Biting, A Love Letter

Trigger Warning: Biting and Kink

As I have recently started to enjoy biting more and more, I thought I’d have a go at showing why I love it so much. The following is not a description of a particular occasion, it draws on my experiences with various people I have played with to describe everything it can be to me.

First comes anticipation, a cocktail of excitement and fear. The jolt of arousal as I look into the eyes of someone who’s going to hurt me. I wait breathlessly, wondering how much it will hurt this time.

Their head darts forward, teeth clamping round my arm. My body is shocked by the sudden rush of sensation. Then comes the deep, throbbing pain. It builds as my partner tests me, seeing how much I can take. The world shrinks around me, the two of us are the only things in existence. Then there is nothing but pain, language is stripped away, followd by thought and anxiety. It feels beautiful to be so present in the moment, free from the complexities of real life. There is intimacy in that emotional exposure, in showing vulnerability to my partner.

The adrenaline rises through my system, the primal side of me overwhelms the masochistic side. My face twists into a snarl as the intinct to fight back kicks in. I growl and strike out with my free arm, I don’t break free. I don’t really want to succeed, here the thrill is in fighting, not winning.

My partner releases me, my eyes open, fixating on the fresh marks on my arm. I look up into my partner’s eyes, sometimes tender and caring, sometimes sparkling with sadistic glee. Some give reassurance in that moment, through gentle words or gentler touch. Others grin mischieviously and pinch the fresh mark, laughing as my face twists at the fresh jolt of pain.

Whatever the response, I am filled with gratitude for the experience we just gave each other. I pull them into a hug in silent thanks. I sit for a while, reveling in the way my body sings with pleasure and pain. I slowly come back to myself, feeling an exhibitionist thrill as I notice the people who have seen me lose myself in sensation.

Over the next few weeks I watch the red bites bloom into colourful bruises, and wear them with pride. I treasure these marks for as long as they last, to me they act as a reminder of the experience, and in a strange way they can feel like carrying a small part of my partner with me.

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