My name is Disposable Darling, and I'm a masochist.
mas·och·ist /ˈmæsəkɪst/ [mas-uh-kist] noun
1.Psychiatry. a person who has masochism, the condition in which sexual or other gratification depends on one's suffering physical pain or humiliation.
2.a person who is gratified by pain, degradation, etc., that is self-imposed or imposed by others.
3.a person who finds pleasure in self-denial, submissiveness, etc.
I really like the fact that the first definition is defined by Psychiatry. I'm already defined by the label of bi-polar so this new definition makes me laugh. This leads me to the conclusion that I am inherently crazy and so are the majority of the people I hang around with. Most of my friends these days are heavily involved in the kink community and I myself am heavily involved as well.
Underneath my clothes right now I'm sporting purple bruises and red raised welts. There are cane marks all over my thighs and single tail lashes on my back. There is an unidentified red mess on the right side of my ass. There are even marks around my neck and faint marks around my wrists where the leather cuffs bit into my flesh a little from being chained to the ceiling and struggling.
Last night was what I would classify as a good time. Being choked, slapped and having delicious pain inflicted upon me by someone that thoroughly enjoys watching suffering. It remains to be seen if he particularly likes to watch me suffer, I'll get back to you on that one. R. can be extremely sadistic and although we have only done a scene together twice he is by far one of my favorite sadists to play with. He's intuitive and has this knack for knowing just how much you can take without pushing you over the edge, well at least if you don't want to be pushed over that edge.
If you would have told me 5 or 6 years ago that one day I would enjoy being tied up and beaten, I would have laughed. Perhaps you would tell me that I would enjoy being humiliated or degraded and then I would have most certainly been "ROTFLMAO" as the saying goes. What changes a person? What turns that switch? Is there a switch? Have I known all along that I was a masochist? No, of course not, this discovery of the extent of my masochism is so new to me. I never would have thought that suffering would be a turn on.