Tuesday, September 30, 2008

New Welts for a New Year

There are limits to what I am allowed to post about my lessons. And the limits are redefined after each of my tutor's visits.

This time I may say nothing about what was done. Only about the effects.

He was here.
I screamed.
I cried.
I came.
I smiled.

He left me with hot hard red welts, and hot hard red nipples that even untouched are screaming with pain. My neck is red and my hair is wild and I'm happy and drained and in a daze and my body is stunned and smiling and my mind... ah my mind...

I hope I can drive safely when I head back downtown for evening services. And I hope people take the look in my eyes for religious ecstasy. Which I suppose it is in a way. For I am certainly feeling worshipful. But not, at the moment, towards the God of the Jews.

I have my own God now. My own sadistic God at whose feet I gratefully worship by serving him in any way he commands. And I carry his welts as proof of the depth of my service. His welts that were so hot that they melted the frozen peas I used to reduce the swelling.

I learned many lessons this afternoon, in the time between day and evening services. I won't tell all of them here. But I will say this.

He is right. Well yes, of course, he's always right, you and I know that. But he is right about this particular thing. I am not a masochist. I am most definitely not a masochist. This pain I was subjected to, I would not seek it out on its own account. I happily, willingly, freely offer myself to it in order to please him, and I accept it gratefully as punishment and correction. But I suffered. I truly suffered. I screamed as I never have before, and I am sure this is not the worst that he will inflict on me. I am grateful that he used me for his sadistic pleasure, I am grateful that hurting me like that DOES give him pleasure, but he is absolutely right. I would never go to some stray sadist and say here, hurt me as much as you can because I crave the pain.

He is right. He is always right. I am not a masochist. I give him my body and my mind and my soul to torment for his pleasure, and it is in this service to him that I am fulfilled.

Thank you, Sir.
Thank you for allowing me to serve you.
Thank you for my lesson.
And thank you for finding me worthy of being trained.
I hope I continue to find favor in your eyes.


Anonymous said...

no, baby, you are a straight-no-chaser-masochist, he says you are
not for his ego's sake.

but you are beautiful in your own
glorious single-mindness.

oatmeal girl said...

I was dubious at first, my dear new anonymous commenter, but in fact my demon muse is right, as always. I am not a masochist. I am not driven by a need for pain but by my submission.

Pain has its function in my training, but it is not a NEED the way it si for the two real, live masochists that i know. And my limits are very low. It is the act of SUBMITTING to pain that is powerful for me, and realizing that I willingly submit to something I really don't like to show my obedience and my devotion.