I’m a Sadist. No, I don’t punch random people and watch them fall over. I don’t torture animals and I have no interest in hurting someone that doesn’t want to be hurt. But make no mistake, I’m a fucking Sadist. Bruises and welts turn me on quicker than tits and ass. Hearing a submissive moan during impact play is a lot more gratifying than hearing her moan from fucking. I’m a Sadist and I’m not ashamed of that, yet I’m not sure why I am what I am.
I open doors for women. I’ve never hit a woman outside of consensual play. Seeing someone I’m close with in emotional pain will cause me to get very emotional myself. I like to build someone up, through sweet words of encouragement and loving actions that don’t just say I care, but shows her I do. I do all of that and there is still a hunger within to hurt her.
Now, I’ll always talk ad nauseum about what I would like to do before doing anything when it comes to impact play. But once terms have been negotiated and we are in the space where we can take our skin off and let the hunger within be fed and my wild animalistic behavior roars out of me, I’m home, in love with the barbaric freedom to inflict pain, pleasure and purpose upon my partners bare skin. To see the marks rise, makes my hunger rise and even though I’m feeding it, it’s insatiable and can never truly be fed. I’ll always crave more.
Why do I need to hurt, well I don’t actually. It’s a want, a hunger, a beast within that could be repressed, but the reason why I hurt really, is because I can. Because when I meet someone that adores that beast, that wants to tease the animal in me so the scratches are that much more intense. Well, that’s the answer, I want to hurt to be loved, to be needed and accepted. I don’t want to be loved partially, I want to be loved completely.
It’s a part of me like any other part. I don’t know where the part came from or what it means on a psychological level, I just know it’s there and the reason I want to hurt, is because it’s a hunger within that yearns to be let out.
There is no greater feeling than when someone cares for me enough to allow that hunger to be fed and wear my marks that I give like they are the sweetest testament to our bond.