Playing with childhood phobias
On my second day with Max, I revealed to him a long-term dislike and fear – one might say phobia, as it is pretty irrational and mostly a mental and psychological fear – of needles and piercings. I pointed out my lack of earring piercings and emphatically declined Max’s offer to stick needles in Blondie for me to watch, to see if I would be interested in doing it as well.
Well, little did I know, but Doms and sadists are constantly taking notes regarding things like this. Sure enough, a little later in the week – I don’t remember when exactly, probably because my mind has been busy blocking that part away to keep me sane – Max began insinuating his desire to pierce me. Not only that, but he specifically wanted me to ask him to pierce me.
This is not unlike asking someone with a fear of electrocution (Oh hey! That’s me as well) to grab onto the end of an active cattle prod.
For his pleasure.
And that really is the kicker. It was his pleasure that I give this to him, despite this overwhelming fear. And so, despite all my self-preservation screaming and railing against it, I desperately wanted to be able to do this for him.
Throughout the rest of the week, Max would punctuate our sessions with reminders of that request and desire. He would tell me that I will say to him, when the time came, “Please, Sir, I want to give this to you.” Then he would make me repeat it, and repeat it, until he was convinced I meant it.
And so it continued, until the fear of needles, and the arousal from the utter submission, and the intensity of the pain he dealt me at the same time, all merged and coalesced into a singular, seething mass of nerves and adrenaline.
The weight of the question and of whether or not I would be able to give him the answer he desired remained on my mind for the duration of my time with Max. Up until the last night, I tried to convince myself that it would be fine, that the fear was entirely irrational anyway, that it would not hurt all that much, that there was no reason that thinking about piercing should make me flush and start to hyperventilate…
(The odd thing is that I have no problem with getting shots at the doctor’s – never have – and my calm with hypodermic needles has gotten to the point that a nurse administering a shot once had to ask me if I was okay, if I had felt anything, because I hadn’t reacted at all.)
So I tried to rationalize my fear of needle play so that I could, when or if Max asked, say with conviction that, yes, I wanted him to pierce me. At a certain point over the weekend, I thought, I can do this! It’s really not that big a deal. I can totally get over this. It’ll be fine!
And then, Wednesday night, as I sat between his knees on the floor of a friend’s personal dungeon, Max took my face between his hands, lifting it so that I was looking straight at him, and told me, very calmly and softly, that he wanted to put needles in me.
I instinctively shrank away, my eyes widened, and I sank back on my knees, my breath quickening. Max told me to think about my answer, assured me that there was no wrong response, that I was strong and brave regardless of my answer.
I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and tried hard to formulate the phrase he wanted me to say. All my internal assurances vanished, and I knew I couldn’t do it. I sat there, disappointment already churning through my gut, and Max could see clearly what my answer was. He again assured me that it was okay to say no, that being able to say no was just as important as saying yes, because it made the yeses all the more valuable. And relief flooded through my body at that acceptance.
Still, still. It was difficult knowing I had refused him something he wanted to do and, further, something he wanted me to experience. I was disappointed for not being able to get over an irrational fear for him. I wonder what it would take to be able to overcome something like this.
Overall, I am glad I didn’t do it. I’m not ready. I don’t know why, and I don’t know when or if I ever will be ready, but having now had the experience of reaching such a hard, unyielding boundary, I’m glad that I was able to say no. In past reflections on my various phobias – electricity and needles being the two prevalent ones I’ve come face to face with because of my proximity to the kink community – I’ve believed I would be able to overcome them at the behest of another. I see now that it will take more than that – and, to be sure, even my closeness and intense bonding with Max doesn’t hide the fact that I really have only known him for 8 days. For something like this, I’m sure it will take a much longer-term relationship: of building closeness, trust, and intimacy over time.
And then, perhaps, when that question is asked, I will be able to give a different response.