body in the intimate way that is involved in this kind of relationship is a beautiful thing. To me it is more intimate thing then your typical relationship. There is a magnificent give and take between the those involved, a dance and a song.
I guess, I do it for the symphony of two people dancing to a tune no one else can really see or even feel the exact same way.
A beautiful symphony of pleasure and pain.