#Pervember 12: Hair Pulling

That’s it. Grab it, a good handful now. Twist it round your fist. Control me. Hurt me.

Hair-pulling is one of those things that I mostly have to indulge in through fantasy more than practice, because there’s too much of a risk that I’ll dislocate, or subluxate or strain something, which would take all the pleasure out of it very quickly.

Kinky play always requires some kind of risk assessment – whether that’s ‘how to hold the wax candle without burning myself?’ or ‘do we have safety shears to hand?’ or ‘are my partner and/or I too emotionally raw to get into this right now?’. When you have a disability, the risk factors may be increased. In my case, with H-type Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, I am very flexible but pretty fragile, so sudden sharp movements – especially twisting or pulling – can cause things to get displaced. And while I’m a dedicated and enthusiastic painslut, there are some kinds of pain that are just no fun at all. Like a trapped nerve. Fucking ouch.

All of which is terribly disappointing, because I love my head to be held up and back while I’m on all fours being fucked hard from behind.

I want to be dragged across the room by firm fistfuls of my hair and thrown roughly against the wall.

I want to be yanked from my knees to the floor and pinned there while crude, forceful words of ownership and punishment and lust are growled at me.

I yearn to have my ponytail used as a handle to turn my head forcibly to look at my master when I’m being bratty.

However. About the only kind of hair-pulling I can safely allow is the kind that occurs when I’m on my knees with a faceful of cock or cunt, my partner using handfuls of my hair to hold my head steady as they thrust or grind. Rather than moving my head around by the hair, this lets me brace my muscles and protect my joints, especially the top of my ridiculously floppy spine. The ache in my scalp, the restriction of movement, the submission and vulnerability of having part of me used ‘against’ myself for the enjoyment of another – goddamn, yeah. Delicious.

Ah well. I might not be able to have my hair pulled as much as I want, but I can hold my feet to my ears, get my entire fist into my mouth and wriggle out of joint locks. Silver linings, and all that!