A maelstrom of laughter and blows

I'd like to thank you warmly for the afternoon you allowed me to spend with you at the Goûter du Divin Marquis. I felt very much at home with you, privileged and protected by your necklace.

It was my first experience in public. Arriving at Le Goûter with you, my apprehension quickly dissipated by virtue of a long-observed law: the freedom of some facilitates and encourages that of others. A gallery of bodies, talking, going, fetish-clad or not. Partially nude or not.

/... /

Yesterday afternoon, you introduced me to an unprecedented pleasure: "coat rack", "piano head", "oak tree"... these were the words you used to poke fun at me with certain guests. /.../. I took malicious pleasure in watching you effortlessly destroy any possibility of vanity. Vulnerable in the presence of so many strangers, sheltered by your benevolence, which you could never betray. My only regret: your corset, which I failed to lace properly. I blame myself for having spoiled the care you take in your art of living with a detail, knowing that detail is everything with you, and that this is whereit is hiding, they say.

You finally invited me to come up and play... I'm coming up alone. /.../

Then we played. With you, it's hard to dominate from below. I wanted to throw myself on my chains, to give myself up, but you would swing the metronome to the rhythm that suited you. Delicious frustration. You ended up treating me like a dog: Pavlovian education. To associate a penis with the clanking of musketoons, I regard as more profoundly perverse than the 120 Days of Sodom. There's something violently dehumanizing, almost criminal, about approaching a person from a strictly mechanical point of view, so naturally I laughed along with you...

What followed was a maelstrom of laughter and blows, around which your mind-lightning whirled. Sometimes I'd turn around to observe your posture, your legs, your science. I was also developing my own... When you sank your teeth into my arm, I felt your jaw, tried to sense and visualize the whole of your skull depending on the angle and force you applied...

At the end, the pain was exquisite, my body was burning. Your cane strokes were severe. It wasn't the place for it, but deep down I longed for the absolute. Sitting in a cathedral, the day comes to an end. Night comes and removes the stained-glass windows one by one. In the same way, I longed for each stroke of the cane to become more severe, removing my laughter, my pride, my vanity, leaving only a final plea to acknowledge your sovereignty. I beg you not to see in this a mortifying desire, only the dangerous wish to contemplate two solitudes facing each other. This shared solitude, difficult to contemplate face-to-face, you expressed simply and perfectly when you told me you didn't feel my pain. A sweet truth. The more I hurt, the more I wanted to melt into that truth. To measure the infinite distance between us.

I still have several marks on my buttocks and upper back. On my left arm - which you bit fiercely - a large red haematoma covers a large part of it, the edges are blue, it is crossed by a violet and dark blue nebula. Before you went to sleep, it was a little red ink stain in the center of your teeth marks. Then night. Then the hatching. Just above the hematoma, a slight curved cut reminds me of a tooth.

Testimony of D.