Balancing on the blade

The fine line between pleasure and pain does not seem to be one I frequently seek out or fantasize about.  I find it hard to strike the right balance and too often I feel scared, physically hurt, or just a lack of enjoyment.  I've been thinking about this recently because there are two such situations that I do delight in and both of them are in my recent past or near future.

The first is that on Friday I got another tattoo at my favorite tattoo parlor, Diving Swallow.  It is an all-female tattoo cooperative in Oakland, California.  It was be my fifth time getting tattooed.  While this experience is not directly related sex, I do find tattoos to be sexy and I think the pain gives me a sort of high.  That high may be related to me being thrilled by the end product but I think it also has something to do with the experience itself and the permanence of the act.  

Getting tattooed is a unique kind of pain.  The irritating pricking and dragging sensation just under the surface of the skin starts out feeling awful since the other times I have felt similar pain were the result of minor quick flesh wounds - getting scratched by a cat, caught against a rose bush or falling and scraping a hand or knee.  But tattooing can last for hours.  At some point a strange shift occurs.  My mind overrides its previous pain memories and I no longer feel like I am being injured, instead just a little achy.

The other pain/pleasure experience I relish is spankings.  The sensation of being paddled, whipped or slapped on my sufficiently padded bottom is great fun.  I enjoy the initial jolt of fire and the resulting heat that spreads throughout my body.  And when I can look back and see the visible pleasure on my spanker's face the experience is perfect. 

During The Importance of Being Earnest photo book I was supposed to be spanked by the character Ms. Prism.  I kept telling the woman to spank me harder in order for my facial expression to be authentic.  She was becoming less comfortable and not having fun with the degree of force I was requesting so I asked if she would mind a stunt spanker stepping in.  She said that was fine and my husband took over - giving me a right proper smack on the bottom with the required prop (a hairbrush).

Folsom Street Fair is the other public place I've been spanked.  No, I've never taken part in the spanking booths (where you donate to a cause in exchange for a lashing on the back or rear end) though I'm not opposed to it.  My spankings instead came from random people who had paddles, crops or an open palm and wanted to spank me upon seeing my different outfits (over the years) that usually showed off my booty.  Thankfully they always asked permission first.  Consent is an important part of what makes any intimate experience fun, especially one that flirts with the pain/pleasure line.  And as I gave the go ahead, I clued them into the amount of force I desired.  I also won a paddle and was given a little crop at Folsom, souvenirs of a fun-filled event. Both of these toys still make private appearances from time to time.