My bottoming experiences left scars.

The physical ones are minor. A bruise over my nipple that hasn't faded in two and a half years. A couple of places that are less sensitive than they should be.

The risk with playing these high-risk games is that when it goes bad, it can go bad all at once. The top literally has your life in their hands, and it can be difficult not to panic.

Sometimes, the wounds I acquired were the reopening of old, festering scars. A discovery of how I really felt about my father. Reliving memories of nights that felt like burning brands and smelled like white-hot iron.