In last week’s That’s My Kink I covered masochism and it was very much about the personal journey I’ve taken with it. While masochism was one of the first kinks I played with, sadism came along a little later even though I had known for a long time that it was something I wanted to be dishing out.
When it comes to masochism there are plenty of descriptions of what happens inside the body to make a masochist receive pleasure from pain. When you look for similar information on sadism you are mostly confronted with article about the difference between sadists and psychopaths and what part of the mind sadism stems from.
I can only speak for myself, and I want to make it very clear that I am doing just that, but in my experience, while I do get a physical reaction to dishing out pain it absolutely is a kink that starts in the mind. It isn’t necessarily about physical arousal. It’s linked more with The Thrill of Power and the kick I get from doing something bad, which I covered a little in Face Slapping … Again.
I think I knew for a very long time that I had a sadistic streak. It was the part of me that wanted to be a Top and it simultaneously was the thing that made me keep my desire to be a Top secret for a long while. I wasn’t embarrassed that I had those desires. I’d met and seen sadists at play, I knew once I was in the kink community that it was an acceptable interest to have. What I didn’t know was if I could exercise caution.
I lived with my inner sadist tapping at my insides for attention for the longest time before I allowed myself to yield to a long-held desire. I waited until the person I wanted to hurt, was the person I wanted to pleasure. It was only then that I began to loosen my grip on my sadistic self; because I knew there was no chance of me ever wanting to cause them harm. Sexy pain? Yes. But harm? Never.
Masochism is a soft and blurry haze of a sensation. Sadism, in contrast, is a pure shot of adrenalin.
When I think about or write about why I identify as having a sadistic streak, I think, but perhaps do not write many, many things that I think sound absolutely inappropriate. I see how my thoughts would be alarming to those outside of the kink community, hell even those inside the community who have no experience of what I’m discussing. Even now, when I’m writing a post about sadism, I am choosing my words carefully.
My line of thinking is that the fact I care about whether or not I am getting sadism right and the fact it matters to me that I’m not some sort of monster hopefully means that I am in fact on the ‘right side’ of sadistic. I’ve never felt the urge to cause someone pain who hasn’t explicitly asked for it, and I do not for one minute enjoy the pain and suffering of those who have not consented to it, and if it isn’t in an erotic context.
When someone does consent though, well that’s a whole different ball game. When it is erotic and when the request has been issued, and their body responds beautifully to a tentative bite or a sensual scratch, and they plead for more, I am more than happy to provide. In a scenario like this, I will be gleeful in my sadism. There will be smiles and laughter and I will have joy in my heart as I make the masochistic beneath my palms whimper and moan as their pain becomes their pleasure.
When someone consents to engage in any kink with me, where I am the Top, I am always so honoured that they trust me with their body and their mind while we play. When someone wants me to indulge their inner masochists that trust feels even more potent and it too is part of what turns me on.
Whether it occurs in an ongoing dynamic or in a casual exchange their is a wonderful intimacy to be found in an exchange between a Sadist and a masochist. As a Sadist, I feel that so much more and I am always enthralled by any masochist that I am lucky enough to play with.
While it absolutely is about inflicting pain, it’s also about so much more than that. It’s about their wanting and their reactions. It’s knowing they have an itch they can’t scratch by themselves, and they have, at that moment, chosen you to relieve that itch, often with sharp and devilish devices.
When it comes to the ways I enjoy delivering pain, they are many and varied. I do, however, have a soft spot for biting, bare handed spanking and needles. Biting is probably my all-time favourite way inflict pain, it’s primal, easy to access and involves sinking my teeth into sumptuous body parts; what’s not to love. I have oodles of impact devices I can devices that I can deliver a range of sensations with but even when I have them available I quite often end up using my hand anyway. I love the feel of a bottom beneath my hand and perhaps it is the masochist in me that enjoys the tingle that eventually settles in my palms after prolonged spanking. As for needles, well, they play into many of my kinks; sadism, power, blood play and sometimes, one I’ve yet to cover fear play.
Provided I have the knowledge and the confidence to play with something safely though there are many ways I am happy to help someone feed their masochistic desires. However, as much as love being able to someones go to sadist even if only for a little while, I have many, many reasons I might politely decline such an opportunity. If either myself, or the bottom in question is not fully aware of the risks involved, to mind not entirely aware of what it is they may be consenting to then I’d rather disappoint them than risk getting into something one, or both of us may later regret.
This approach means I haven’t rushed down my sadistic path. I still have things I’d like to learn and I have skills I’d like to hone. Whereas once I might have tried to silence the part of me that is keen to discover where this journey might lead, I’m now quite content to nurture my inner sadist because I know that deep down she’s actually quite sweet and the joy I feel when she’s let out to play really is rather exhilarating.