December 2003 was not a great month for me. It was my first Christmas in Australia. I have nothing against either, but for reasons that will soon become apparent, I did not have a very happy holiday.

The pain in my leg and lower back began sometime in November. It was just an annoyance, something akin to a nuisance. I'm not a big fan of pain, nor do I allow it to rule my life. I don't whine and cry and moan, but I do tend to be short-tempered and grumpy. We each deal with pain differently.

Mind you, I was already suffering chronic pain in my right hand, which must have been something akin to tendonitis, but I never managed to quite get that under control either. The right side of my body was falling apart. I'm only forty-two. I can't imagine what it's going to be like when I'm older.

I had been getting weekly massages for a while, the last of which had exacerbated the condition so badly that I didn't go back to the same guy. Yes, the massage therapist was a guy. Not too bad either, but rather rough and considering the increasing pain levels, I thought I might give it a break. I booked instead, an appointment with a woman from the same massage center, who was not only a massage therapist, but an acupuncturist as well.

She was an attractive woman, slim, direct. She asked me to undress down to my briefs and left the room to allow me to do so. I did and lay down on the massage table. I pulled a towel over my legs and ass since I knew that was expected. I knew she'd entered when I heard the door close. She proceeded to coat her hands with oil and give me a nice, relaxing massage. It was sooooo soothing. It was only later I learned she was just buttering me up. I knew she was going to stick pins in me. That's what acupuncture is all about, right?

"I'm going to try to a couple of cups on you. Have you ever heard of cupping?"

Immediately, the image of a Domme popped into my mind. I could see her standing there, legs slightly spread, thigh-high black leather boots shining in the florescent light, a whip in her right hand.

"Ummmm, yeah, I've heard of it." I didn't fill her in on the context.

The next thing I knew, parts of my back are being sucked into little cups and she's twisting and sliding them along. I'm thinking, this is uncomfortable. I tried to think of various subs I've talked to who have enjoyed cupping. I could picture the faraway look in their eyes. The slight catch in their collective breaths. Yes, I could picture them. But they were all the way back in the States and I was in Australia. That was how far away their love of such torture seemed . All I felt was some discomfort. That was until she started sticking needles in me.

Needle play is something I haven't done. I'm not a big fan of inflicting pain anyway, and none of the girls I've been with expressed any interest in needle play at all. I was lying flat on my stomach with my head to the left. I really couldn't see anything she was doing . I might as well have been wearing a blindfold. My arms lay along my sides, resting rather uncomfortably on the narrow table. I was too conscious of them, aware that the slightest move of either would take it over the edge. That was when the first pin was inserted into my hand.

That's not too bad, I thought. I can take this. A second pin went in, not too far from the first; back of the right hand, just near the third knuckle of my ring finger, the site of the pain. So far, so good. Then a third pin, stuck in the side of my hand, between my pinky and my hand proper. I won't say I saw stars. Stars would have been welcome. It HURT. I thought again about subs I've talked to. Focus on the pain. Center on the pain. Feel the pain. ARE THEY NUTS? How could I NOT feel the pain. Still, for the sake of experimentation, I was going to try. Feel the pain. Become the pain. Which pain did they mean? The pain where parts of my back were sucked up into shot glasses or the parts of my hand that were being pierced by small, sharp needles?

"How are you doing, Steve?"

"Oh, just dandy." She couldn't miss the sarcasm in my voice... or so I thought.

"Good. I'd like to try a few more needles if that's okay."

I didn't say anything. I winced and waited. When would it come? Where would it strike? I realized suddenly, the only thing missing from this scene was ropes. Mind you, I could have told her to stop. I didn't even need a safe word. But I'd found something hard and competitive inside me that said, if a sub can do this for fun, I could certainly endure this for my own well-being. I resolved not to react, no matter how bad the pain. Folly, sheer folly.

The first needle was slipped into the right side of my lower back, just off the spine. I gritted my teeth, but said nothing. The second needle went in just under my ass on my right leg. Again, no reaction. I'm tough, dammit!. The third was inserted into the back of my right knee. I wailed like a banshee. Was she NUTS?

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"

"No, Attila. I'm just fine. I was worried about the damage the needle did to your table when it poked through the front of my knee."

Okay, I really didn't say that. But it wasn't because I was in subspace, I can assure you. No more needles, for now. We were done with that. It was time to twist and move the cups around. Jesus! People do this for FUN???

Out came the ur stick. It was some kind of burning stick. I didn't know what it was for, but she warned me before lighting it. Smoke filled the room. It smelled like the punk we used to light to set off fireworks on July Fourth. Then a burning sensation began in my lower back.

"Tell me if it gets too hot."

I might have too, but I was no longer speaking to her. It got hotter as she brought it closer.

"Are you okay?"

"Arrggggggggghhhhh."

"Good."

I considered her response. What could she possibly have thought I'd said? ARRRRRRIGHT?

The heat intensified. I didn't move. Son of a BITCH! Surely she'd have to stop now. Perhaps she would have, had I said it aloud. Then the pain shifted. She was using it on my hand. You remember... the one that resembled a pin cushion. More smoke. I don't like smoke. I was having trouble breathing. I was sweating and in pain. I tried to turn to look at her, but I couldn't get my head around far enough. I did manage to see the end of the needle sticking from my right shoulder. What was I doing here?

It wasn't over yet. It was time to rotate the needles. Turn and twist them. Take them out and poke the skin of the area. And I thought...OMG! I'm paying this woman. I'm paying this woman to cup and needle me. Do I actually have sub tendencies? It was certainly consensual. I AGREED to this torture.

By the time she let me up, I was thinking about my own strength and my own Domness, if I might coin a phrase. When I shook her hand to leave, I pictured her in a collar, kneeling at my feet. Oh what I was going to do to her by way of revenge. My smile was genuine.

"See you next week, same time?" she asked.

The image of the collar around her neck would not fade.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

I literally limped from the room and up the stairs. Next week, I won't react at all.