Who couldn't benefit from a good cry now and then? I think I've always known the cleansing release of crying. What I never thought I'd find myself feeling is the need for physical pain resulting in that release. It still spins my head around when that very specific craving strikes. I mean who stops and thinks, "Wow, I'd love someone to inflict so much pain on me that I cry." That desire confuses me almost as much as my rape fantasies, but I don't shut them out. It was in the grips of a very deep loss that I found myself wanting this.
I have yet to specifically request this from anyone but I've been lucky enough to find myself in the right place at the right time more than once. Tonight I was driving home (where I do my best thinking) and thought about my first co-bottoming scene with K a few months back.
K and I met thanks to a very special person in our local community and I count myself lucky to call her a friend and someone I can trust. It was in her dungeon space where I found myself naked, blindfolded and covered in clothespins with twine wound back and forth between our bodies threaded through the pins.
We were facing each other. Our hands were bound and above our heads. We knew we were in the same predicament even though we couldn't see one another, and when she stepped back and said it was now up to us to free ourselves I thought I would never get through it. I thought surely I would safe. I also thought in that moment that our friend was very much like Jigsaw in the SAW movie series. I could hear "RED!" in my head but something stronger than my thoughts took over in those first seconds and I found myself taking the lead and stepping backward away from my love as the pins began to pull at our skin. It was thrilling. A complete high ran through every part of me. Don't get me wrong, it hurt like hell but it didn't stop me from pushing through it. Somehow I knew there was more to feel.
We reached a point where the last groups of clothespins held tight to our fleshiest bits and the only option was to yank ourselves apart. K was free first and that left two very tender spots left on me. Our dear, sadistic, and wonderful friend stood next to me and steadied me while placing her hand over my mouth as K gave the first yank. I screamed into her hand and felt something tear apart inside me. The final motion was even more painful than the last and as I felt the bits of my skin ripped free I sobbed into her hand. It felt amazing. There were far too many emotions running free in that minute and it really only was about a minute, but it felt like I'd been held under water until my lungs were about to burst and suddenly I could breathe again.
There are other triggers in my life that make me cry. Generally it's brief but enough that I feel a hint of that same release. It's good, but so far, nothing has compared to the tears I shed through physical pain in the kink setting. It makes me think and even worry a bit. I suppose at the point I'm running around parties begging people to make me cry I'll really be concerned. Until then I'm content to offer myself up to Jigsaw now and again to "play a game".
