Numbing pain, obedience and love

Of all the things that Maxearnest likes to do with me, there is one I just hate.  Hate.  Hate, hate, hate hate.  They are these little black silicon pads with sharp points he has me put in my shoes, then stand and walk.  I hate them.  They make me feet not quite fit in my shoe, so there is pain all over, especially in my pinky toes, which end up feeling a little crushed and on an angle.  The top of my feet feel pushed.  And of course they push the bottom where I'm standing.

They numb me out.  They make me hate being submissive.  They make me wish I were normal, so I didn't have to endure this thing that just feels like it crushes my spirit, for what--why does he want me to be that unhappy?  They make me feel like I have to earn love for what I do, with my pain, instead of just being loved regardless.  They make me question why I've accepted the entire D/s realm.  They remind me of the ex and all the things I've endured.  I hate them. There is no aspect of them that I like nor do I see any advantage.  But I have obeyed and rebelled only with my eyes and Maxearnest is certainly aware when I'm not happy.

I don't like being humbled.  But I accept it.  And it makes me wet.  (Maxearnest would never humiliate me.  Even if I did something wrong, and he punished me for it, he'd tell me I disappointed him, but he would never call me stupid, or worthless or ugly anything like that.  He'd say that I needed discipline and accepting my punishment would make me his good girl again.)  But he does humble me.  And it is hard for me.  But it doesn't make me hate being a submissive.  It doesn't make me question my decision to embrace submission.
Intellectually, I wish I didn't like to be objectified.  But truth be told, I want to be objectified.  And then cherished and petted and loved.

There are days my nipples hurt for hours afterwards.  I can feel them, not just being tender, but hurting.  Sometimes it is distracting at work to feel my nipples against my bra.  A little reminder all day of what we did that morning.  I can't run for a stoplight, because they hurt.  But it is also a little hot.

When I'm being spanked, there are times I don't know how I can handle any more.  But it still makes me wet.  And when it is done, I'm so glad.  But I also think I could have handled a little more and wonder if I was too much of a wuss.

There's pain that pinches, pain that stings, pain that thuds, and pain that constricts.  There's pain that challenges, pain that seduces, pain that opens me up and makes me more vulnerable and pain that shuts me down and makes me clench, just waiting for it to be over.  Those little black pads are pain that makes me clench, feel worthless and, truth be told, a little hopeless.  I have accepted my lot.  But those black pads make me sad at what my lot is.

He has only done it thrice, because he knows how much I hate them.

But today, we were talking afterwards.  And he could see it in my face, how much I hated those little devious things.  But we talked and I told him how they made me feel.  At first, he wanted me to accept that it is his right.  And I told him it was, and I would do my best to endure.  But as we talked I became a little more articulate about how I felt, and I think it made him sad; he doesn't want me to feel that way, ever.  He said we wouldn't use them on Skype any more.  And I started to tear up.  Part of me didn't want to accept his gift--it felt so lovely, so loving, so kind and generous that he would give up something he enjoys just because I hate it.  He has imposed a hard limit on us, which is that I should never feel like I'm unloved, ever.   I have accepted that I will do things that are hard; we both know that.  But he doesn't want me to feel like I have to earn love.  And if I do feel like I have to earn love, then he will stop.  At least for now.  Maybe when he is here, we'll experiment some more.  But for the time being, I am so very touched.