I used to think that I had a high pain threshold but since starting this journey and talking to some masochists I am less clear about that. I think that I have a good level but when you play in the safety of your own home, without an audience, you really don’t have much to compare it with.  I know that I like the ache of his nipple clamps.  I know that I enjoy the sting of his hand, the slap of his crop and the thud of his paddle. I also know that I melt at the pull of my hair and the fire of his cane and that sometimes I burn to feel pleasure in the way that only the edge of pain can bring me. However, I do think that although sometimes I feel that I need the pain, it brings the pleasure to me, rather than being pleasure on its own.

Muscle memory can mean that the pain sometimes becomes pleasure much more quickly than it might. This works because your mind remembers and so does your body. So if you have experienced the pain, shortly followed by the pleasure of a climax then your body will remember that and move more quickly to the pleasure part. In fact you can actually get to the point where the pain alone will trigger a response because of the associations to the pleasure and I would say that often I am at that point, particularly when something like the cane, or an erotic spanking is concerned. This is also helped by the regularity as my tolerance has built the more that we have played, and the regular caning, following our communication session on a Wednesday has certainly played a part in that.

Although I have wondered how my pain tolerance compares to others, I realise that it does not really matter.  I do listen to those who describe themselves as masochists talk and think that probably a label like that would not be one that would fit me. However, my vanilla friends would quickly jump to the conclusion that it was an apt description if they had even an inkling of the way that Sir and I use pain in order to bring pleasure and achieve an ultimate high. Part of the excitement I think, is in the fear that the anticipation brings me; even though it is now a regular part of our play, I still find myself wondering if it will hurt.  The obvious answer is ‘yes’ but I suppose what I really asking myself is if it will hurt too much.

Enter – The Howler (pictured above).  Now this piece of rubber was thoughtfully given as a gift to HisLordship back in February by his good friend in Norway.  It was aptly named by his submissive, and my good friend, sometime prior to that as she is the original recipient of its older, and no less lethal, brother. And it was lovingly given a carved whale handle by Sir, just this afternoon, and is now ready to go! And all I can think, surrounded by all this love and generosity, is – oh shit, that is going to hurt! Now probably a real masochist would be thinking – woohoo lets get dinner over and get ourselves upstairs. But for me it feels a little exciting and a lot scary.

I feel somewhat reassured by the fact that my daughter is at home so any noise will have to be kept to a minimum and tonight will likely not be the night. Phew! But then I feel a sense of disappointment as I am interested and intrigued and don’t want to miss out. Again, my world of contradictions is at large. The pleasure, the pain; the fear, the excitement; the yes please, the no way. It is a good thing that I am a submissive as the whole thing is far too confusing to make a decision. Left to my own devices my anxiety would limit me and make me squirm out of it and my passion and spirit would feel frustrated, cheated and full of regret. So to hand over to someone else, to go with what is decreed and melt into becoming what you need to be is an escape indeed.

Whether the howling whale of Norway visits tonight to send me swimming into a sea of my own, will not be my decision and that is a good thing. I can trust that, even though I feel scared, I do not need to be. Sir is aware of my limits and he knows how to bring me pleasure through the pain. He has become adept at reading the signals and can tell from my breathing, my movements and the sounds that I make, whereabouts I am.  He will talk to me and check in with me when necessary and will use my responses as another gauge, so ultimately I know that I am safe. The badge of masochist is not one that I wear, although I do enjoy the pleasure and escape that impact can bring.  I crave it at times and need it at others, and ultimately I enjoy the emotional calm that I can be left with after play of this sort.