Mystery Bruises

     I was going to title this blog post “Season’s Beatings,” but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Too corny.  The content matter of my sex life lends itself to lampooning enough as it is.  

      Tonight I dressed up to go out with some of my old girlfriends, and I wore a sleeveless top.  I’ve been wearing sleeves all week because it’s cold.

      Well, later in the evening, someone asked me how I got the bruises on my arm.  Surprised, I looked down, and sure enough–there were marks on my skin.  They were on the inside, almost the underside, so I understand how I missed them.  

      I didn’t know what to say, because I’ll be damned if I have a clue about how they got there.  I mean, I know–gotta be the Surgeon; I haven’t let anyone else beat me recently, alas.  I had to have gotten them the last time I saw him…but I don’t remember what caused these marks in particular.

    Mystery bruises are not at all unusual (as I wrote about here !!!sensitive–work alert!!!).  When there are multiple blows (and there almost always are) overlapping on the same area(s) of the skin (which they almost always do), the pain from one area of impact bleeds into another. It becomes impossible for my brain to distiguish the strikes with any certainty.  Especially if I can’t see them land, which, again, is typical.  

     I find that the only thing that helps me distinguish the strikes if they’re coming hard and heavy is if the impliments used to deliver them are switched fairly often.  I’ve known men who liked to use many different tools in a scene–Heinrich, in particular, comes to mind, he has an arsenal–and I often do it myself when I control others.  The Surgeon’s choice of weaponry is pretty predictable, however.  Like all obsessive-compulsive people, he is a creature of habit through and through.  Every now and then he’ll shake it up, but he mostly uses the same two or three tools.  Excluding his teeth.  

      Which brings us back, gentle reader, to the bruises on my arm.  What the hell caused them?  I wish I’d seen them before they faded so much.  I’ve got some on my back and legs, but they don’t look like these.  

       At first I thought they might be bites, because of the dotted look of the lines–see here?

     But that isn’t shaped like a bite mark.  The ones on my arm are all strangely shaped.  Maybe chain?  I am leaning towards chain, but I really can’t figure it out.  And how did they get on the inside like that?  I am thinking it must have happened when my wrists were behind my back–that exposes the inner arm.  But then–the chain? 

     I’ll run it by the Surgeon; ask him if he has any ideas.  He won’t mind.  He gets a kick out of it when I play CSI Investigator the day afterward.  It’s interesting, actually, what comes out of his mouth sometimes when we have these conversations.

     “Sometimes, I really don’t know how you can take all that,” he told me once.  We were in a Hotel suite in midtown (oh, hotel suites I have known!).  We were taking a break after about three hours.  He was sitting on the sofa, stabbing at the sushi he’d just had delivered.  I was…I don’t remember what I was doing.  I was obliterated; off in la-la land.  

     “I seldom hold anything back.  A lot of times, I hit you as hard as I can.”

       Interesting, that.  Very interesting. 

       A prudent woman would be wise to consider the implications of that statement.  

4 thoughts on “Mystery Bruises”

  1. Over the years I’ve been both fascinated and repulsed by the collection of bruises I’ve amassed. So it came as a complete surprise that a properly administered beating need not result in any marking at all.

    Though beatings and prudence can make strange bedfellows we’ve got just one body to give.

  2. My first reaction towards your claim was complete skepticism, but then I remembered that I myself know how to administer pain that leaves no or strictly superficial (re: gone in a few hours) marking. So, yes, I suppose it can be done–though, doesn’t it limit the scope of potential activities somewhat? I’m a pretty heavy player when I bottom (hell, I’m a pretty heavy player when I top, if I am fortunate enough to be with someone who can take what I want to give him). I go big. I don’t know whether I can get the sensations I want without some attendant tissue damage (wow, that sounds sick. But here at Miss Margo Manor, that’s how we roll!)

    Also, my skin is very fair. Ancestors did not exactly come from the sunshine capitals of Europe.

    My body is always an afterthought; it doesn’t matter to me. Aside from this stuff that I do, I maintain its appearance, but I do not do that for reasons of health or vanity. It’s just a tool.

    Finally, because I think it’s inferred in your statement (or maybe it’s not, and I’m projecting this onto it, which is telling): the Surgeon does a lot of this on purpose. I know because the severity of the marks fluctuates in response to his level of agitation and anxiety. He thinks it will make me wear a burqua or something. It doesn’t. I must admit that I have rescheduled a few dates because of it, though.

    Wow, maybe this should be a blog post. TY for the inspiration, Advo! Do you think it would be worth reading? I would definitely have to file it under “moonbat crazy.” Whatever. Transparency is a regime value!

    It’s funny–in the last few weeks I finally dropped the ambiguity and dropped the ‘a’ bomb (alcoholism), the AA bomb, and the SM bomb on this blog. For months previously, I adamantly refused to do it, even though individuals familiar with these subjects recognized what they were reading. I was scared it would be a disaster (imagine that). However, after I put myself out there, my readership has trebled and I have gotten some awesome emails from complete strangers! Only a few haters. Thank you, strange readers (but not haters)! Alex and Advo for the links.


  3. Yeah, I think you are right that heavy play may sometimes involve some attendant and hopefully temporary tissue damage. Because I was a sneak for so many years I couldn’t take marks. When I’d get marked, the marking was a turn on in and of itself for sure.

    I think it’s a great post idea. Not “moonbat crazy” but an interesting “community topic”.

    I always wrestle with how much detail to include in the blog and what to leave out. But the benefit of the “virtual community” has inspired me to be somewhat open. Sometimes weird when I meet a “stranger” who reads me and they’ll ask me an “informed” question. I’m all like, “hey, you don’t know me well enough to ask me that.” But then I realize I’ve chosen to put it out there.

    Glad you are enjoying a growing readership.

    Honestly, I pretty much write for myself and have never run Analytics for numbers. However, I’m a total comment whore – so thank you for your comments!

  4. Thanks for your response, Advo.

    I may respond to this later in greater detail–right now I’m rushed for time. Sucks that you had to be sneaky. I have been sneaky with a boyfriend in the past–it was a fresh relationship, and we hadn’t had a monogamy talk, but I got banged up (no ‘real’ sex was involved, interestingly) and I lied about it, I admit. I made up a preposterous explanation–said that I slipped on the wet metal bleachers at a college football game. Absurd–the marks were not representative of this, though my ass was bruised (futhermore: I’d rather do ANYTHING else than go to a football game. MEATHEADS!). I was so embarrassed to have to lie. It kinda made me feel like a degenerate, and I’d never felt that way about my sexuality before.

    Have you read my “Love Letter” post, Advo? I’d be interested in your opinion of it, if it provokes a response in you.

    More later if I can; I’m catching up with comments and I gotta hustle.
    P.S. I left a comment–don’t know if you get emails about comments–about your blog post where you were ironing the (red?) tablecloth? for the dinner/party.

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