Friday, August 26, 2016

Self Discovery

The theme of camp this year was undoubtedly self discovery.  I went for a kinky good time, spending quality time with my Master, and we had that, but what I came home with was so much more than that.  By being open to experiences and introspection, and going to some very thought provoking classes, I made several discoveries about myself.   

- Unlike when my Master asks me to do some very minor topping, such as tying him up and pleasuring him, if he bottoms for someone else it doesn't bother me at all. I'm happy for him. In fact, it is a huge weight off my mind when he promised never to make me do THAT.  I didn't get in writing what all THAT encompasses, but at the very least, I think it includes what she did with him.

- We went to a class on humiliation, degradation and objectification.  This was absolutely my favorite class, and great fun to participate in.   I already knew that Master and I are very much into this sort of play.  But in addition to the HUGE First Choice Cunt revelation here 
I had a smaller insight into the differences between myself and some others as to what sort of humiliation is pleasurable.  
One thing I don't respond well to in humiliation play is being castigated for actual failures or mistakes. This isn't hot or exciting or anything like that to me, it just makes me feel bad. I discovered that for some other people, this is a turn on. But not for me.
I hadn't really been able to articulate this difference before.   

- After I broke down and cried with the knife going across my stomach, I had later put some serious thought put into the "whys" of that reaction.  I enjoy knife play.  Sure, it is a little scary, but not panic inducing scary.  I knew he wasn't going to cut me.  We have done similar play in the past.  It didn't even hurt.   

What I realized was that not only is my stomach my emotional and physical weak point, the experiences I had with giving birth and other surgery in that area have further intensified that feeling.  I envision the knife sliding through my skin, spilling my guts, slicing me open.  This is all wrapped up in the birth of our second child, which was far more traumatic than it should have been.  I sat on a picnic table in camp Sunday morning, crying and spilling out my feelings to Master while he held me.  I realized that if I ever do need an Ordeal, this is what it would be about.   Right now I find the idea too frightening, but it definitely gave me something to think about.

And, for no real reason, here are a couple of pictures from the trip home. 

The Ferry

Lighthouse in Michigan



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