I’m a pain slut with a low pain tolerance

A black and red leather flogger lies on a pink background. Photo.
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If you asked me to describe my relationship with impact play, I’d tell you that I’m a pain slut with a low pain tolerance. I like getting spanked, but I can’t take as much pain as I’d like to take. The idea of pain is sometimes hotter to me than the pain itself, and I frequently feel like a fraud when I tell people that spanking is one of my biggest kinks. I do love being spanked, but I often have safe-word out sooner than I feel I ‘should’.

Content note for impact play and unhealthy thoughts about my worth as a submissive. 

I am no less submissive because I can’t take much pain; I’m no less a pain slut because I can’t take much pain. However, it’s sometimes hard to convince myself of that.  Strap-in, folks, because there’s a lot to unpack here. And no, not just a case full of stingy impact toys that will make me wet and make me whimper when a dominant threatens me with them.

I was called a pain slut during my first threesome – a highlight that stands out because I wasn’t expecting it. I still carry those words, bestowed on me by two far more experienced kinksters, with pride. I had taken enough pain to be worthy of that title and it felt good. I didn’t feel weak, which is something I do feel when I have to safeword out of a spanking.

Since then I’ve described myself as a pain slut, albeit not always seriously. While I think it accurately describes how hungry I am for pain, I always add the caveat that I’m often more into the idea of pain than the actual pain. I crave to be hurt by a sadistic dominant, but I don’t always love how it feels when they’re hurting me.

Sometimes my body surprises me. I distinctly remember a moment during my first attempt at casual sex where I was straddling my play partner and they were spanking me while we kissed. I was terrified, in that moment, that it would hurt and I would have to ask them to stop. At the time – when I was fucking up with communication – that would have been incredibly embarrassing, but I didn’t have to.

I was delighted to feel the pain, yes, but also my cunt getting wet because it liked the pain.

That wasn’t a particularly hard spanking. The caning a then-fuck buddy gave me on one of our first sex dates – as a punishment for something I’d done deliberately to get myself in trouble – was hard. Or at least, even he admitted that the cane had quite a bite to it. It hurt like hell, and somehow in trying to impress him and hold myself together I forgot that it was supposed to be fun.

Sure, there are scenes where it’s hot to endure, to take a beating because it will make my dominant hard, but as good as kneeling on all fours in front of him felt, vulnerable and counting strokes, it wasn’t enough. I felt that if I couldn’t take as much pain as he wanted to dish out – this tall, well-spoken sadist – he wouldn’t want to play with me anymore. When I said red I was crying, but at least I had got slightly better at communication by this point.

He told me that I shouldn’t feel weak for not taking more pain. Beating myself up for not being a ‘better’ submissive by whatever metric I was judging myself on was – he assured me – not sexy. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t take as hard or as long a caning as I wanted to, I was taking as much as I could and that was incredibly hot to him. There’s not a value tied to my pain tolerance and it doesn’t make me less of a kinky slut.

I took a big, shaky breath – crying in front of more casual play partners makes me feel super insecure – and tried to believe him.

I’m still learning where my limits are when it comes to impact play. I can take a long, thuddy spanking with enough warm up. If my partner helps me build up to it, I can take stingy pain and flurries of sharp, fast spanks. I’m learning to breath into the pain and find the headspace where I can welcome it. I’m learning the ways I can satisfy my need to be hurt.

My enboifriend is into fucking me up using pressure points. I squirm and squeal and feel incredibly subby when they hurt me like that, especially when they use their Dom voice to tell me to open my eyes so they can watch me take the pain for them. It’s incredibly hot and I love it so much.

But it doesn’t leave marks.

I can rarely take enough pain for it to leave marks. A blissed out spanking will give me fleetingly pink ass cheeks, but nothing that lasts. I want bruises to prove to myself that I can take that much pain. I also, however, realise it’s not healthy to think that my worth as a submissive is defined by whether or not my skin is covered in marks. The sadists I fuck know how much they hurt me, and no one has asked me to prove that I’m a real submissive by showing me off the welts on my arse.

I’m learning my limits, but I’m also trying to unlearn that self-judgement. Maybe I can’t take enough pain to be left with marks, but that’s ok: having a low pain tolerance doesn’t mean I’m not a pain slut.

#januaryJumpStart badgeKink of the Week badgeThis year I’m joining in with January Jumpstart, which is run by the brilliant Violet Fawkes. Kink of the Week is a project by the wonderful Molly Moore. 

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1 Comment

  1. Personally, what matters to me is that a partner reacts to the pain, so a low pain threshold is by no means a disadvantage. Squirms, wriggles, sighs, gasps, tears; all are lovely. Stoic acceptance, not so much.

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