Recently I've discovered just how intense my personal propensity for violence is; that horrid thrill that comes of bruising skin and tearing flesh brings me a joy unmatched by any form of sexual intimacy. Naturally, my horror at the idea of harming a person who doesn't wish to be harmed hasn't been at all diminished- but where I once thought myself completely incapable of violence, I find that I'm certainly quite capable and very, very willing.
One of my partners, who we shall here call C, happens to be rather extremely masochistic. The slightest twinge of pain can start him squirming, and if I bite him hard enough he can be set screaming (in the best way). He bruises like a peach, and is terribly proud of it: any time I give him a particularly good one he shows it off to all of our friends (and his). He'll occasionally start waxing poetic about how beautiful I make him when I bruise him. Sometimes he sounds like a goddam BDSM fanfic.
Of course, I'm not a terrible fan of just hitting someone. It's not terribly interesting, and a slap or punch is hardly satisfying. I much prefer my teeth. According to just about everyone I've bitten (i.e. anyone I've ever slept with and a few that I haven't) I'm possess unusually sharp teeth. This, combined with my difficulty in understanding my own physical strength, has led to plenty of bruises and more than a few cases where I've pierced the skin- the latter occurrences being some of the most satisfying.
The faint taste of blood on my teeth after I break the skin makes me shudder with horror and pleasure. I find myself just as proud of C's bruises as he is at times, especially the particularly extreme ones. Once, another one of my partners was left with marks on his neck after I had choked him during sex- an act he greatly enjoyed, I should add- and when I heard that several people on campus asked him if he was being abused and needed help, I found myself giddy and proud.
Biting into a person as I would bite into a piece of meat is among the greatest ecstasies in my life; knowing that I can mark my partner whenever I wish to as though he were chattel delights me. Hearing his cries of pain when I pull his hair and slap his face, seeing him smile and beg for more... These things make me love him even more than I already do.
I take primarily emotional pleasure from sex, and while I enjoy the physical aspect, I tend to act far more engrossed than I truly am for the benefit of whomever I'm sleeping with. The act of bringing pain to these people brings the emotional pleasure to new heights.
I'm going to bring this rambling, repetitive rant to a close, now; forgive me for indulging myself in such a manner. I feel obligated to leave a final promise that I am not, in fact, a terrifically violent person outside of my sexual proclivities, and take no pleasure in any sort of violence outside of what is Safe, Sane, and Consensual. In short, worry not- if I show up in your house at night, my teeth stained red, I'm not there to murder you- I was probably just banging your roommate.