I had a conversation recently which started me thinking about how I feel about pain.
I don’t consider myself good with pain. I have a ridiculously low pain threshold, so I can’t take as much pain as many other people seem able to. That said, having a low tolerance for alcohol doesn’t change what being drunk feels like, so I feel my feelings are simply easier to reach than some people’s (the SM equivalent of being a cheap date I guess).
Pain is something I sometimes crave. I like what it can do, how it frees my mind from everyday thoughts and awareness, it becomes like a form of meditation. I want to let go, to lose my worries (and I have too many of those), to stop thinking, to reach that state when there is only physical awareness. Only now. Only me.
Alternatively, there is the pain I do not choose. Given because another wishes to give it. This pain is part of my submission. To receive what is given, whether pain or pleasure, letting go of control, no matter the outcome.
In either case too, there is curiosity. Wanting to know how it feels. Wanting to see how much I can take. Wanting to observe my own reactions. I am my own experiment, something to occupy my thinking mind.
Those three combine, giving me the motivation to accept pain. Then comes the moment when the reality of it hits me, when I know that pain is coming, and it is going to hurt. I am filled with dread, I want to draw back, to escape it.
And yet, if I did escape it, I would feel that I had failed. Failed to be submissive enough and brave enough. I am always amazed and grateful that Perrin does not let me fail, seeing past that moment into the next for me.
After the apprehension comes the pain itself. I try to prepare myself and yet the reality is always sudden, surprising and overwhelming. I breathe it in, concentrating on it, rising and falling. I try to bear it well, to receive what is given gracefully. In that moment I can be fully submissive, giving myself willingly, and I find my own pleasure in that wild abandon of self.
Afterward, he is pleased with me, and I can delight in his comforting, and I find myself willing to do it all again.