Cruelty and Catharsis

In my bed I had been warm, but on the floor, I was shivering even with a blanket over me. I curled up, wanting to play but not wanting to leave the confines of the blanket, not wanting to suffer the coldness of the room or the discomfort of the floor. I was tired and cranky. And as he pulled the blanket off of me and stood over me, I realized that the only way I was going to be able to play would be if my discomfort were a part of the scene, and if it were to be constant, unrelenting discomfort, unrelenting pain. I needed to be able to be cranky and to squirm and shake and cry, and for that to be okay, for it not to stop the scene.

“Can we not stop unless I safeword?” I asked him. “Of course,” he said.

(NOTE: This post contains explicit sexual imagery and descriptions of BDSM play.)

“I want you to be cruel,” I said, and he understood. He kicked me, stepped on me, forced his boot into my mouth, and hurt me until I was earnestly trying to crawl away. He pulled me up onto my knees by my hair and slapped my face. I felt a lump form in my throat, and I suddenly began to cry, violently, exhaling deeply from my stomach. My mind was spinning, confused by my reaction and by the fact that I wasn’t safewording. He asked me a question and I didn’t understand, I couldn’t understand any of this. I want to shut everything out and he won’t let me, he keeps pulling me out of myself, pulling out my breath and my sobs and my pain. And I feel like I’m going insane and I feel like that’s okay… I spoke nonsense, I jerked my head from side to side, I cried and moaned. None of it fazed him. And suddenly, it was gone, and I felt exhausted and limp.

“I think I’m done,” I said.

“You want to stop? Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. But I think I’m done.”

I let him hold me, and sat there quietly with him, slightly shaken, but feeling safe and…what was this? Content? Did I feel content? What the fuck just happened? How is it that I was uncontrollably crying a few minutes ago, and now I’m feeling some sort of afterglow? I showered and got into bed with him. We curled up with each other, and I was amazed at how normal everything felt. For about twenty minutes, I had felt absolutely crazy, the sort of out-of-control crazy that I feel when I’m having an attack of overwhelm or panic or depression — but those attacks are unrelenting, lasting for hours or days, and leave me shaken to my core for even longer than that. This was like a condensed version, with a safety net. It was probably the closest I’ve ever felt to true catharsis.

3 comments so far

  1. Meta on

    “How is it that I was uncontrollably crying a few minutes ago, and now I’m feeling some sort of afterglow?”

    You’re not alone. I find myself in this position quite often, actually. It makes sense that after you’ve released so many emotions in a short, intense period that you’d feel calm and content.

  2. ranat on

    Sweet. Your condensed suffering sounds like a really awesome alternative to the long drawn out one. I really like getting perspectives like this from submissives. And it was hot. 😀

  3. delirious on

    i’m just reading your zine recently and feeling funny how similar (not exactly the same thought) things happen; i mean around emotional release, mediated by sexual-masochism 😀 i get those kind of catharsis too sometimes, usually when am in kind of distress. i don’t know where u live, but it seems people think far liberated than where i live now. i live in indonesia, and here, if u’re woman, and u have free-sexual relationship (without marriage), most people reckon u as being slutty. haha…

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