Vulnerability

J3 and I have had another successful session together. He used a flogger I recently bought and a ruler to finish me off with. This being the first time using the flogger and under the influence of painkillers (my knee has been hurting a lot lately) I can't rightly say how exactly I feel about it. The flogger is certainly a nice warm-up tool, but it was the ruler that really did it for me. The sound and sharpness with which such a simple tool makes when contacted with my skin drives me to a point that is something like bliss.

And this game we have agreed to, J3 and I, to test my boundaries... to see how far J3 can go before I yelp "yellow" (the stock word for slow down) or "red" (which means stop all together). I enjoy that game. I enjoy swallowing my pride to admit what I see in that moment as weakness or flaws. It's almost like my ultimate submission, saying, "yes, I have acquiesced to your demands, I have nothing left to give... use and treasure my body as you see fit. I am broken by you." The best part is each new time we play I build up my strength, my tolerance for each new act.

As opposed to when we were in a relationship, we are exploring and actually doing a lot more. I've made it clear to him that I want less talky talky and more doey doey which, to his credit, he has stepped up and followed through. Much to our equal enjoyment. I have a great deal of darker desires that would be filed as abusive in any other category or setting -- like getting slapped in the face (which pretty much sends me to the moon). Today was also the first for that too. He would choke me until I nearly passed out and then slap my face and call me dirty things. That cycle of brief unconsciousness and abrupt awareness ... I can't describe how frenzied and turned on it made me while we fucked. And under the haze of morphine that's saying something.

Of course, after all the name calling, all those times he strikes me so brilliantly, there is the aftercare. There is that cosmic convulsion of laughter and heavy breathing. Of two naked bodies pressed so close, their breaths tickle the other's skin. There is the moment that fades into silence, the lightest of strokes through the hair of the woman and the invisible swirls that are painted on the man's body. In that eternal moment of muted compassion there is reflection, silent thank yous, and gentle kisses. There is relief and mutual respect.

Now, for all of those who caught that sudden third person transition might be asking what the--? And it was completely on purpose. Because I don't like how vulnerable that type of aftercare gets me. That's the type of vulnerability I get to work on, while enjoying great sex. A side bonus, if you will.

Either way, all seems good 'round these parts (a sudden deluge of income for me wouldn't hurt either).