It ties into my desire for control. It’s a small leash, in a way — my pet is bound by my hand. She’s under my control for the duration of our play session. And unless things get too much, she’ll handle the mix of pain and pleasure like the good girl she is.
There’s fascinating imagery there to think about. How she might be a slave to my touch and my desires, trapped in a mental prison. The psychology behind this, why she likes it, why I yearn for it, is utterly fascinating. How can you be a slave to the pleasure but handle the pain? It should be one org he other and yet, there’s beautiful harmony between the two. We’re stronger than we think we are, make no mistake. And pushing the boundaries with her is one of the best things about our D/s side to our relationship.
So there’s this sense of duality there that satisfies me. On one hand, you have the brutality and the darkness. When I tug, she gasps and moans. For me, it’s exhilarating to be in the position where I can control the amount of pleasure and pain. It does things to me, physically and psychologically. I love seeing her at my mercy. I cannot begin to describe how writing this effects me. How just writing these words makes me want to use them on her the minute she walks through the door.
On the other hand, there’s trust there. She trusts me to take care of her, to guide her through this roller coaster of pain and pleasure. And that’s beautiful. That’s another side of this coin that appeals to my sensitive nature.