It seems The Man felt I needed a little reminder last night, a reminder of who is in charge, a reminder that pain isn't really foreplay as I mentioned in my last post. Pain, as He so clearly demonstrated, is His. He gives it, I take it, whether I like it or not.
As we lay in bed, He moved close to me. I knew we were going to have sex-we had already talked about it. He reached for me, caressed my breasts, then found a nipple. He squeezed, no, He CRUSHED it between His thumb and index finger, and my pain level went from 0 to 100 in about half a second. I stifled a cry. Instinctively, my hands flew up to my breasts. That's a no-no, but I wasn't thinking clearly. IT HURT.
He moved to the other breast and did the same thing. I was aware of the pain, and aware of my hands fluttering around at my sides like butterflies. He brought His head close to mine and growled softly into my ear, "We don't want people thinking I'm soft on you, do we?"
I managed to get the word "No" to come out, but that wasn't enough. He leaned even closer and said, "No?" Apparently I needed to finish the sentence. "No, Master," I whispered, and then He let go.
There was more pain after that, followed by good sex. But His point was made, His ownership reinforced. He doesn't hurt me because I like it; He hurts me because He likes it.