Gracie\'s Playground

Sunday March 10th 2013, 11:02 pm
Filed under: Deviant Dreams,Grace,Masochist,Masturbation,Mindfuck

Cutting lipsWarning: This post is not for the faint of heart as it discusses a topic of cutting and blood. If you can’t stomach such a topic, please do not read. You have been warned.

I’ve been in a dark space lately. I go through these phases and they just gradually grow worse and worse the more my need goes unattended. My mind is constantly deep in thought when it’s not focused on the current task at hand. It has led to me having a very bad bout of insomnia and my mind feels as if it’s diminishing every sleepless night.

Someone (Daemon) suggested I write about razors and while I feel he is the true master at this topic it did spur some thought processes as I was soaking in the tub during another insomniac trance.

When I was very young I took my dad’s razor refill box. I was fascinated with razors at a young age and also with the thorns on rose bushes that grew abundantly in the back yard. One afternoon I took my dad’s razors and tucked them away in my pocket. I was a thief, a liar and a cheat at a very young age and it was all for survival. Having a shiny and sharp treasure in my pocket was the best thing and when I was alone I would sneak the box out and stare at the razors hidden inside. I knew they were sharp. I knew they were dangerous. I knew they would draw blood.

My own blood and cuts never caused me fear. It was a fascination to watch the bright red bead from my skin, as I would suck the wound for comfort. Watching the fresh cut pull open exposing layers of skin and flesh inside. It wasn’t sexual back then but it was intrigue and comfort watching the cut heal over the course of days. Picking the scabs to make it bleed again and sometimes I would scar up. My body is riddled with scars. Some self inflicted, some accidental and quite a few medically needed. When I injured myself, I didn’t run to my parents for comfort, in fact, I hid the wounds from them.

The night I stole my dad’s razor refills I slept with them in my hand like a doll. It was comforting. When I awoke the next morning I found dried blood and cuts on my hands and arms. A razor had slipped from the refill box and danced on my skin during the night. Yet, the only panic I felt was my parents knowing I had taken the razors. I saw a blade on my sheet stained with my blood lying there innocently and another blade trying to free itself from the box. I washed my hands and the water stung the open wounds but it was all a rush for me watching the blood and water swirl down the sink to be long forgotten. I threw the rouge razor blade away and put the razor box back in the medicine cabinet.

Fast forward to my late twenties and I’m still innocent to the extent of sexual behaviors. My thoughts were always dark but it was a morbid dark and I had yet to transfer this darkness into a sexual manner. I was not aware of people using sharp objects for sexual pleasure. My first mental exposure was with V (you will need to dig to the older posts) and reading about someone’s experiences was with Daemon. Daemon’s blog is not for the faint of heart. He is raw, honest and the most sadistic man I have ever encountered in my years of keeping this blog. Reading Daemon’s blog opened a dark world to me and even more it caused a deep arousal that caused countless masturbation sessions over the years he maintained the blog. It was connecting all the dots and truly seeing the darkness.

My desire for shiny sharp objects grew and grew over the years: razor blades, knives, scissors, scalpels and a personal love for straight razors. I dream of someone I can trust to carve my skin with skill, experience and creativity. To draw my blood, hear my gasps and cries and yet arousal streaming from my mouth. Tending to my wounds, fucking me and reopening fresh wounds. Fucking the next day to reopen old wounds. Breaking me and putting me back together. It’s the ultimate sexual interaction for me. Cutting myself is not the same. I know what’s coming. I have to fix myself and I’m tired of fixing myself. For once, I want someone to take a true charge of my body and mind and fix me for just one moment. That one moment I can just let go.

That sense of balance.

That sense of comfort.

That sense of, I’m alive.

In the meantime to curb some of this I have pierced, stretched my ears and sat for hours of tattooing. It gives me a rush to have the pain and watch it heal over the days and weeks. It’s a sense of meditation for me to get a tattoo. I sit there and savor the pain. Sometimes I get to see the blood bead from my skin as the needle penetrates me over and over. The wiping of my blood and ink mixed together. The scratched burn afterwards. It’s near perfection sans an orgasm.

I have found my interactions with various lovers is this; I bring out the worst in a man/woman. I am the enabler of dark desires. I will take a boundary and go beyond it because I can and they don’t stop me. They don’t want to. I’m the devil that hangs on your shoulder telling you to do it because we are here to live and not indulging in this one moment may never happen again. Just do it. I’m dangerous. I’m destructive. I’m immoral. I have no shame. I harbor no regrets. People uncomfortably laugh at my claims but that’s because they have not seen me for what I am. It’s denial because they don’t want to think that my seemingly nice demeanor couldn’t possibly have a menacing side. It does. I wear a mask and sometimes the mask slips. Sometimes I scare people. Sometimes I make people nervous. Sometimes people fade away. I won’t apologize for this. I refuse. Life is far too short to dwell on my childhood misfortunes or trying to figure out why I am like this.

I follow this simple motto and have been doing so since a teenager who survived a failed attempt at killing myself:


22 Comments so far
Tell me something

I don’t think I’ve ever commented here before, but this post in particular drew me.

We have areas, shall we say, of some overlapping interest. Except that you’re far more honest about it than I. I’ve rationalized my inclinations using sophistry. Spent years putting that darkness into social and historical context, to ascribe it references and theoretical frames. It saved me from having to own it.

Thanks for the post.

Comment by Remittance Girl 03.11.13 @ 12:08 am

RG, I appreciate your input and insight. We will have to have a pow wow one of these days to dig into each other’s brains.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.11.13 @ 9:44 am

You just made me salivate

Comment by Remittance Girl 03.11.13 @ 9:49 am

RG, Good to know.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.11.13 @ 10:02 am

That kind of pain has always terrified me. I am afraid of that one cut gone wrong, me to flinch and make it deeper than it should have been. Just like the act of choking someone before orgasm. But I am fascinated by my own blood and like you as a child would suck the wounds I could reach. I think tattoos are beautiful, yet I fear getting one because of the pain that comes with it. I hate needles yet gave birth 3 times. I know I am twisted and confused. I hope you find what you are looking for darlin’

Comment by Twisted Angel 03.11.13 @ 4:11 am

Twisted Angel, Certain kinks are not for everyone. That is the beauty of freedom and choice. We can’t help what we like or are obsessed with.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.11.13 @ 9:48 am

Loved reading this. Very similar to my own story / feelings. Have you thought about getting scarification work done? That is my next venture… It’s difficult to explain the desire to have your skin cut and torn off, but I can’t deny the allure. I think the healing process would be intensely meditative and grounding.

Comment by RillianRuthless 03.11.13 @ 1:39 pm

RillianRuthlss, I haven’t thought about scarification. I desire something more intimate with someone I know vs. a stranger I am paying to cut me up. I’m seeking a connection to get a proper balance. Thank you for the comment and stopping by.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.11.13 @ 2:41 pm

This post was chilling and I mean that in a very positive way. There’s a raw honesty here that is so compelling.

Comment by Mina Lamieux 03.11.13 @ 2:02 pm

Mina, Thanks a lot. I know these posts are not for everyone but I still have to stand by this sense of writing for me or writing for therapy. I am not going to make everyone happy but I don’t want to be that writer writing for everyone else. This is still my area that is mine to keep and if people want to look in, they can. Also, writing this post was due to a several insomnia ridden bender that hand my mind really messed up and exhausted. It seems I was finally able to sleep after getting this out. But it still doesn’t mean I found any mental peace. That’s going to be a hard one to deal with.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.11.13 @ 2:43 pm

Unflinching. Honest.

Comment by X 03.12.13 @ 2:05 am

X, thanks. I just had to get a point across.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.13.13 @ 1:33 pm

I’ve had a lifelong fascination with pain, and blood (my own). I have more scars than I can count, and I don’t do limits well. Often it feels like I’m the only one, a freak of nature – it’s nice to be reminded that there are others out there like me 😉 Thank you!

Comment by Sessha Batto 03.14.13 @ 7:58 am

Sessha Batto, We are never alone with our quirks and kinks. Thank you for stopping by to comment.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.14.13 @ 9:35 am

in my few years of experience with performing, let us say, the gratification of others through torturous means, I have come upon a subject with your intensity only once. we have had an ongoing relationship for over a year now on the sole basis of our mutual interest. I love her, and it shows when I cut her or break her bones. since you are being unabashedly, blatantly honest, this post makes me want to get to know the author. of course free will sometimes robs us of our desires.

Comment by huskythingad 03.14.13 @ 11:46 am

huskythingad, It’s true. Free will could spoil the whole experience. Forced tends to be better, at least in my case.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.15.13 @ 3:35 pm

that it’s certainly something I will reflect on. but in my experience, once you find a subject’s buttons, they always say yes. I prefer to seduce and THEN ravage. all I meant was that if you don’t catch the other person’s interest, there is no reason for them not to say no.

Comment by huskythingad 03.15.13 @ 7:03 pm

huskythingad, saying “no” is part of the play.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.17.13 @ 10:54 am

Interesting, I enjoyed reading it.

Comment by TFP 03.17.13 @ 6:23 am

TFP, a thank you very much.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.17.13 @ 10:53 am

Enabler of dark desires… I feel your pain and your excitement 🙂

Comment by jane blow 03.25.13 @ 10:35 pm

Jane, Thank you. I know I’m going to find that “better” half to me one of these days.

Comment by Dark Gracie ® 03.25.13 @ 10:53 pm

Say what is on your mind
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