Conclusion - Part 3

“I squealed as he struck me for the second time, and then I heard myself shrieking as I had never done before, with my nails compulsively clawing and releasing the edge of the mattress, while he kept beating me unmercifully with the slow, steady, relentless rhythm which was the same as when he was taking possession of me; and my shrieks grew worse, he shifted his arm which lay across my shoulders and buried his hand in the nape of my neck and held my held down and held my face crushed against the bed, half choking my cries.”

My need is not for pain. My need is not for humiliation. My need is to have my emotions and mental state controlled to a point that I don’t struggle, or revel in the struggle. What I find most often is this costume of a lifestyle, or a latent infantilism in the games and desires professed by these men claiming to be Doms.

Yet I continue to bide my time here, surrounded by those who slip on a skin of submissiveness or domination with no thought of anything but sexual deviancy. And while I’m continually disappointed in the intelligence and sensibilities here, I have found a strange sense of family…a friendliness rarely encountered elsewhere. This, in and of itself, is enough to stay, enough to consider real-life acquaintanceships, enough to play for the sake of playing.