Dear sadistic doms & tops,
You get a bad rap, but I know (and hopefully you also know) that you conjure magic.
When you sink your teeth into my neck, or drag your nails up my thigh, or beat a bruise into me with a wooden paddle, my eyes roll back in my head and I say a silent prayer of gratitude – because you take my thoughts away, and no one could ever give me a better gift than that: a reprieve from myself.
When you tug on my hair at the base of my skull, or land a leather flogger fast and hard on my back, or pour blazing-hot wax on my skin, I let all my focus flow to the places that hurt – and in so doing, I close up shop on the parts of my brain that I hate, the parts concerned with being polite and respectable and good. All that matters is getting through the pain, and so that is all I focus on. And in that beam of blinding light, my brain becomes beautiful, defragmented, free.