Erotic torture at the hand of a good Dominant can leave lovely souvenirs of a good time had. It might take the form of bruises, welts and scratches on the submissive’s body. Seeing color and patterns appear on the skin from BDSM play can be almost as intoxicating to the Dominant as the submissive’s screams and cries.
I am reminded of Sir M’s delight in inflicting corporal punishment on me every time I rub arnica cream onto my sore butt to reduce the redness and welts that linger days after our scenes.
My last session with Sir M began with 10 hard whacks of his paddle on my naked butt that turned it completely red, like a monkey in heat. I was to count each strike and say, “Thank you, Sir. This will not happen again.” It was my punishment for not following proper protocol the weekend before.
I’d lost focus that night and forgotten to stand and walk on his left side and open doors for him. For this offense I was beaten so hard that by the fourth strike I had trouble speaking and by the ninth I couldn’t hold myself up. The paddle left an outline mark on my right butt cheek that lasted for days.
He hugged me and caressed me after the tenth strike and reminded me not to fuck up again.
My tattoo blushed
Sir M gets a kick out of snapping the tattoo of a geisha girl on my hip with his riding crop — aiming to make her cheeks blush red. It is a super sensitive spot on my torso so her blush comes at great pain to me. He also enjoys carving long lines and designs into my skin with his deadly sharp knives. (“Bad kitty did it to me” is my typical excuse if vanilla friends or family remark on my deep scratches.)
The marks from a BDSM session, frightening and beautiful in their colors and textures, can be a badge of courage among masochists. Some subs can’t wait to lift their skirts to show off their welts and bruises, to demonstrate how much pain they can endure in submitting to their Doms.
In my case, as a non-masochist, I find myself totally fascinated with the marks left on my skin from Sir M’s hands and toys. I love to inspect the bruises he inflicts on my butt and thighs and follow their progression from red to a bluish purple to yellow-green and finally back to normal as they heal.
The bruises left by a Dom’s hands are only skin deep. There are psychological effects from BDSM play that can continue for hours or even days after the session. Probably the most pleasurable is known as subspace. This is an altered mental state caused by endorphins released in response to erotic pain. This state might typically last 20 to 30 minutes or longer after the scene and leaves the sub with a floaty sense of well-being. For me, it can range from feeling relaxed and spacey with lower pulse and heartbeat, to completely being in a trance with no perception of what’s going on around me.
When I go into subspace deeply I cease to hear anything in the room and I feel in a calm, meditative state. Sir M has told me after I return to reality that I’ve gone deep into “La La Land.” I often have absolutely no recollection of what has happened during that time. It’s a delicious feeling of complete transformation and the euphoria lingers a good, long while.
But occasionally the effect is just a depleting spaciness — in rare instances that can be hard to shake off. I had this experience recently when I played (did a BDSM scene) with a new partner at a new club. I teetered on the edge of subspace but wouldn’t let myself quite let go to get there. And after the scene we were distracted and not able to do proper “aftercare.” This is usually a quiet time to help the sub recover and get grounded and is an essential part in the process.
Too much of a good thing
I was spacey for the rest of the evening and wasn’t able to feel grounded. I drank a soda, got some fresh air, and eventually was OK to drive home. But I went to sleep in that altered state and wasn’t able to get a full night’s sleep. I awoke just as spacey and depleted as I’d felt when I went to bed. It was a reminder of last night’s fun, but felt like an ugly, undeserved hangover. To my dismay, the spaciness lasted for the entire next day.
I started to feel alarmed. One person suggested I take a long hot shower. Another person suggested I eat chocolate and drink lots of water. I took all the advice and on the following day I felt slightly less spacey but not back to normal.
Fortunately, my lover J had the intelligent solution.
He came over the following morning and crawled into my bed.
He smacked my still sore buttocks briskly enough to wake me up and then cuddled up behind me.
He tugged my not-quite-healed nipple piercings hard enough to make me wince and yell “ouch” Although it hurt, it did jolt adrenaline through my system. Better than a triple espresso.
J worked his deceptively soft hands down my front, then gripped my outer thighs. His finger fluttered along my clit then slid under to feel the juices running from my cunt. He pulled me back against him by wrapping his large arm around my chest while he worked his finger inside me. I felt warm waves of pleasure travel from my head to toes. When I climaxed my muscles clenched so hard it almost pushed his finger out of me.
The combo of sexual stimulation and pain brought me to a heightened state of erotic pleasure and afterward I felt mental clarity for the first time in days. The best cure!
Daisy TraLaLA (@daisytralala) is a saucy Angelino kinkster who glides with ease between the worlds of tech, art, cuisine, electronica and dungeon parties. Check back every Tuesday for posts from her journey to the most divine surrender.