Saturday I had a bruise the size of a nickel.
You're probably wondering why I'm relating such boring, humdrum minutiae, but just keep this thought in the back of your mind for me.
Saturday was the official celebration of the one year anniversary of myself and my Master. I came over Saturday evening and cooked a lovely dinner, and then LD brought out the toybags and a very sturdy armchair.
Imagine if you will, a sturdy wooden chair with arms, and myself tied quite securely to it. Shoulders braced against the back of the chair, forearms resting and tied parallel to the arm rests, legs tied at the knee to the bottom of the arm rest. Rope across my back immobilizing me.
And then the beating began. Hard and fast, it did not take long for the first tears to fall. Screaming commenced shortly afterwards. With very little wiggle room, there was nowhere for me to go, and Master was relentless. With a hand over my mouth to muffle my screams, He soon progressed to gagging me with His cock, and then finally with a towel in order to change angles. Whippy rope floggers, our bamboo stick (I refuse to call it a cane, it's aprox an inch in diameter), His fist, the dragontail whip... all met my flesh intimately - the only part of me that was safe, where those that were inaccessible thanks to the chair. The hard, wooden chair which ground in to my shins and shoulders and knees with every attempt to writhe in pain. Blow after relentless blow all bled together in to an endless sea of pain.
Eventually Master accidentally hit my Christina with the tip of the dragon tail, not once, but twice... I had to tap out. I have never felt like more of a failure in my life.
Untied, I was weak and shaky - in shock from endorphins and pain and all of those wonderful things. Plus I had managed to lose the circulation in my calves and feet, and had been immobilized for... I don't know how long actually. Master got me in to bed where I promptly could not stop crying for a myriad of reasons, none of which I think I was capable of articulating clearly. Master stayed with me, cuddled close, and spoke soft pretty words to me while he warmed me up and brought me water and tissues. Eventually I slipped off in to slumber.
The next morning I woke up stiff and sore and tender. My shins, my shoulders and my ass were all painful just to walk around - let's not even think of sitting down or putting pressure on any of these spots.
However.
Three days later... still tender... but no bruises.
At this point, Dear Readers, I invite you to remember my first story, and share a hearty "WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL?!" with me.
My body does this too. Though I've never been beaten like THAT. If I hit my thigh on the table, an 'ow', I'll think nothing of until later when I see the deep purple bruise. Meanwhile the hubby spanked me the other day, a first for me in, a long long time, I screamed and cried, and I've been sore for almost a week now, but do I have a bruise, or even a red spot for it? noooooo. bah!
ReplyDeleteThe only theory I can offer at all, is this: when our bodies are prepared for pain/damage, they handle it differently than when there is a sudden injury.
The hit to my thigh was totally unforeseen, the spanking on the other hand, I at least had a few moments to prepare myself mentally for. Perhaps this makes the difference?