You may call me what you wish but what I am remains

Pain is a harmonic language. It’s not enough to master its phrasing and grammar. One must also hear its call, must dive in and feel its terror in the small heartbeat pulsing against your tongue. How else to learn? How else to walk shaded pathways with few travelers?

Love is a deliberate song. First begun in synapse and hormonal euphoria. Easy to discard without attachment. But love beyond simple physical reaction is the choice of the moment and day. The choice to listen with fresh ears. To see with fresh eyes. To fall in love again and again. To see a movement they’ve made a hundred thousand times and smile. And fall in love again.

These two things seem like different pieces of the puzzle which is BDSM. But they are bound together. Can you love someone so deeply that you are willing to give them their desire to feel the heights of pleasure so insidious that the longer it lasts the more it feels like pain? Can you inflict pain and control and lead with both glee and icey calm? Can you allow yourself to trust so completely in another that you give away your freedom? Can you safeword despite not wanting to disappoint? Can you know when they won’t safeword and do it for them?

It is only with the binding of knowledge and love that these things can be accomplished.

All else is just fuck boy greed. The desire to take without being worthy of it. The blind ambition to act on those desires. And the complete lack of either emotional intelligence or compassion.

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