On the same note of “masochism as a reward, not a punishment,” thinking about a post-impact play scene where the sadist makes their masochist apologise… Like, sure, the masochist was beaten, but they’re not the only one who exerted themselves.
In fact, all they did was lie there, look pretty, and take it—their partner did all the work. The masochist is sprawled out, blissed-out, basking in the afterglow, while their diligent sadist is stuck stretching out the new knots in their muscles, equally breathless and sore after so many full-force, repetitive motions.
“Fuck, that hurt my arms,” they might say, “I put all my strength into that. My shoulders are gonna ache for the next week, and it’s all your fault,” and “Your bruises? Do you have any idea how much hitting your greedy ass makes my wrists sore? You should be thanking me, not complaining,” and “You’re so selfish. I worked up a sweat and I’m disgusting now—do something about it. Show me you’re sorry.”
Make them beg forgiveness for their wanton desires!! Make them prove they’re grateful!! Make them prove they deserve such kind indulgence again 🗣🗣🗣 !!!!!
They’re on their hands and knees, licking their sadist’s boots and powering through the endorphin crash to thank them for their generous service. A true masochist, the pain is its own reward—it doesn’t matter if they’re cold and shaking and nauseous; they’ll diligently pour their sadist a drink, massage their sore back as penance.
Their sadist is the one who deserves to be pampered and attended to after the session, not them, the wolfish painslut who demands more and more and more, forcing their partner to give until they feel each impact shatter their own bones. Their sadist is the one that pushes themself, running on fumes to satisfy a masochist who will take until there’s nothing left. So of course they have to be grateful. Of course they have to apologise. They can always rest once they’ve earned it again.
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