Discovering New Kinks
As I mentioned in my last post, Mrs. AP and I had a long talk wherein she helped me realize that I hadn’t been paying the amount of attention to her that a dedicated loving partner should. I had, in truth, been behaving selfishly. At some point during the discussion, Mrs. AP brought our her Coffin Case and opened it. Her Coffin Case is her Domme toolkit; within it she has multiple floggers, a small whip, and several riding crops with various tips. To work out some of her frustrations, she started testing each of them out across my ass and back. Although she stayed mostly light with her lashes, some of her instruments deliver a sharper bite than others and left marks that stung for hours. It’s only the second time she’s broken out the toys on me — I have sensitive skin that welts easily and with that comes a remarkably low pain threshold — but this round lasted longer than previously. All told, I think she spent about 10 – 15 minutes on me. I think. I’m not entirely certain, for you see, I think I started entering subspace.
For those who do not know, subspace is a floaty, disconnected feeling one gets during intense (or sometimes not so intense) sessions of either physical or sexual (and possibly emotional, though I’ve not fully tested that one) exertion. In particular reference to the Fetish / Kinky / BDSM environment, it is the head space a sub enters during a Scene. If the right amount of force and the right rhythm is obtained, somebody can slip into subspace very quickly and once there endure more force, faster rhythm, etc. It is, in my limited experience, very similar to the runner’s high I used to get during my days running Track and Cross Country. It also has a very zen meditation aspect to it, as thoughts stop sticking and just start running through and out again without any chance to stop for tea and biscuits.
During the limited time in which Mrs. AP was decorating my ass and back with marks from her various toys, I started slipping into the edges of this subspace. I was surprised, particularly because she wasn’t being forceful at all, but between my lack of sleep the previous day and my overnight shift, I must have already been fatigued enough to allow the transition to subspace more easily. While I’ve not been there much, I’m getting better at identifying the transition and listening to my body. In this instance, I can deduce only one thing; I like a being on the receiving end of Mrs. AP’s toys.
I’m still processing that a bit. I never liked being the target of pain from others as a child, and learned to fight back hard when others attempted it. Giving in, letting go, and just receiving the strikes as they land and mark and caress my skin is a difficult thing for me to do. Despite the fact that I am normally a more passive, care-free, willing to follow another’s lead kind of person I still like maintaining the illusion that I have SOME control over an outcome. When Mrs. AP was testing her toys on me, I had no control. What she used, where she used it, how hard she used it, and how frequently she used it was all up to her. All I could do was lay there and take it, and the anticipation and uncertainty of the next strike built and coiled and twisted around each other to help push me into subspace. It’s disorienting, discovering something about yourself unexpectedly like that.
I’m definitely thinking this is something she and I need to explore further. Maybe I’m more resilient than I give myself credit. Maybe I can take those loud, biting, explosive hits that leave welts for days. I don’t know. But the more I reflect on the experience, and how quickly I started to hit subspace, the more I want to test how far I can go.
And then, like a good Switch, I’ll start turning it around on Mrs. AP and see how well she takes it.
Stay SINful, friends.