Fitness Journal: Day 25

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Prompt:  What is a type of workout that you never expected to enjoy but now love?

I thoroughly enjoy beating people (consensually). I find it extremely amusing when a bottom says to me “Ma’am, are you sweating?” or the ever popular “You’re breathing hard. Are you okay?” I’ve had both of these things said to me by different boys after an hour of non-stop impact play.

You’re damn right I’m sweating. I’m in head-to-toe fetish attire and I’ve been doing aerobics for an hour, in heels! Put all of your clothes back on and come on this side of the paddle. See if you don’t sweat. I dare ya.

The Universe Speaks

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I don’t do change. Well, ok, I do but I would much rather not. I have always been an individual who desires order, schedules, plans, and routine to the point of ritual. For breakfast every weekday, I arrange 21 mini-wheat biscuits in four rows of five, frosting side up if you please, with the final square in the center of the bowl, milk poured down the side of the bowl so the arrangement is not disturbed. Rigid order. This is how I begin most of my days.

When I first joined fetlife and was prompted to select a status, I scoffed at “evolving”. Really? I thought, Isn’t that just another word for ‘I have absolutely no idea’? As it so often does, my scoffing has come home to roost. (Pardon my mixed metaphor.) Here I am, some 4ish years later, evolving. It is gut wrenching. Emotionally, it is perhaps the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and that is including divorce.

The role with which I have always identified has turned out to be a fragment of who I am, not the whole of myself as I had I thought. Additionally I, who until very recently had never struck another person in any context, have discovered that I enjoy hurting people. I want to leave my horribly beautiful marks on their bodies. I want to beat them with a variety of implements and cover them with inky bruises.

I recently made someone cry during an impact play scene. A first for me. I find crying to be disturbing. I want to make whoever is crying feel better. I want to comfort them. Or so I thought. When this bottom of mine began to cry, I checked in on their well being, asking if they wanted to stop while saying to myself pleasesaynopleasesaynopleasesayno over and over. The bottom did say no. They said it in a way that made me think they really wanted to say yes but did not want to disappoint me. I ceased play based on my gut, rather than their words, and began my cool down routine quietly bringing them back to center.

I have been having a tough time with these discoveries of self. I fought this part of me for an extremely long time. It got to the point that I could no longer lock it away. Now that it’s out, I decided to give it free reign. I have recently embraced this me. I have stopped constantly asking why and what’s wrong with me, and have started working on accepting. I don’t fully know how to reconcile the joy I get from causing pain with being a good person. It has been particularly difficult this week, as plans long talked about are coming to fruition with the speed of a runaway train.

With all of this on my mind, I logged into my reader tonight, looking for distraction, and found Thumper also speaking of change. Within his post were words I desperately needed to hear:

I think we need to allow ourselves as people to change more than we do. To see that in some ways our sexualities are fixed but the way we express them is more fluid. We need to not feel guilt for feeling the way we do if it’s different than “normal” or how we’ve been identifying for years. We will always be left- or right-handed, but we will not always draw with a crayon or write with a fountain pen or paint with a brush.

We are so much more complicated than we allow ourselves to believe and capable of so much more variety and experience than we’re aware. We should embrace that, not bury it. We should revel in it, not feel shame. …

Today, I am a different person than I was yesterday. Tomorrow, I will be a different person than I am today. I am going to work on dancing to the rhythm of who I am today, instead of trying to recall the music of yesterday.

Play is not (always) a euphemism for sex

There is a bit of a hubub brewing on fet about a post that suggested playing with someone is not the same as having sex with them and, therefore, was/is just fine in the context of the OP’s monogamous relationship. I came across a splinter discussion, as so often happens in fet land, which continued to explore this idea. The folks in the splinter discussion spoke in absolutes so emphatically that it got me thinking.

Since I began Topping, I have maintained that when I Top, it is not at all sexual for me. I also recognize that my bottoms may feel twitchy in their special place. I’m ok with that. Some of the discussion I read, made the argument that having a scene with someone is “intimate”. (I put that in quotes because it’s what was said, not because I’m being snide, as quotations can sometimes indicate.) I get that a scene can be incredibly intimate. I have a bottom who frequently states that when he scenes with me it is as if we are alone in the dungeon. His focus is entirely on me. It’s just the two of us. He forgets there are people watching. I’ve had that experience as a submissive. I understand entirely what he is saying.

When I Top a casual play partner it is not at all intimate or sexual for me. It is no different than a surgeon and a patient. I am gathering skills. I am deciding how best to apply my scalpel to serve this patient most effectively. (That’s a metaphorical scalpel, by the way. Intentional blood play is a hard limit.) I am instigating reactions. I am assessing pain tolerance. I am monitoring breathing and muscle tension. It is clinical.

I am as straight as they come yet I will Top a female just as readily as I will Top a male. In my community the females tend to be more fleshy. That’s a whole different way of Topping and a lot more real estate with which to cause pain. Fun, fun fun. Yes, please and, no, I will not be penetrating nor interacting with their genitalia. They will have to get their orgasm play elsewhere. It is no more sexual than a surgeon and the gall bladder she is removing.

That being said, I’m having all kinds of fun in the same way a surgeon loves what she does. I thoroughly enjoy finding new ways to cause pain. I love pushing my bottoms to take more than they have previously. I am comforted by knowing that every scene I have makes me a better Top as I gain more experience.

Ethically, I have zero challenges with casually Topping as many people as I possibly can.  If two people are in the same scene, can one have a sexual experience and the other be entirely focused on the mechanics of it? You betcha. Does that mean that the person not having a sexual response is, by association, having sex with the other? Nope. Not any more than the actress on the big screen is having sex with the guy in the tenth row covering his now bulging crotch with the popcorn bucket because my-god-she-has-fabulous-tits. Do I believe those who are monogamous can have multiple platonic play partners and still define themselves as monogamous? Absolutely.

Evolution

Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are. ~John Wooden

I heard this and thought. Hm. Maybe that’s the issue I’m having with discovering that I have an inner Sadist* It is an assault to my character.

I see myself as a kind, caring, empathetic individual. I’m genuinely concerned when I see others in pain, be it emotional or physical. I have given handouts to pan handlers because I don’t believe I’m here to judge whether they are addicts, mentally ill, or someone who’s had a streak of bad luck. I care. I want to help. When my people are hurting, I hurt. It is important to me that those around me, especially those I love, are happy and comfortable.

Given all of that, imagine my surprise when I realized how much I enjoy inflicting consensual pain. I’m not exaggerating when I say I struggle with it. Last night, during a discussion about that very thing, I made a declarative statement about how much I want to hurt people. Not a remarkable thing to hear in a dungeon space. Quite remarkable for me to say it without first beating back the thought that I’m a horrible person for feeling that way. The fact that I said it, I believe for the first time, without thinking there must be something wrong with me, is significant progress. I almost want that feeling back, that wrongness. Reflecting on this today, I had the feeling that there must be something wrong with me for not thinking something is wrong with me.

Perhaps what is most interesting to me about this evolution of my character, is that I do not now, nor have I ever, believed there is anything wrong with the individual who causes me pain. If I have no concerns about His psyche, or the psyche of anyone who inflicts consensual pain for that matter, then why all the internal hubbub about mine? Why this penchant for casting myself as some evil “other”, as if no one else on the planet shares this hideous, warped trait?

I’m pretty sure it is because sadism* is the polar opposite of who I thought myself to be. It might also be that if I embrace this truth about myself, then there is a fear about what else might be lurking inside, waiting to rear is socially unacceptable head. Am I not already enough of a freak?

Additionally, because I am evolving in a very public manner, my reputation and character are changing in tandem. Because, ya’ know, there isn’t enough pressure when altering the fiber of your being. Let’s add an audience.


*The generally accepted lifestyle definition, not the DSM diagnosis.

Many a tear has to fall

Today I read this: https://fetlife.com/users/8612/posts/1970457

I had a scene once. I had been playing pretty much all day..with a spanking here or there with close friends.

Then another close friend that I trusted agreed to single tail me. And it hurt…and I cried. It didn’t hurt in the ouch too hard way. It hit something cathartic I cant explain and the tears just flowed. I trusted my friend, my walls were down and the sensation of crack searing my flesh was over powering. Like it hit my soul.

And I cried out and I cried–the tears flowed and I felt silly that I couldn’t stop them. I wasn’t sad–it was more a relief emotion.

And my friend showed instant concern and care–softly rubbing my back, whispering softly, asking me if I was ok.

My response shocked me. But with some sorta bravado and a giggle as the tears continued like a waterfall…I asked “Do tears scare you?”

And with a hint of a smile, and a very Domly voice commanded me to “Turn Around!” (That was hot!!)

And we went deeper–three rounds deep until I was uncontrollably and freely sobbing. To say it was wonderful to be able to trust and open up that much is an understatement.

Sometimes when I cry now, I remember this day. Not all tears are bad.

This made me think about the times I have cried during play. About how it makes me feel that I’m weak. About how ashamed I am that I failed to be strong. About how crying makes me feel less “hard core”. About how this often happens with my back turned. About how I dread the moment I turn around because I know there are people watching and I’m a mess.

There were several comments on the post, a good many of which stated that the one commenting had never cried during play usually followed with “I wish I could”. Not a single person said they didn’t want to cry, or that they are embarrassed when they do. A few said they find it, or would find it, cathartic. Cathartic!? I don’t get that at all. How is failure perceived as catharsis?

I can remember the early days of play when there were no tears. I wonder what’s changed. Is the play significantly more challenging now? Is it somehow more emotional? Is the pain that much more intense? Am I no longer guarded? Is it a combination of all of these? Is it something else entirely? I wonder if I could prevent the tears if I wanted to, but then, they aren’t a conscious choice. There have been times that I’ve not been aware of them. It just … happens. How do I prevent something that I’m not consciously aware of? Should I even try? Does it matter?