Eden Cafe

A popular TV show that discusses the topic of sex offenders suggests that victims of molestation are groomed to it. That they are led to trust their molesters to the point that they feel it was their own fault. I can’t be sure that I’m any more or less damaged for acknowledging my sexual trauma. Knowing myself though, I knew I would need to go through something to deal with it. Not just a mental acknowledgement but something physical and tangible.
The belt was a hard limit. After being belted for the last time by my step dad, I vowed to never let anyone ever hit me with a belt again. Strangely, since the realization that he in fact DID feel me up when I was drunk, I began to have fantasies about being belted. It’s the only real trauma I have ever really claimed to have as a child. I was 12, too old for the belt, and it was excessive punishment for stealing $5. It was not right, to be 12 years old, and having to pull down my pants and lay down on a bed so my mother’s husband could beat me. It was even more disturbing to know that the night before I was lying across his lap while he rubbed my bare back.
I remember feeling fear and a loss of control. It made me feel small, and worthless. My parents had always spanked- but this was the first time I truly felt that I had been beaten. I remember screaming. It was fear, true fear. I wonder now what he was thinking, but really I don’t want to know.
So somehow in my mind, I needed to face this. I wanted to face him somehow. Be in control. When my Dom and I would talk about fantasies and the things that make me hot- the belt always comes up. I don’t know much about sexualizing abuse. It seems twisted, but the belting seems more significant. It’s my last grudge. I feel that I have to face it. I have to face the belt.
At the play party we went to, Sir had me on the whipping rack. It was our second time on the rack that night, and the first time he had just caned me. By this time, the party was in full swing, and we were relaxed and having a wonderful time. He took the belt and threw it over the rack, so it hung in my face. A mind fuck. I’d known he had it with him, I’d asked him if he would bring it. We had talked about it, and I only needed to tell him when I felt ready. So earlier in the evening, I’d picked it up out of his toy box and handed it to him. No words were spoken.
Leaning over this padded A frame I felt the bouncing of the cane on my ass and thighs. Each strike getting stronger and faster. My moans increased and decreased with his speed. It goes from a quick whack to a sharp sting. Again and again and again, harder and harder. Whackwhackwhackwhackwhack until I was standing on my toes and my moaning became a high pitched screaming plea.
He stopped and reached for the flogger. It came down on my back and shoulders. I moaned and curled my toes into the baseboard. The flogger on my upper back and shoulders is a heavenly thuddy pain. It’s a more heavy pain that with repetition starts to burn. It’s a hot burn that melts into my hungry skin.
When I opened my eyes, the belt was no longer hanging in front of me. I knew it was coming. I was ready. I could face this. I was horny and wet. I was safe with my Dom. I could stop at any time. I didn’t have to be afraid. It was pain, and pain was my safety. Pain was cathartic and freeing. It wasn’t about punishment here. It wasn’t about $5, or about the fact that my step dad overpowered me. He wasn’t here to tell me I was a whore for letting my 13 year old boyfriend touch my breasts. He can’t hurt me anymore. Never again.
I felt it touch my skin. The thick leather rubbed across my ass. I breathed slow and heavy. He leaned against my skin, my sore red skin.
“Are you my little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I answered. It was the first time we’d used these names all night. He was making me feel safe. He was reminding me that I was safe. I needn’t come out of my headspace. I was safe and he would protect me.
The first lick came across one cheek. I gasped out loud. My subspace vanished almost instantly. My body tensed. My eyes opened wide and welled up. Helpless and afraid. Oh God.
The second lick came across both cheeks. I heard his voice. I saw his face. I remembered his tirade of insults. You fucking little slut. You are good for nothing.
“Pet?” I looked down to see Sir in front of me. His eyes were concerned, he was touching my face. I blinked my eyes and long rows of thick tears ran down my face. “Oh Baby,” he whispered, “Baby, we need to stop.”
“No!” I cried out. I wiped the tears away. I couldn’t let it be this way. I could not let him win. “I’m ok. I’m not afraid.”
He kissed me, “Pet- you don’t have to. You decide. YOU decide. I’m here now and he can’t hurt you ever again.”
I nodded, wiping away my tears, “Please… I’m fine Sir.” I am not sure why I forced myself to continue. I needed it though. I needed to walk through this fear, and turn it into pleasure. I needed to prove to myself that he hadn’t broken me. That he hadn’t changed who I was to become. That I was not affected by what he did. That he didn’t abuse me. He didn’t molest me. He didn’t hurt me.
I knew that Sir was uncertain, but he knew why I needed it. He was cautious and I heard his voice cracking when he said, “Ok Pet. But look at me. Good girl. You decide.”
I braced myself against the rack and felt the next strike. It was harder than the last two, coming down across my cheeks. I felt like I was being stabbed. The tears poured from my eyes, it was happening again. My step dad, that son of a bitch, was haunting me. He was laughing at me. I could hear him.
The last lick connected with my flesh, and somewhere from within my soul I cried out, “Daddy, please No!”
He was at my side immediately. He cradled my face, and hugged me, “Oh my baby, my girl. It’s ok now. It’s me. I’m here.” He comforted me, and guided me to the chair. He sat down and pulled me into his lap where I curled into his arms and sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I thought I could… I thought…. I wanted to…”
He quieted me and hugged me tight, “Oh baby….” his voice was like a blanket, “You are safe with me. You are my girl now. I will protect you.”
He held me for a long time, kissed my cheeks and wiped away my tears. Maybe I was not ready yet to face that demon. Maybe it was too soon. Then again, maybe I will never be ready. Perhaps I will never be able to face the belt.
Maybe he DID change who I was to become.
I can’t change that back. I can only decide where I go from here but it’s up to me. I decide.