Dented but not broken.

I hesitated before starting  to write this blog today which is about last nights events. I still feel a little fragile about what happened and how I felt emotionally, and the impact it had on MT. It is also difficult, because it is part of  one of the least flattering  and hardest elements of my slavery. On reflection, having discussed it with MT, we decided that as it is very much a part of my life I should post it, not to do so would create a false impression.

The fact of how much I love MT was tested to it's fullest, I love her totally and I know she did not mean to hurt/ upset me in any way (other than her usual amount of physical sadism).

Dinner was great, MT cooked and we had some wine. After a relaxing coffee I was told to strip and crawl, nothing unusual there, and of course I was fitted and wearing my collar. The part I had been dreading 'go and fetch me the Tyburn love' was of course dutifully carried out. Positioned firstly on my back, my front was whipped, the pain horrible but within my threshold, just.

I was then repositioned onto my front, I asked to be excused a back whipping as my spondylosis was exceptionally painful after my days work. MT was very considerate and kindly acceded to my request. The Tyburn is an evil tool and I sincerely regret buying it. At first, although the lashings to my buttocks, thighs, calf's, ankles and feet were very painful they were sort of OK - if you are the property of a sadist like my owner you must learn to take pain, it's part of the territory. I utterly hate pain, but, in a fucked up sort of way, I have started to need it to help keep me focused and in check, so it works for us.

It was probably about 30 minutes before I started to feel like I could not take any more. |Each lash felt worse than the previous one. I could tell by the downward force and swishing sound in the air that they were of varying force, but the pain just seemed to build and build. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be screaming 'fucking well stop this'. When in pain, I grunt, shout, scream, swear and sometimes when she is especially brutal end up sobbing, its pretty normal, and I did all but the latter.

My right buttock in particular felt like it was on fire and every blow was just so unbearable. In hindsight, I realise it was this painful because it had lots of cuts on it that are not healed yet. I just wanted to get up, I wanted to shout 'stop fucking hitting me you bitch' and other such niceties. BUT of course I couldn't  could I? I am her property, she is free to do what she wants with me and it is my duty to try as hard as I can to make her happy, so I angrily, begrudgingly lay there and took it, until I eventually screamed so long and loudly that MT realised something was wrong.

I could tell she was very concerned, but to be honest, I was not focussed on her needs at that time. I had sort of 'shut-down'. I had become detached, I felt this huge sadness within and all around me. I felt empty and alone, lost, unloved, hurt and I suppose a little broken. I did not feel the rage I had when being beaten, just the opposite, I felt calm, calm but detached. On reflection, this is the third or fourth time this has happened when I have been beaten and have not been able to deal with the pain. There must be some kind of trigger that gets operated, perhaps its a chemical thing, some kind of protection device to anaesthetise things, to shut me off and help me survive. I hate this feeling so much.

MT was great as usual, she was worried because I felt like I did, I did not want her to feel upset, I wanted to tell her I was fine, that everything was ok, that I loved her with all my heart, but I couldn't. Although I knew the words were there I just could not access them, I just could not tell her those things. MT hugged me in bed, we got up to see the New Year in, watched some TV and went on the computer etc and then went to bed. I still felt the sadness and all the other things, but managed to utter the words 'I love you' before we went to sleep.

In the morning, I felt slightly better, but still hollow, we talked about it and I will post about the content of those discussions in another blog, because it is quite complex and is deserving of it's own space.

I wanted to feel ok again, I wanted to feel again, I wanted to say 'it is all ok I love you'. So when MT went to the bathroom, I went to our silver case, took out the strap on and put it on her pillow, and when she returned asked her to 'make love to me' (a phrase that is absolutely never usually associated with her fucking me like that, but it felt appropriate today, like it conveyed what I couldn't). Which she did, at first gently and then with most of her usual vigour and then I felt I was at 'home' again. Where I belong, serving my Owner and telling her how much I love her.

I still feel a bit shaky but much better than I did and reconnected to my owner. Being owned isn't easy, especially to a harsh sadist like my owner.

However it is where I belong.