Beast

A good number of years ago, a conversational whirlwind overtook our corner of the blogging universe.  In those days, it seemed to me that every submissive and every slave was all atwitter over the idea of "unleashing the beast" from within their Dominant partner.  It was as if everywhere women were awash in lurid fantasies that revolved around being taken and used by their partners acting out of the deepest dark reaches of their psyches. 

I remember being exceptionally uneasy with that line of chatter.  I remember sounding a cautionary note; warning against playing casually  in that realm; fearing that there were a number of my compatriots who were allowing their fantasies to blur their judgement in ways that were potentially harmful.  It was, perhaps, one of my earliest appearnces on the blogging stage in the role of crotchety old lady.

I have never deliberately or consciously sought to evoke the "inner beast" in Master.  I am fully aware of the depth of His sadistic urges, and I am certain that He can bring a willingness and ability to inflict pain that far exceeds my capacity to encompass that pain.  I have always believed that what keeps me safe in playing sadomasochistically with Him, is the simple fact that He keeps His sadistic inclinations under pretty tight rein.  Under normal circumstances, He plays with great personal awareness and attention and restraint.  He could go to much more intense extremes in His play.  Most of the time, He chooses to not do that.  He maintains boundaries for Himself, and, in doing so, for me.

Now, however, the beast has been aroused and unleashed.  I did not do it.  Another person worked the incantation that brought the beast roaring out of the dark depths.  Another person teased and tantalized and taunted -- stirring up the primordial urges.  The conversation did not include me.  The negotiation was not something with which I was involved. 

And then, I came crashing into the middle of the heat of all that.  All that fine talk about being stoic, about not caring, about recognizing what was mine and what was not turned out to be just so much whistling past the graveyard.  It turned out that I was not so stoic after all.  It turned out I did care -- could not find any way to really not care.  It turned out that I "lack compersion."  I stomped into the midst of the negotiation and laid my very unslavish "No" out on the table.  My pain was intense enough, and my level of craziness over it all was extreme enough that He relented and turned away from the outsider -- but the beast is on the rampage and will not be soothed into docility again.

I will meet the beast, and soon.  That is the clear and absolute price that must be paid for His concessions to my weaknesses and failings.  He has moved decisively to do the things that I need Him to do in order to feel more secure and less threatened, hurt, and humiliated.  In return, He has been adamant that I WILL meet His needs for intense sadistic play.  I don't know when.  I do know what.  I've been told.  It is pain that will far exceed my ability to endure it, and I know I will have no choice. 

I am afraid.  Part of me believes that He will protect me somehow, but I am also convinced that short of some life-threatening crisis, He will simply hurt me, working out His anger and frustration on my powerless body; evening the score for the temerity of my "No."  I cannot see to the other side of that.  Perhaps, making that crossing will turn out to be a good thing...

swan