safeword

She is hitting me beyond what I can take, pinning my leg under her. If I could stop myself from trying to hide my pathetic thighs from her I would. I am screaming and screaming and flailing. She keeps caning me.

She tells me to stay still and I sob: I can't, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please, I'm sorry, I can't. I wish I was a good girl who could stay still, who could be limited only to the swear words and cries of anguish pouring out of my mouth. I warned her that I would not be able to keep still, or stop myself from trying to turn away from her. I won't be punished for it. At no point does my body rouse me to resist, only to ineffectually cower and hide.

I know that trying to fight would lead to punishment. I do not want to invite consequences that I cannot bear.

Some of my friends dissociate when they do things like this. I don't. Something is keeping me viciously tethered to the moment. It's the safeword, which I'm only to use if one of my joints might be wrenching out of its socket, or if my blood sugar is crashing.

What I want doesn't matter between me and her, but what I need to be able to do does. Some outcomes are not on the table. And even knowing me as she does, with her best judgement, my body is simply unpredictable. So we always keep a safeword. A quick way for me to let her know that something is about to happen that neither of us want. But it's not to be used to stop the pain. I do not get to decide when it stops.

The vigilance to not press the stop button keeps my brain sharply present. My eyes are forced wide to stare at my own torture, my vocal chords are blown out. There is a wall I have to keep building in my mind.

Saying it would make it stop. I am not allowed to make it stop. It would make it stop. I am not allowed. I am not allowed. I am not allowed.

When she's done, I'm going to cry in her arms because I feel like I couldn't take enough for this to be satisfying. We have been at this for about an hour and a half, and I will have plenty of bruises to show for it. And she will always tell me: how much you can take isn't the point. You suffered so much. It was beautiful.