Laeiryn
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 30, 2004
- Posts
- 191
Hi. I'm a lil new around here, but this is something I've always been curious about, so let me ramble, and please answer.
Masochism is when you are aroused, or feel pleasure from, pain (Right? Perhaps not a literal definition, but relatively accurate). Now, I'm kind of a masochist, but only to a degree. I can scratch myself, and it feels -good-, but the thought of being whipped, of feeling serious pain, it's not the kind of turn on as superficial pain. Does that make me not really a masochist?
For me a lot of it's psychological. I have fantasies of being spanked, fisted, all sorts of things that would indeed cause pain. Is there a line of tolerable pain? Is that normal?
In relation, my masochism extends to minor bloodplay. By this I mean that I can take a knife and slice a long, shallow cut along my leg. My breath will quicken, my pupils dilate, I start to get hard and wet. The blood that wells forth is something beautiful, pristine, and yes, it hurts, but it's so, so good. I cannot, however, cut myself deeply; I've tried, but it just doesn't work. I suppose that is confirmation that I'm merely perverted and not suicidal. I get off on doing that to myself, on the cold kiss of steel, but the thought of a cat o' nine, of being -beaten-... it does nothing for me. What's with that? Got any shrinks in here?
Masochism is when you are aroused, or feel pleasure from, pain (Right? Perhaps not a literal definition, but relatively accurate). Now, I'm kind of a masochist, but only to a degree. I can scratch myself, and it feels -good-, but the thought of being whipped, of feeling serious pain, it's not the kind of turn on as superficial pain. Does that make me not really a masochist?
For me a lot of it's psychological. I have fantasies of being spanked, fisted, all sorts of things that would indeed cause pain. Is there a line of tolerable pain? Is that normal?
In relation, my masochism extends to minor bloodplay. By this I mean that I can take a knife and slice a long, shallow cut along my leg. My breath will quicken, my pupils dilate, I start to get hard and wet. The blood that wells forth is something beautiful, pristine, and yes, it hurts, but it's so, so good. I cannot, however, cut myself deeply; I've tried, but it just doesn't work. I suppose that is confirmation that I'm merely perverted and not suicidal. I get off on doing that to myself, on the cold kiss of steel, but the thought of a cat o' nine, of being -beaten-... it does nothing for me. What's with that? Got any shrinks in here?