"I need the pain." Those four words sum up the entirety of my desires. I am clothed only in my boxers, straddling the smooth wooden chair. Its cool wooden back pressed against my chest. My hands are tied to the top corners of the chair back, arms crossed and clutching the wooden frame. I close my eyes, laying my head upon my arms. I concentrated on the feel of the wood, its polished wood calming on my skin. I did not want to see or hear anything. I just want to feel. The blood rushing to the surface, the endorphins pumping through my arteries, pain flowing away. I want the flush of feeling to envelop me. I want the pain externalized, taken from me, excised. I want release, physical release. I need to empty the bottled up pain. I need to cry. I need to break down. I need to feel again.
I hear you shuffling behind me. I can't shut you out. Not yet. I feel too much. To many emotions are trying to escape. I need to focus on something simple. Physical pain is simple. It cleanses. It overpowers all other sensations. There is no thought. Pain simply is.
The leather brushes against my skin. Soft suede glides down my back, caressing my shoulder blades as I try not to struggle against my bonds. The leather flogger swirls against my skin with each twist of your wrist. It picks up pace, each brush of the leather sending sensations down my spine. It is not enough. I can still feel my anger, my hurt. I can hear your move. Feel the air move with each swish of the flogger. I'm still here. It is not where I want to be.
Sensation is removed, the leather is drawn back away from my skin. It is like the second at the top of the roller coaster drop. My stomach tightens, my breath catches, my muscles tense. The sting of first contact. The snap of dead skin on live skin, the rush of heat and blood to the area of contact. Release flows from the epicenter of impact. The point of connection between you and I radiates pleasure from the pain. And only pain.
