Romanticising Suffering

Todays Psych session was oddly relevant today, to my BDSM stuff.

We were talking about my Daddy's breakup, and while I thought I'd have some serious conflicts about it, it turns out that my emotions are actually nice and straightforward - I'm sad that my Daddy is sad, and I'm sad that I likely won't be seeing a person I liked very often from this point. But that's about it, really - I have no real conflicts about the whole kibosh.

But it brought up a more interesting question - why I thought there would be more complex emotions involved. He pointed out to me an odd phenomenon which comes up a lot in my mind - the fact that I almost strive for suffering, like it's a good thing.

Now, don't get me wrong - to suffer at the hands of your dominant is not necessarily a bad thing. But I have this view in my head that I must suffer - that I always take the hard road, always do things by the least efficient method, that I don't feel I've accomplished anything if I didn't suffer through it. Really, I've put this romantic spin on suffering, and I think part of that is that the suffering that I've been through in life has lead me to the person I am now, with all it's kindness, compassion, and willingness to listen.

But the fact is, I don't need suffering to learn things. I don't need to suffer through everyday life to learn things in life, I can just, you know, learn stuff by looking around. There's no need to complicate things by pushing myself to inflict pain and woe upon me just because it builds character.

Cock Hate

I'll admit, the title of this post is probably a little misleading, but for once I wanted a title with a bit of impact!

For quite some time now, I've had a very strong desire to get my cock circumcised. I've had these desires for a while, at least a couple of years, but a few days ago me and Daddy had a full-on discussion about it. He does not share my desire for circumcision, and was desperate to figure out why I wanted to do this. I had to be honest with him - a lot of it was simply gut feeling, that I wanted to do it and that "it would look better".

Daddy was entirely dissatisfied with that, and decided to keep pushing - was I willing to deal with the repercussions? Of the pain and breaking of stitches, of the reduction in sensitivity, etc etc. Was this really something I was willing to do just for something cosmetic? Of course, even with these perfectly good points, I've been wanting this for years, and I wasn't going to just give up there. But Daddy kept at me. "I'm not sure that you've entirely thought this through. You've never been entirely at peace with your body, especially your cock, in fact you've occasionally had quite violent thoughts against it. Is this you just bring out your general self-hatred on your body?"

I had to admit, I didn't have a good response to this. It's been a long time since I've actually confronted that part of my psyche. I've been focusing so much on the positive aspects of my life, on being happy with the direction my life is taking, that I've been completely neglecting the other side of the equation. Whether I'm happy with myself.

And I'm not, really. I'm a horribly insecure person, who believes, quite honestly, that I'm a terrible, horrible person, who spends most of his social effort putting out such a wonderful image of myself that no one could possibly see the horrible person I believe myself to be. So much of my mental time is spent papering over that particular truth.

And, now that I think about it, I think Daddy might well be right. I've never had the healthiest relationship with my cock, or my genitals in general. During the first stages of our relationship, I cursed them for not doing what I wanted them to do. During one particular night when I was performing at a sex party, I even said that I was so angry that I wanted to rip it off. And I think about a lot of fetishes that I'm interested in, like CBT, and chastity, and how so many of my mental fantasies seem to involve modifying my cock or causing pain to my cock, and yeah, it kinda all falls into place, really - I really do hate my cock, a lot, but I think that's just me forcing a lot of my general self-hatred into what seems to be a safe target.

So, after a whole lot more pain and talking, Daddy told me in no uncertain terms that he wants me to actually tackle this whole self-hatred thing. If, after working on loving myself more, and feeling safer and more secure in my body, I still want to get myself circumcised, then he'll support me 100%. But, simply, he doesn't want me doing something I'll regret later, and I can't disagree with that.

But it's brought up a lot of other stuff. Is so much of my kinks really an aspect of this self-hatred, and is that really healthy for me? Daddy seems to think that it's probably a safe way of dealing with it, but I dunno. Maybe I need to change the way I work with those kinks, perhaps? I honestly don't know where to go with this information from here. How do you know what's healthy and what isn't? I mean, I'm not sure I trust introspection for this sort of stuff, since clearly my thought processes are a bit warped at this point. I'm not sure I can come to a healthy conclusion about this.

I guess, really, I should see a psychologist about this, but I'm not sure if there's a psychologist that could deal with this in a friendly-enough manner. How, exactly, do you tell a psychologist that you're actively engaging in causing pain to your genitals because you hate yourself, and that you want to explore that self-hatred, without the psych getting entirely the wrong impression? Even for a kink-friendly psychologist that'd have to be a bit of a stretch.

Or maybe I'm just projecting my own fear there. Trying to worm my way out of getting help. It's a common trait of mine. If I had any idea how to help myself from here it wouldn't be such a problem, but I'll be honest - I don't think I can help myself from here, I think I need an external voice, and this is not something Daddy can really help me with, or really should be his responsibility to help with.

Argh. I feel like I'm travelling around in circles at this point so I think I'll just stop the post there.

Fun at the Farm!

This week I've been on leave from my work, and so me and Daddy decided to take a trip to reconnect with each other, as we'd noted that real life had pushed a lot of the BDSM from our lives in the past few months. We'd known about a lovely Bed & Breakfast in Taradale called Macushla Farm, and decided to spend a couple of days there.

First off - Macushla Farm is such a beautiful property. Right out in the bush, with trees and nature everywhere, it was the perfect place to relax and recharge. The Cabin we stayed in was absolutely stunning and beautiful.

But the best part of the entire trip? The Dungeon, and playing with my Daddy. The Dungeon at Macushla Farm is one of the best dungeons I've seen, with so much fantastic furniture. I swear, me and Daddy were like kids in a candy store - We could barely decide what to start with first! Some highlights of the play:

The Naughty Chair: I think I may have found my new favourite pain infliction device. It's simple enough - it's a stool with bottle caps glued to the seat, with the sharp bits pointed up. The thing that makes it fantastic is not the pain when you sit down - it's actually quite bearable, you could sit in it for quite some time and not have to tap out. No, it's the getting up that's the... "fun" part. Especially if your tormentor has decided to inflict some extra pain while you're in the seat by sitting on your lap. Because as you're getting up, the bottle caps cause much more pain on the getting up. The first time we used it I ended up with a lovely bruised pattern on my butt. I may, possibly, be looking for appropriate stools in Op Shops to convert into naughty chairs in the future, since they look incredibly simple to make.

Playing with CBT: I've always been a sucker for CBT, and with a lovely gynaecologist's chair, we had the perfect setting. I really do like CBT a lot, and since me and Daddy have been approached to do some play for an exhibit later this year, we figured we'd get some practice in. We mostly just played around with pegs and weights, but in and of itself was a lot of fun!

Torturing and Lowering Myself: On the second day, I convinced Daddy to take a slightly different approach - he'd order me to do stuff to myself. Honestly, I found that to be one of the more fun parts of the trip, for reasons I'm still digesting on. I suspect this weekend's post is going to be about self-inflicted pain, because thinking about it has brought a whole lot of stuff to the fore.

As part of that particular play session, Daddy also decided to use some spreader bars on me, and make me waddle around the room on my hands and knees. He also got me to clean up the pile of pegs I had inflicted on myself with my teeth, having to waddle around the room to move the pile from the floor to their container. I've often said that I'm not that big a fan of humiliation play, but I think that's wrong - I do like being humiliated when I'm in that subby space.

So, all in all, a wonderful, brilliant trip. I certainly hope we get a chance to go back again, if only so we can get to use the Dungeon again! But also I feel a whole lot closer to my Daddy now that we've spent that couple of days bonding on a BDSM level. I can't wait until we move in together in our own house, because I've missed that opportunity you have in a safe space to play, and I like random play! :)