the marks of a slave

Um...yes. :D

The answer to your question is kind of boring. Sorry. I could try to be poetic but the fact is that there was very little conscious thought about pain at that time. It was just part of the job and you did it and...yeah, that's it. To say, "No, I can't do another take", well, you had better be missing a limb or have blood geysering out of a gaping wound, or you would simply never be hired again.

And that happened. Some newbies just couldn't hack the pain and wussed out and dropped off the map. Evolutionary winnowing.

Side note: One of our inside jokes was that we used to tell people, "We have a 100% injury rate in our business."

The adrenalin/endorphin rush I got doing big/dangerous gags far surpasses any of my BDSM experiences. Not just because of the intensity of the action, but also because the stakes were so high. That is to say, you have a shitload of people watching you, a good performance can make your career a bad one could kill it...or you. Not to mention how expensive some of the gags are to set up.

I don't think all stunt people are masochists but they take a different view of pain than the average Joe. And yes, your pain tolerance/risk taking threshold goes up as time goes on.

Looking back, I can see how much I loved/hated those painful moments but at the time it was just what I did. Perhaps the key difference is now I get to bask in the afterglow, I don't have to be all John Wayne after a good pounding. ;)

Not the most exciting answer. Sorry.

Are you kidding? It's a great answer. (I especially love the image of you as John Wayne after a good pounding. :D)

There are lots of people who love impact, pain and all

As a specialist in the history of children (you would think it would give her some expertise, hunh?), my mother did a lot of research on "boys" for a publication she edited. She informed me, when my son was a toddler, that boys need to feel impact as part of their healthy development. It helps them develop a sense of their own identity as a physical being in space.

I'll let others argue the merit of that research, but it transformed my understanding of the nature of impact.
 
I've not really wanted to submit to Hubby in over a year but I've made myself do it, acting out the right part. At first I'd quickly fall in the role and the acting would turn into reality.

But it has been growing harder and harder to the point that the last time, I just broke down. I did not tell him why as I honestly did not understand it myself at the time. All I understood is that I was having problems with submission but not the extent of them.

After that, he laid off for a while and life has been going on.

Something just happened that hurt me and unpleasant words flew. I apologized and took my share (and then some more) of the responsibility of it, to get over and done with as there is no solution but for me to move on.

However, Hubby has decided otherwise: he wants me to submit to him. Tomorrow. His subconscious needs and demands that my will should bend to his as a proof of his righteousness and of my defeat. He's not aware of such subtlety. For him it is simply his Domly ego demanding his dues.

But when the order was delivered, I realized that I cannot pretend and act the part any longer without it risking to damage my love for him.

So here is my quandary: refusing would be taken by him as the beginning of the end, as me withdrawing my love; however accepting could mean the beginning of the end, of me starting to withdraw my love.

I'm going to try to find my way out of it ...

Sorry to change the direction of the exchanges ... :rose:
 
So here is my quandary: refusing would be taken by him as the beginning of the end, as me withdrawing my love; however accepting could mean the beginning of the end, of me starting to withdraw my love.

I'm going to try to find my way out of it ...

:rose::heart::rose: What are you going to do?

Others may chide me for what I'm going to say . . . and it may be well-deserved. . . But it is astonishing to discover that love can survive its own absence. Like a resurrection, love can die and re-emerge, sometimes even passing through a kind of purification process in between.

The question then becomes - can we forget the moment that love "died"?
 
:rose::heart::rose: What are you going to do?

I did what I had to: I let him lead and I followed without opposing any apparent resistance and he got what he wanted.

And an unlikely ally has helped cover up my true emotions (I'd never thought I would be grateful for the lack of empathy brought on by a mixed bipolar state ...) ...

Others may chide me for what I'm going to say . . . and it may be well-deserved. . . But it is astonishing to discover that love can survive its own absence. Like a resurrection, love can die and re-emerge, sometimes even passing through a kind of purification process in between.

The question then becomes - can we forget the moment that love "died"?

I think you never forget. You simply decide to let go and forgive.

And I agree with you that "love can survive its own absence", with the caveat that it can only do so when its place is taken by its opposite equivalent and equally powerful sentiment: hate.

It is when love dies to become indifference than there is no resurrecting it back for me.
 
Last edited:
I did what I had to: I let him lead and I followed without opposing any apparent resistance and he got what he wanted.

And an unlikely ally has helped cover up my true emotions (I'd never thought I would be grateful for the lack of emphatic brought on a mixed bipolar state ...) ...

I think you never forget. You simply decide to let go and forgive.

And I agree with you that "love can survive its own absence", with the caveat that it can only do so when its place is taken by its opposite equivalent and equally powerful sentiment: hate.

It is when love dies to become indifference than there is no resurrecting it back for me.

Are you angry? :rose:
 
Are you angry? :rose:

Not really.
I'm tired and emotionally drained.
A bit worried about the social consequences of the incident that brought up the whole situation (I might have lost the mentor guy) and questioning if I should not just retire my kinky public self and put my poly heart in hibernation.

Thanks :rose:
 
Not really.
I'm tired and emotionally drained.
A bit worried about the social consequences of the incident that brought up the whole situation (I might have lost the mentor guy) and questioning if I should not just retire my kinky public self and put my poly heart in hibernation.

Thanks :rose:

Yea right, retire? Me thinks you are too far down the rabbit hole.

It's just drama, and ceasing to be, or do wont fix it. You have to find a way to get all the drama flushed out, no keeping score or anything, just say it's too much trouble and be gone with it.
 
Wait a second. I thought slaves couldn't own anyone, not even Marks? :confused:

My first thought: Do we own our own footprints?
My second thought: Do I own the impressions others leave on my body and my mind?

Wait, now I'm confused.

Who am I? Am I what I own?

Who is Marks?

(My autospell checker is suggesting that you might have meant "Marx"? Now I'm riffing down corollary paths of state-owned sex slaves and manifestos of communal property. Oh yeah, I claim ownership of those thoughts. There. I did it, I just planted my flag in that virgin territory. . . . I wonder if it's fertile ground.)
 
Not really.
I'm tired and emotionally drained.
A bit worried about the social consequences of the incident that brought up the whole situation (I might have lost the mentor guy) and questioning if I should not just retire my kinky public self and put my poly heart in hibernation.

Thanks :rose:

Is your husband uncomfortable with the relationships you're developing?

Given the circumstances you're in, it may be necessary to hibernate for a period. It doesn't mean there won't be opportunities to "wake up" all that energy in the future when conditions are more favorable.

Do you think there is a way of mending the rift with the mentor? He seemed to be opening doors that I know I would be unhappy to close and lock up forever.
 
Yea right, retire? Me thinks you are too far down the rabbit hole.

It's just drama, and ceasing to be, or do wont fix it. You have to find a way to get all the drama flushed out, no keeping score or anything, just say it's too much trouble and be gone with it.

I have to disagree. It may be drama. But when there is a marriage and children involved, you have to choose your priorities. It has been necessary for me to cut off my extramarital activities for periods of time in order to rediscover balance and - yes, cheesy as it sounds - harmony within the marriage and family.

There are times for sexual self-discovery. There are times for taking care of the people who are dependent on you. Sometimes you can do both at once. Sometimes you can't.
 
My first thought: Do we own our own footprints?
My second thought: Do I own the impressions others leave on my body and my mind?

Wait, now I'm confused.

Who am I? Am I what I own?

Who is Marks?

(My autospell checker is suggesting that you might have meant "Marx"? Now I'm riffing down corollary paths of state-owned sex slaves and manifestos of communal property. Oh yeah, I claim ownership of those thoughts. There. I did it, I just planted my flag in that virgin territory. . . . I wonder if it's fertile ground.)
No, comrade! I mean more than one Mark, which happens to be a guy's name. One Mark, two Marks. :D Other slaves, commie! :p
 
No, comrade! I mean more than one Mark, which happens to be a guy's name. One Mark, two Marks. :D Other slaves, commie! :p

No wonder we are so prone to misunderstanding one another!

I was referring to the leftover currency from my trip to Berlin in 1989. You know, an - albeit obscure - reference to the tangible evidence of transient, fleeting, yet life-changing, experiences. The kinds of experience that make walls fall down.

Sadly those marks were replaced by a new and younger currency in the years since.

Ain't that the threat that hangs over us aging slaves?
 
No wonder we are so prone to misunderstanding one another!

I was referring to the leftover currency from my trip to Berlin in 1989. You know, an - albeit obscure - reference to the tangible evidence of transient, fleeting, yet life-changing, experiences. The kinds of experience that make walls fall down.

Sadly those marks were replaced by a new and younger currency in the years since.

Ain't that the threat that hangs over us aging slaves?

You're sad... about currency? o_O
 
You're sad... about currency? o_O

I am currency. :eek:

So, yes. I am sad at the transience of arbitrary attributions of value.

Believe me. I have seen my exchange value shift on a daily basis. . . .

In fact, I've sometimes convinced myself that my desire to be slave is in direct proportion to my desire for fixed and certain assessable value.
 
Yea right, retire? Me thinks you are too far down the rabbit hole.

It's just drama, and ceasing to be, or do wont fix it. You have to find a way to get all the drama flushed out, no keeping score or anything, just say it's too much trouble and be gone with it.

You'd be surprised how well I can lock down part of myself when the time is not right. I'm not saying that it is healthy though.

But you are right, I need to be better in not keeping score.
I thought I was not doing it, but this last event has showed me that I actually do. Because is when I keep score that it turns into drama instead of a bump in the road.


Is your husband uncomfortable with the relationships you're developing?

His rational self is happy for me and very supportive.

However his instinctual one, the one that rises his head when he is in any other state, is selfish and unable to relate with anything and anybody but his own fears and needs. Those are the times he feels the need to "show who's the boss" ...


Do you think there is a way of mending the rift with the mentor? He seemed to be opening doors that I know I would be unhappy to close and lock up forever.

I've no idea of the damage done, as I was actually on the outside of it and have not heard from him since.

There is a previously scheduled event with him coming up next week-end so I'm waiting to see if I get details emailed to me.

I truly hope that I'm exaggerating the impact. But the rope world, for the little access I had to it so far, seems to be populated by big egos and long lasting grudges and rivalries ...
 
You'd be surprised how well I can lock down part of myself when the time is not right. I'm not saying that it is healthy though.

But you are right, I need to be better in not keeping score.
I thought I was not doing it, but this last event has showed me that I actually do. Because is when I keep score that it turns into drama instead of a bump in the road.

You could try picking something nice, and focusing on that.

Like, "Husband, we have got to talk. You know how you ____, I fucking love that shit."

You know, fill time with positive things instead of negative
 
re: exchange

Yes. Unpredictable pain is inherently exciting. But it's conditioning that makes it sexually pleasurable. The same unpredictable stimuli could be entirely unpleasant, for instance, if it was routinely followed by nonconsensual abuse or violence.

Predictable pain, on the other hand, - like the counting of the cane strikes - really hurts, not only because of its intensity, but because its intensity is amplified by anticipation. My fear of the pain gets added to the mix, and I have to actively fight against my impulses to move away.

That's when I have time to engage with the pain, feel its contours, its energetic nature, when I have narrative moments as "slave" - talking myself through the experience - reframing it in my mind as something I wanted, watching my mind and body work - so to speak - before the chemical cocktail gets shaken up and I'm riding the endorphin high.

But it still hurts. Any pleasure I feel then is due to satisfaction in my ability to take what I'm being given or a kind of detached fascination with what my body and mind is experiencing.

Your comments jibe with my notion that pain is best thought of as a tool. Yet I am still read with interest in how you in the role of the sub use the pain in your own way. The infliction is the normal agent but you take it to another level and make your reception another factor. So does this make pain a metatool?
I know that you use the word fear but is that the real emotion, given that you are such an actively engaged participant? Is there perhaps a slight selfheightening of the fear so that the letup after you have counted out your strokes has completed? A kind of tension built up so that your release becomes more ecstatic?

I am off for a cold shower now.
 
I am currency. :eek:

So, yes. I am sad at the transience of arbitrary attributions of value.

Believe me. I have seen my exchange value shift on a daily basis. . . .

In fact, I've sometimes convinced myself that my desire to be slave is in direct proportion to my desire for fixed and certain assessable value.

Do you feel like you're undervalued, es?

signed,
longtime reader :heart:
 
Your comments jibe with my notion that pain is best thought of as a tool. Yet I am still read with interest in how you in the role of the sub use the pain in your own way. The infliction is the normal agent but you take it to another level and make your reception another factor. So does this make pain a metatool?
I know that you use the word fear but is that the real emotion, given that you are such an actively engaged participant? Is there perhaps a slight selfheightening of the fear so that the letup after you have counted out your strokes has completed? A kind of tension built up so that your release becomes more ecstatic?

Pain as metatool? I'm not sure what that might refer to . . . but it brings to mind the moments when the energy released in the pain serves to excite both of us, making him want to hurt me - not as a demonstration of dominance or to modify behavior - but just to increase the energy coursing between us.

Fear is not wholly negative. Even as an engaged participant, I feel fear. Sometimes as tension. Sometimes as anticipation. Often as a moment of resistance.

Fear as a component of sexual excitement is heady stuff. I love it for the edge it offers me to jump from.
 
I am basking in the glow of two weeks in which he felt the happiest he's ever been.

It is not difficult to offer someone an opportunity to be happy. It is much more difficult to receive the gift.
 
We're officially "friends with benefits" now. Married w/children, M/s, and fwb. Weird.

But it works. A mix of fixed long-term bonding and detached insecurity that seems somehow more true than any other paradigm we've attached to our partnership.

And, of course, he's grown more attractive to me. Really, stunningly attractive, as he becomes less certain in my life.

I watch him across the room and can't believe my great good fortune, even as he gently pulls away.
 
And "what does this have to do with slavery?" new readers may ask. . .

The most significant effect of living as a slave is not - in fact - the opportunity to live one's fantasies. Somehow, as soon as it becomes reality, it loses its fantas-tic nature.

The most significant effect is the steady conversion of the slave's will to the master's. Which doesn't mean I can't be as strong-willed as the next one.

It just means that all my exertion is wasted energy, cramped and gutted, until it is aligned with his will.

But I think it's a fair system, for his will must be large enough to encompass my own if he has any hope of channeling all this energy effectively. My will has elements he will never fully control. And until he is able to see me for everything that I actually am, I will inevitably chafe at his lead and drain his energy with my erratic and undisciplined actions.

He is also bound by the truth of my being. And can feel equally dictated to by its inert reality.

It's a fair system at the root.
 
Last edited:
And "what does this have to do with slavery?" new readers may ask. . .

The most significant effect of living as a slave is not - in fact - the opportunity to live one's fantasies. Somehow, as soon as it becomes reality, it loses its fantas-tic nature.

The most significant effect is the steady conversion of the slave's will to the master's. Which doesn't mean I can't be as strong-willed as the next one.

It just means that all my exertion is wasted energy, cramped and gutted, until it is aligned with his will.

But I think it's a fair system, for his will must be large enough to encompass my own if he has any hope of channeling all this energy effectively. My will has elements he will never fully control. And until he is able to see me for everything that I actually am, I will inevitably chafe at his lead and drain his energy with my erratic and undisciplined actions.

He is also bound by the truth of my being. And can feel equally dictated to by its inert reality.

It's a fair system at the root.

Your past few post have been so full of peace and joy. I truly hope that is how you are feeling right now. :heart:

You know that you are one of my heroes :kiss: Such honesty and openness is very rare.
 
Back
Top