I think I figured out today what’s made Frank’s current treatment so tough to deal with on a day to day basis. It’s all in the timing.

What he likes most lately is hard, fast and heavy. No warm up, no shifting head space, no transition time. Not just for the pain play, but for the sex, too.

It’s hard to deal with, actually. Deep down, I’m still a woman. I take longer to arouse, longer to get into things.

He did needles this morning, two on the sides of each nipple. Needles as the climax to a scene … _that’s_ how I think they should be used. But just out of the blue, first thing in the morning? He is definitely a sadist.

For some reason, they seemed to hurt way more than the ones he did at the Folsom play party not that long ago. Might be because he tied up my tits first, so that put more pressure on them? Might be because the needles at least looked thicker to me.

I crashed hard afterwards, in the shower with him actually, mostly because it all seemed so cold and calculated. I think I really need more encouragement and praise, to be treated more like a person than an object, and I just don’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

I’m trying to be what he wants, but I don’t think words and deeds are enough. If he really wants an object, I’m not sure I’m cut out to be it.

I think there are two types of sadists — one who really wants his partner to get off on the pain, a true masochist. And another who gets off on hurting someone who isn’t getting off on it. He’s seemed to migrate really hard toward the second lately.

Takes a lot of nerve to go there, I think. He’s got to be a bit of a cheeky bastard to push through all of my fear and resistance. He probably gets off on it.

I think I’m one of those masochists who gets off on it before and after, but definitely not during. And I think I’m seeking some sort of emotional connection from the process — praise for trying, encouragement, pleasure at my obedience, something. Who knows.

But today, I’m not getting off on it after, either.