The Navigation of Numb Nation

Numb nation. It’s the name I’ve given my state of feeling numb that I would experience from time to time. The main symptom, is my being numb to almost all emotions, especially positive ones. It’s like my emotion center shuts down for a time period. I could smile or laugh and not feel a thing. Food tastes less good, sometimes I even lose my appetite completely. I could sleep a lot but not feel rested. I could tolerate more physical pain but feel less pleasure. I could get aroused but masturbation and climax felt like nothing. I would become forgetful, scatterbrain. Like I completely forgot to bring my wallet and keys when I went grocery shopping last Sunday. And I never forget my wallet and keys. Outwardly, I might seem pretty normal. I would go into auto-mode, and function from day to day, at work and with people, and go about the habits that I have built. But inwardly, no one’s home. It’s a scary state. I absolutely, utterly hate being in this state.

I used to avoid this state at all costs ever since I first experienced it when I was a teenager. I would swing from one extreme emotion to another, thinking that would spare me from the numb nation. Not until I read a book called “Maybe You Should Talk to Someone” that I learned that the ticket to the numb nation was bought with strong emotions. Turned out it was my brain’s protective mechanism, to shut down, whenever I feel something unusually strong. So what I did for many many years was just being going extremely highs and/or lows then followed by a period of numbness, talking about a vicious cycle. But after I learned that being zen was the key, avoiding strong, especially unnecessary emotions, it’s the best way to stay away from the numb nation. But alas, ’tis life and there are going to be feels, whether I want them or not.

The last time was in 2019. The trigger then was just a movie, a very good one. ‘Rocketman’, the Elton John biopic/musical. It completely wrecked me emotionally. I dove headfirst into the numb nation and didn’t resurface until about 45 days later. And here’s the thing, I usually don’t realize my state until I’m already coming out of it. I’ve always wondered since that if I could realize it sooner, whether I could get out of it with a strong dose of mindfulness and doing things that work.

And here I am. Six days into my forced staycation at the numb nation. It started on the 1st of April (what a great joke, oh dear universe), I had a fight with my gal friend. It was the type of fight I used to have with my partners, so to say it was triggering was an understatement. I don’t even understand why I needed to fight with her… One of the reasons I’m not interested in serious dating is that fighting like that ain’t worth it. And I’m not even dating her. Anyways, got sidetracked. But this time, I realized the state I’m in on the 5th day. I had all of the symptoms I mentioned above. I was very aware of how little I felt. I already know that the healthy habits I so painstakingly built over the past three years helped me stay afloat with my health even when I’m not capable to care for myself. I am a creature of habits.

Yesterday, Steve visited and it took me all of my will to stay present, to stay focused on the lovely pleasure and pain that gave me. I couldn’t feel as much as I usually do so effortlessly with him but being mindful helped. I noticed that I could take more pain from him in the form of spanking. It was the type of pain that I could hardly ignore so for a moment, it required no effort and it was glorious. I’m not commenting on whether it’s ‘healthy’ or not to use pain to treat the numbness, but I know I feel safe with pain, as odd as that sounds. But most of all, I feel safe with Steve and I know pain from spanking and BDSM wouldn’t trigger me emotionally, and that’s what I meant by feeling safe with pain.

I can’t say that I feel better today, well, maybe a little bit, in the sense of being aware of it. I decided to write this because writing always clears my head and helps me to deal with things. Becoming more mindful of my anxiety issues and numb nation might not ‘cure’ me of them but it does help me with dealing. And hopefully, by being aware and working hard for being present, and working hard to feel certain things, I just might get out of it sooner rather than later. Fake it till you make it, that’s my motto and when it comes to getting out of the numb nation, sometimes I have to fake some emotions in order to feel them for real again.

Parties and The Thrill of it All

I have issues. More than a few and some more prominent than others. I’ve mentioned before that I have problems with receiving and asking for affection, I am also very scared to submit again due to some serious abandonment issues and problems of letting go and just feel. I miss D/s like I miss oxygen underwater. I would like to reclaim my submissive self, I would like to be sure and confident again in that role and not be so goddamn… scared. But I actually have no idea how to do it. Oliver has been my little window of oxygen, with him it is easy for me to let go because he keeps things light and his sadist side lets me go into subspace through pain and occasionally fear. But it’s also his style of keeping things light that I hardly ever could get into subspace through mental submission. I need humiliation and mindfuckery. But most of all, I think I am the one who is stopping myself from submitting to anyone mentally. Because that is the ultimate surrender. I was so thrilled to discover my primal side because it satisfies a part of me that lets me be in control mentally all the time. But I’ve slowly come to accept the fact that I can’t be without D/s, nor primal. I need both.

Okay, maybe I should back up a bit. So it was Oliver’s second kinky house party last week and somehow it got even wilder than the first. At least from my own point of view. You see, I hardly ever play at the BDSM club and other ‘public’ kinky parties. I mostly assume the role of a sadist and I spank people. Occasionally I let others spank me but I always stop it way before my breaking point. I’m always fully in control. But somehow, at Oliver’s party, at his home, I felt safe. And maybe too safe. Cos I was way more reckless than usual. I played with people way more than I ever even planned to. The sadist with the vampire gloves Mr R was among the guests and I got to play with the gloves yet again. Because all of my clothing is very unsuitable with the gloves (mesh and such), I had to strip naked. I am never fully naked unless I’m at private sessions. I mean I don’t necessarily mind it all that much but it does make me feel vulnerable.

But the gloves weren’t the trigger, cos I didn’t break. During the evening, I was tied up, bit, flogged etc but then suddenly R was spanking me. I was slightly aware that Oliver gave him the okay as R continued straight from Oliver’s spanking, and I think that was the point that started to mess with my head. ‘Giving a sub away’ is an extremely dominant act, it both surprised me and turned me on. I don’t think Oliver was aware of his action making me feel more submissive than most things because it had the humiliation aspect too. Of course, I was fully aware that I could have stopped R if I wanted to, but I’ve received spankings from R before and he is very good at it. I did not anticipate how I would feel other than enjoying a good spanking.

R was not gentle. He knew exactly how much I can take and he went for it. It didn’t take long at all when I started to sob, and then an unfamiliar feeling took hold of me, a feeling I’ve only dread in my head – I panicked. Not the type that came with the vampire gloves, not the fight or flight type. This was something deeper in my head. I started to panic because I was breaking, and it wasn’t just because of the pain. I was losing the battle in preventing myself from mentally submitting and I panicked. Because of all of the issues I mentioned above. I trust R fully, I respect him as a sadist and a dominant very much and I know he would never do anything to hurt me that I didn’t consent to. But he doesn’t know all of my issues, he doesn’t know what it takes me to let someone close enough to help me come back from subspace. And the only reason I didn’t have a full-on panic attack right there and then is because I know Oliver was there. And I kinda relied on him giving all of the aftercare that I would need afterward. And that’s really not fair to Oliver or Mr R, that I kept all of that storm raging inside.

In my defense, it took me days to figure out why I panicked. And the more intense the session/submission, the longer it would take me to untangle my thoughts and I’m still kinda waiting for that sub-drop to hit me, now four days later. But it hadn’t yet. Or I’m not sure, I’ve been keeping myself busy. But I am aware that I need to discuss this with Oliver. And also address this problem with myself. I wish I can submit as easily as I did at the beginning of my journey, how fearless I was. And I refuse to have that fearlessness taken away from me. I am going to get it back. I want to be able to let go. I want to be able to submit to anyone I choose to. I’ve always viewed submission as the ultimate control. Only when you have full control of yourself is when you can give up that control to someone else. Have I actually lost control while I fight so hard to keep it?

Is That a Thing? – Vampire Gloves

I encountered a pair of vampire gloves a while ago at a party. One of the biggest sadists in the scene got them and showed them off at a kinky party. Let’s just call him R for the sake of this post. They look like a pair of innocent black leather gloves, but upon closer inspection, the palm side every finger is covered with sharp small metal spikes. My blood ran cold just from the sight of them.

Here’s the thing, I’ve always hated spiky or sharp things. Remember my post about the Wartenberg wheel three years ago? I don’t like needles, I don’t like spiky sharp metal things. But for some reason, I was very curious about the gloves even though I haaaated it upon the first little taste R put on my forearm. I didn’t like it at all, not one bit. The spikes were sharp enough that it would have broken my skin easy if only R would have put a bit more pressure. I’m pretty convinced that the little devil on my should possessed me in that moment, because I actually asked him to try them on me a bit more thoroughly. So he did. Standing behind me with those bloody gloves, he grabbed my shoulders, arms, back, chest, the back of my neck and my scalp. I screamed like a fucking banshee. I’ve never screamed so loud from anything, not even caning. Especially on my scalp, they made my whole body tingle and hum, and I was terrified. Afterward, they left behind this strong relentless sensation like I’ve been stung by a thousand bees. And it wouldn’t go away no matter how much I rubbed my skin with my hands. It only went away after a hard merciless spanking and flogging. Those gloves hurt sooo much, but it didn’t break the skin. That time…

I didn’t like the sensation and pain the gloves created. Not one bit. Not at all. But for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I craved them like I’ve never craved any other torture devices. I craved them like I sometimes craved a proper back flogging. So finally last week’s party, I asked nicely for R to bring them to the party and he obliged. I asked for proper treatment from it. Should have known you can never quite get exactly what you want from a sadist. I thought I would just get the same kind of treatment as last time. But then R told me to strip almost naked, with just my panties, stay-ups, and bra. And then he told me to go lie down one of the mattresses in the party venue. The moment I hit the mattress, I knew I was fucked.

I didn’t expect to take on the gloves lying down, defenseless. At least when I’m standing up, I didn’t feel quite as trapped compared to lying on the mattress with a giant mean sadist hovering over me basically with a hundred spikes pointing at me. He then proceeded to grab, grope, drag, hold and press all over me – my arms, my waist, my stomach, my thighs, my back, my neck, my breast, my nipples (!) and even my freaking face! And he did it so rapidly that I could only scream from pain. I was quite sure I couldn’t even breath. My whole body was tensed since I did all I could to hold myself in place since struggling and moving would hurt even more but all I wanted to do was escape. But I couldn’t. It created the most potent panic that I’ve ever experienced. It wasn’t just pain and fear, it was purely fight or flight reflex, my body going into high alert. R also rolled me around grabbing from my waist and I went into a fucking frenzy. My mind shut down, the masochist came out to play. When he pulled my legs open and grabbed hard on my inner thighs, I unraveled. When he pinned me down and put those gloves on my palms and pressed down, I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed. It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced, worse than canes breaking my skin. It’s the unbearable kind of pain.

In the end of it, I was sweating like I just did a 1000 calorie workout, I was breathing hard, every piece of muscles in my body ached and that stinging sensation was on everywhere. I was disoriented and slightly light-headed. I wanted ice-cream. XD But I was also… euphoric. It felt like I just survived some life and death situation and came out in one piece (more or less). It was adrenaline pumping full force in my veins. I felt amazing. I felt more alive than ever and it was crazy. And because I am an adrenaline junkie and a masochist, the whole experience left me aroused as fuck. Which is quite rare for me because I usually get aroused from the person and not the act and I’m not attracted to R in the traditional sense. Although his sadist energy got me a little confused. Or the masochist in me. 😀 I was left wondering what it would be like to get the glove treatment from Oliver… *shiver*

Later at the party, people who had knew me for a while now and seen me playing at parties, they told me that they had never heard me scream like that. And I couldn’t exactly argue, I don’t think I’ve ever screamed like that before. I’m still terrified of them. It’s the combination of pain that I hate, strong fear and the panic that the gloves roused in me that got me to worship them in a way I hardly worship any particular tool before. And the next time, the holes started to appear. It didn’t look like that the gloves made any big marks on the same day but on the next time, holes started to appear on my ribs, thighs, arms, butt and tummy. And I kinda adore them. I hope you enjoy this little story, I should get around to write some other naughty things next week. Until then, stay kinky! 😉

Confessions of a Spanko, part 15 – Bastinado

“Bastinado aka foot whipping is a method of corporal punishment which consists of hitting the soles of a person’s bare feet. Unlike most types of flogging, this punishment was meant to be more painful than it was to cause actual injury to the victim. Blows were generally delivered with a light rod, knotted cord, or lash.”

I’ve always been aware of bastinado but surprisingly, I’ve had very little experiences of it overall. I guess I just haven’t happened to play with people who had any interest in it. Or in anything to do with feet in general and I’m more than fine by that. I guess it’s almost cliche foot fetish is, but I kinda have the opposite reaction to it. I am extremely ticklish all over, but especially on my feet. One of my ex-Dom used to just hold my ankle and threaten to lick my toes and I would be freaking out, hyperventilating from laughter and he hadn’t even touched them. In short, I don’t like my feet being touched.

I’m not sure how the first time happened with Oliver. I mean, bastinado was never even on my soft limit list. It hurts a lot and I’m deadly scared of it, but just like pussy whipping, I can take it albeit not that gracefully. But it seemed to have become a thing after Oliver discovered how much I panic and struggle whenever he decides to grab my ankle, hold it in place firmly and whip the soles of my feet hard. And then when I decided to do this no shopping for a year thing and recruited him to keep me in check, I chose bastinado as the form of punishment whenever I buy crap, one hit per one euro. And this week’s session, I had somehow managed to rack up 101 hits…

Is That a Thing? – Biting

Biting has always had a special place in my heart, it’s kinda one of the ways I like to use to express affection. If I like you, I wanna bite you. I’m pretty sure there is a word for it. My biting tendencies were pretty oppressed when I used to play with doms, they mainly saw it as me acting out and being bratty or wanting attention. And they never let me bite as hard as I wanted to. And they also didn’t bite me that much. But despite all the limitations, biting is definitely one of my fetishes that I didn’t get to practice that much, not until my primal side became more prominent.

I’m not saying that biting is strictly a primal thing, it is just in my experiences primals just like to do it more. In fact, we like anything that brings us closer and when it comes to pain, we prefer relying on the damage that we can inflict with our own bodies – teeth, nails, hands, legs, arms, whole body. Of course, being a spanko too myself, I love all kinds of instruments of pain also, but the primal side comes out when I get to get close and personal.

The first time I got a real taste of it was with Elio. I really encouraged him to bite my shoulder as he orgasmed, and he warned me that it was going to hurt a lot. And he was right. I happened to be wearing a shirt at that time when he did exactly what I asked for. He bit my shoulder so hard that I’m 100% positive that it would have broken the skin if I hadn’t had a shirt on. The giant and deep bitemark stayed on for months and I freaking loved it. After that time, it really opened up my now insatiable appetite for being bitten hard, and also getting to bite hard (but maybe more about being a bit).

And I guess biting was part of our play with Oliver almost from the beginning, it started slowly. There were fewer bites and a bit gentler. Until it increased in volume and definitely in ferocity. Most of the time he even does it when we hug goodbye, and it’s kinda our version of a kiss on the cheek – something extra in addition to the hug. I do get to bite him pretty hard too and I enjoy it almost as much. I’m pretty sure when I get to top him next time, it would definitely include a lot of biting.

I can say that biting feels a bit different with Oliver, because it almost always includes me being either tied up by ropes, or him physically limiting my movements aka he holds me in place when he does the biting. And it adds a thick layer of fear and panic into the mix. I feel like a trapped animal. And it somehow makes it hurt a lot more than it should. And it also arouses me a lot more than I’ve anticipated before. Like one of his favorite way to bite me is when he had tied my hands behind my back and I’m bent over either a bed or a table. He would be adjusting the ropes behind me, leaning very close, sometimes so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. And there would be this one second of complete silence during which my panic level would rise through the roof cos I knew what was coming. He would strike like a fucking cobra, and the place on my body where I just felt his hot breath would be replaced by sharp teeth biting down on my flesh without mercy and I would try to squirm away and be powerless to stop the screams coming out of my mouth. And it’s not just my shoulders that he likes biting, shoulders could take quite a lot of pain. He really likes to bite my back, spots almost to the side that are extra sensitive and those spots would almost always bruise up.

Personally, my favorite spot to be bitten is the inner thigh. They bruise super easy, and the pain level there is in another level compared to any other body part (maybe except nipples). It feels like my inner thighs are being cut open with a sharp knife, the warm saliva almost feels like blood running down my thighs, it’s a perfect mindfuck if you have a blindfold on. Inner thigh bruises stay on for months. During summer for someone like me who loves wearing short skirts, thigh bruises are a lovely decoration prettier than any jewelry. 😉 I love the shape of bitemark bruises too, so round and big.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this little post about one of my favorite fetishes that I finally get to practice in full. I might stay on the topic of primal next week, or go for a spanko post, we shall see which mood I’m in next week. Until then, stay kinky! 😉