This is a short excerpt from a post I wrote that I found in drafts of an old blog – I don’t think it was ever posted anywhere, but WordPress helpfully showed me the date it was created: November 17, 2013. It was written as a recap of the November OTK Night – the monthly spanking party at Paddles NYC – a now-closed BDSM club that was in the garment district. I remember this scene though, beyond what I wrote about it here.
I was struggling to take a paddling that a regular play partner at the time, wanted to give me. Instead of being over his knee, I was bent over still from a strapping. I suspect this is why I struggled to take it – he was using my African Blackwood Miss Rose Paddle (which I mention here) and it’s a dense and stingy hardwood. His response is in the excerpt below. He is one of the few – actually, so far, the only – people I’ve played with that I’d allow this type of rough D/s feel with. It was very him and felt right, and I loved it. I wanted him to hurt me. I wanted to feel a bit overpowered.
-M
Yesterday, I was on a roll. It was like my heart had reignited, and I was pouring out passionate messages on all sides, spreading ideas and (I hoped) encouragements, simply because I could. Simply because the river of wild words was flowing through me again.
Today, I’m stalled again, badly, in that Hemingway-esque “the world breaks everyone” way. Struggling to be me… to find me.
From here, I’d so like to let myself break… to have someone by my side who would take me there… who I could trust to take me there…
so the me I lost could rip free again.
Not because it matters whether I write anything or not today… but because I need so much to get back to the me who showed up yesterday, if that makes sense.
Very personal reaction there, I know.