Oh baby oh baby. Earlier today I got my ass beat. Quite a bit. Quite well. Now I’m feeling all mellow and happy and giggly and very very horny. I consider this a nice change.

I don’t handle stress very well. It is a major problem I have. When I get more and more upset I turn it inward and I start beating myself up about things. Even when the stress is entirely external and has nothing to do with me. Noah pointed out that part of my downward cycles involves me feeling like I am inadequate in some way. I guess I never realized how much that figures in. This particular downward cycle started with Noah’s accident. I got very anxious when it happened, and even after the crisis was over I didn’t manage to come down. Then I found out I was flunking Spanish. I have never flunked a class before and I really came down hard on myself even though I wouldn’t change how I reacted to the situation. Even though I was doing something that I felt was right for me and for the situation… I still failed. So I beat myself up about it. Then kind of snowballing being at Noah’s all the time and falling behind on things that needed to get done at home (I feel like I’m failing if I’m not perfect at everything at all times). Then the break-up. Then a series of well-meaning rather vanilla sexual encounters…

Frustration. Lots of frustration. Vanilla sex is nice and all, but I usually finish up feeling like I didn’t quite… get… something. I can’t put my foot on it. It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy it. It isn’t that I didn’t have orgasms. I just somehow feel like a piece is missing. So here I have a month straight of massive anxiety without relief. Last night I hit a bad place. My lower back, where I store a large majority of my stress, completely decided it has had enough. Spasms. Agony. Crying in a fetal position. I really hate it when my back decides to do that. My stomach has hurt for the past week to the degree that I would like to get punched really hard in the stomach just as a distraction. I’m eating sugar like crazy despite the fact that I don’t generally care for sugar much because it feels like the only thing that helps handle the horrible stomach ache. Noah tried working on my back, but he is considerably limited right now. He did help some. Taking a vicodin and going to bed helped some. Getting fucked hard in the middle of the night helped. However, what helped the most was talking to a really great sadist and asking him if he would be willing to hurt me. He was! He had time available! Wow. A date for a beating within 24 hours. That rocks pretty hard. Previous history has taught me that getting the crap beat out of me will help neutralize a lot of my anxiety.

So I went over this afternoon (in between doing way too many other things. I need a break.) and he paddled me and caned me for a while. Not that severe of a beating, it is the first time we have played together… but certainly enough. I’m feeling much more relaxed and I’m in a better mood. Not all of my anxiety is gone, but I’m ok with where I am right now. I’m no longer feeling panicky and anxious and like I’m going to break into a million pieces. I don’t want to cut right now. That is a big deal. I have been wanting to cut pretty much constantly for the last month. I don’t think I have had 5 minutes go by in which I haven’t thought about cutting. I don’t want to right now. Right now I want a serious massage and a glass of wine. Ok, and a lot more fucking. Really hard fucking. I want some D/s energy. (There was no D/s involved in this beating, lamentably, and I was sad at the absence.) That would make my day complete. But it isn’t going to happen. I’ll see what I can do about soliciting back rubs tonight though. It is the best I can do right now, and really nothing to complain about.

I am so glad I know the people I know.

Did I mention I had a really really intense orgasm while he was caning me? Oh dear god. I come a lot. I come easily. But yeah… orgasms caused by pain… they are just better.