Abuse.....

"Suddenly, a song starts playing. The old feelings become new again, the past comes crashing in with a renewed clarity.

Scared, so scared. Not sure what is going to happen afraid to even speculate. When the day is over, what will the results of the rage be? What will be left of the shell of a person in the corner?
Thunk, thunk, thunk, his steps as he draws closer, ever closer, with that look in his eyes, are amplified by her fear. Will this be the day he goes over the edge? Will it be tomorrow? When will it end? Who will survive the final confrontation? Who will want her, broken and afraid, when he is done? Will anyone ever want her again? She deserves no better then him. Nothing can be done right. His anger is all she can see, as she peers through a black eye, afraid to even breathe the wrong way. The blows begin to rain in. His rage goes on. She begs and pleads with him to stop, she says she loves him, and, in a way, she believes she does. When will he stop tonight, what can she say to make him stop? To make him believe she loves him? When will she get the courage to leave? Will it be too late when she does get the courage? Will he perceive that new found strength in her and decide to end her then and there?

In the background, she hears a sweet lullaby, she is lulled into sleep. It is not the song that makes her sleep, though, it is the almost unbearable pain, both physical and mental, and that actually causes her to black out. When will she awaken? Will she awaken? When she does, if she does, will he still be there? Will he still be in a rage? Will he hold her pass out against her?

Fear. She can taste it as sure as she can taste the blood from her split lip. Pain and anguish wash over her in the black depths of unconsciousness. Suddenly, she is calm. He cannot hurt her in this dark place. She cannot feel the blows she knows he is still inflicting. All she feels are the loving arms of the spirits surrounding her, lending her their strength, comforting her, giving her peace while in the midst of all the violence.

She knows she will go on, that this will not be the day he finishes her off, that this will not be the day she goes to her eternal slumber. She knows what she must do. She must end this all, she must leave and get away. But he will come looking for her; he will try to disrupt any semblance of normalcy she can make for herself."

This is a true story, a story I wrote when reflecting upon my past, before I married Master. It is a story of unmistakable horror, one I almost did not wake up from. It is the story of abuse so great, it almost snuffed out my life before I really had a chance to live.
The person dishing out the abuse was someone I trusted, someone I submitted to. I never thought he would cross the line, and I did not realize it right away when he had. In this lifestyle, there is a certain degree of violence that goes along with being a pain slut, but, when the violence is dished out in anger and fear, it becomes wrong.
The line between actual abuse and consensual violence is thin and, sometimes, drawn in the sand. It is up to the Dominant to find out where that line is and how to prevent crossing it. When does being called a useless whore go from being mental sadism to abuse? When does issuing a belt whipping go from physical sadism to abuse?
Does the change occur when a safe word is ignored? Does it happen when the submissive is no longer able to speak for herself? Does it occur when a contract, either physical or verbal, is broken when it comes to beatings and mental sadism?
If a Dom is pushing His submissive's limits without crossing them, is He abusing her? Or just giving her what she has requested? That fine, thin line is there, but how does one know when it is crossed?
As a physical and mental pain slut, it takes a lot to find where my line is. But, it is there, and Master has never come near it. My abuser, on the other hand, crossed it the very first time he picked up the belt or hurled an insult in anger.
I think that is the big difference. If Master were to give me a belt whipping while I am on the floor on all fours, hurling degrading remarks at me while belting me it would be considered physical and mental sadism. Whereas, if my abuser would do the same thing in the same manner and situation, it would be considered abuse because he would be doing it out of anger and hatred.
What signifies that line between sexual violence and abuse, role play and actual rape, sadism and abuse? Two words separate them, in my opinion... Trust and consent.
If you do not trust the Dominant you are with, then you can never be sure if they will stop before they cross into something you have not given your consent to before hand.
Want to know the rest of the story??

"Suddenly she is back in the present. The loving arms are again around her, this time, though, they are not those of an angel, but those of the One she loves, One deserving of her love, her Protector, the One who took her in, broken and battered, and showed her it is ok to love again and trust again. He has become her Angel on earth and has shown her she deserves everything she has and more. He loves her and shows her every day, He cherishes her and holds her up on a pedestal.

She feels the arms of her Angel on earth enfold around her. Her Angel saved her, from the feelings of worthlessness. Her Angel made her feel whole again.

Before her Angel came along, she was just a shell of a girl, the discarded little thing in the corner, alone and scared, but full of more courage then she will ever realize, the courage it took to leave, without looking back.

She was afraid to be herself, afraid of the pain, the hatred, coming back again. She saw his face on every street corner, every city, and every house she entered. She was afraid of the hurt. The pain inflicted by a man. Because of the rages, she was afraid to be herself, but her Angel on earth cured her of that fear. Her Angel allowed her to be herself, and under her Angel's patience, love and trust, she flourished. She grew to be more then the former husk of a girl she was before.

Even though he still haunts her nightmares from time to time, it is less and less, the memories of the pain dulling over time, the hurt from his words lessening over time. He no longer has control over her mind. Her Angel has broken his control over her.

Her Angel has taught her to love again, to trust, and to feel whole. She did not think she was deserving of love, trust and compassion, but her Angel showed her she was. What he beat out of her, her Angel replaced. What he did to her with his degrading remarks, her Angel reversed. Her Angel helped replace her self confidence, helped her become the woman she is today.

Her Angel is still helping her, holding her up, showing her off. What one man destroyed and stole, her Angel, another Man, has repaired and replaced. Her Angel has saved her, when she thought all hope was lost, her Angel rescued her, and she will be forever grateful to her Angel for the gifts bestowed upon her by His hand.

I was that girl, and You, My Love, are my Angel on Earth."