I am a very, very bad girl and I’m writing this after it’s technically due, but the submit link is still open, so I’m going for it. I feel like a naughty student trying to slip my homework assignment into the stack on my teacher’s desk in hopes that he’ll still accept it. [Shakes self free of fantasy] This Last week’s Kink of the Week topic was dirty talk.
Generally, when I think about the idea of dirty talk, I imagine a conversation like this:
“Oh, oh fuck me. Fuck my cunt.”
“Oh yes, you like my cock in your wet pussy don’t you, you filthy whore?”
I then proceed to be really not turned on after thinking about that.
See, for me, I’ve always struggled with what I want sex to be vs. what I thought sex was supposed to be. For about the first five years that I was having sex with males, I had a lot of very unsatisfactory sex and it included a lot of conversations like the one above. It was a sexual routine: I moaned the way that I thought it sounded right to moan and I tried to control my body when I was aroused. I think that my aroused face is stupid looking: it’s bright red and squirreled up looking (see also: many of my masturbation videos) and a lot of the time, I was more focused on trying to look good than trying to enjoy myself. That whole period of my sexual history seems very sad to me now. Fortunately, I let go of all that and embraced what turned me on. That meant that dirty talking went away pretty much entirely for a while. I got involved with Rafa, and our sex is best categorized by the word “affectionate.” The things we mutter to each other are intimate communications, gentle and passionate. Our sexuality continues to be that way, and I wouldn’t want it any other. That’s the beauty of poly: I have the ability to enjoy several different kinds of relationships at once.
When I finally came to embrace the combination of my spanking fetish and my sexuality, a form of dirty talking became incredibly important. The things that are said during a spanking scene are so significant to me. They’re arguably as important to me as the actual act itself: a scene which takes place in total silence would need to have a lot of emotional or erotic pretense in order to be enjoyable for me. No, I need to be talked to. “Go to your room.” “I’m going to punish you.” “You’re a naughty little girl.” “Pull your panties down, right now.” These phrases make me swoon. They make my heart pound and make me blush. The words “spanking” and “spank” are etched into me so deeply, that the sound of them anywhere, in any context makes my mind drop everything else it was thinking about and focus on that set of sounds. That hissing s, popping p, nose crinkling for the n, hard k sound. Other words that sound similar can trigger the same reaction in me. Spark. Banking.
I wonder if this is what it feels like to enjoy talking dirty, if the words that I used to say to the boys I used to sleep with turned them on this way, set forth some uncontrollable beast in their hearts the way that “I’m going to give you a spanking when we get home” does when whispered close to my ear in a public place, every nerve in my body standing at its fullest attention.
I like being told what will happen to me, and I like being reminded of what did happen, even if it just ended five minutes ago. I want to hear it said. I want details. I want the sound of Paul’s voice. Really, I could listen to him reading a list of numbers and enjoy it: I love his diction, his intonation. I knew his voice long before I ever heard it in person. I like to hear him say my name, reminding me that all of this is real and not some long fantasy I’ve been lost in. I want to be told that I’m his, hear words like “own” and “mine” and “belong.” I want to feel like he possesses me, and these simple words make that happen instantly.
Sometimes, I enjoy more traditional dirty talk now, if it’s in a context of power exchange. When I let go of the sexual pretenses that I had developed in my youth, I discovered a new coyness and almost timid attitude towards my sexual encounters when they’re in a D/s context. I became virginal again, unable to even bring myself to say these things aloud. It embarrasses me that someone as experienced as I am can feel this way, and that embarrassment fills me with its own arousal. Being made to ask for things in explicit terms (although not really horribly “dirty” ones, there’s a strict set of words that are and aren’t horny for me) has become very, very hot for me. The sound of my own voice, suddenly high with shyness, words having trouble fully forming, breathy and vulnerable, compared to the solid security that I hear in the notes of his represents everything that I feel. ❤︎
It’s been a long time since I wrote a “Kink of the Week” post. KOTW, in case you don’t know, is run by the blog Kink and Poly. It’s an open discussion where everyone is invited to write about their personal experiences, opinions, thoughts and fantasies relating to a particular kink. I used to write KOTW posts all the time when I was a more active blogger. After I stopped being able to put as much time into writing, KOTW went on hiatus for a while, but now, it’s back! There was one topic before this one that I missed (just because I didn’t have a lot to say on it) but now, there’s a topic that suits me extremely well and I’m excited to write about: school uniforms.
School Uniforms are one of the things in the world that I fetishize the most. It can be an important part of a spanking scene or fantasy to me, but I also enjoy wearing them on their own. Like I sometimes do, I’ve created this visual aid to describe my feelings towards spanking and school uniforms:
I’ve created a venn diagram which shows my interest in spanking and my interest in school uniforms, and how they overlap. I’ve scaled the the two circles in order to properly show the way they relate. While scenes involving school uniforms take up a fairly big chunk of my spanking fantasies and play, they certainly aren’t taking up anywhere near all of it. However, the bigger piece of my school uniform related activities involve spanking. It’s also scaled down because it’s less of a significant kink for me, although it’s still one of the most important ones for me.
Besides being something that I enjoy playing with a lot, school uniforms have been on my mind for a long time. Although I almost feel like I was born with an innate interest in spanking, I wasn’t interested in school scenes at all until I got to be a little older. My original fantasies were all domestic. The kind of schools that would later become my fantasies didn’t exist for me yet. I went to a very relaxed public school, where none of my teachers were stern or serious and I could not imagine corporal punishment being used there. We did not wear uniforms. I don’t remember when I even became aware of school uniforms, or when I began to desire to have them. I do, however, know that when I was still in elementary school, I had obtained my first school uniform, which I sometimes wore like regular clothes despite it not being required at my school. It was a navy blue jumper (pinafore) with a pleated skirt and a white blouse underneath. I absolutely loved it, but it made me feel strangely like I was being naughty or inappropriate when wearing it. Wearing it lead to all sorts of complicated fantasies about being sent away to a very stern and serious school where spankings were given out regularly!
My interest in everything school related only got stronger as I aged, and I played complicated school pretends, set myself play-homework assignments and imagined strict punishments for any failings on my part! It was sometime during this period of my life when I discovered Roald Dahl’s autobiography, Boy. Within a few minutes of picking up the book I had learned about caning, and my fantasy world was forever changed. Once the English school fantasy was introduced to my mind, it took over like an invasive species. It was instantly at the top of my mental food chain. A large part of the fantasy for me involved the uniform, and the specifics of it. Unlike the short and suggestive skirts that I often prefer to wear nowadays, I fantasized about a very conservative uniform with lots of details: special socks and panties, shiny black mary jane shoes, a plaid skirt, a starched white shirt with every possible button buttoned, a tie, a blazer with a fancy, heavily embroidered insignia, a hat. A large part of the fantasy was the aspect of having multiple girls in matching outfits. It felt like we were unified and all on the same team. I think it also appealed to a desire for a sense of equality with my peers, as I was a strange, outcast girl who sat alone on the edge of the playground reading books. In my fantasies, I was equals with every other girl in my school and was often a ringleader in creating trouble, although sometimes I instead was the teacher’s pet.
As I became a teenager and then a college student, my interest in this only intensified. I now had the means to actually buy the things that I wanted, and I had discovered both internet spanking videos and spanking story sites: Mary Catherine Whitney’s St. Francis School For Girls story series had a huge impact on me. She seems to share a lot of my feelings about uniforms, and reading her descriptions made my mind wander in all kinds of wonderful ways. I also began to have privacy in my life, and I experimented with simply wearing as complete of a school uniform as I could find for myself. It was different than it was when I was a child. My feelings had become much more intense and I had grown increasingly shy and private about my spanking/school girl fantasies. Dressing in school girl clothes had started to feel far more taboo. I couldn’t “get away with it” anymore. And as I got older and the clothing I wanted to wear stayed the same, I began to notice a gap between the age I wanted to pretend to be when “playing school” and the age that I actually was. I took comfort in this slightly regressive play. It felt safe and somehow made the fantasy stronger.
Now that I’m actually playing on an extremely regular basis, and have been for years, school uniforms haven’t lost any of their significance. These sorts of scenes can create a lot of different emotions for me, depending on which aspect of the kink they focus on. Here are some of the things that I enjoy about this kind of play.
Formality: There’s a difference, in my mind, between a caning given to me when I’m wearing regular clothing and one given when I’m in a school uniform. The second seems more formal, and in my mind it becomes inherently more severe. It’s also hotter. I find the feeling of formality and even austerity that comes into play in most of my school roleplay scenes exciting and yes, erotic. When someone is being cold and harsh with me, especially when he or she is also dressed formally, it makes my knees shake. These formal school scenes are the core of my school fantasy, and they’re made even better when I’m playing with someone like Paul who has excellent technique as a Top. It’s clean, calm and precise, but oh so painful. Call me by my last name. Touch me as little as possible to do what you have to do. Send me away when you’ve finished. Yes.
Vulnerability: Depending on my character or the intended age of my uniform, playing this way can make me feel much more vulnerable than the average scene. This is the age play aspect: when I’m dressed this way, I’m just a helpless young girl. My misbehavior might be small, my punishment might not even be that severe, but it’s a very big deal. I find myself reacting more to spankings when I’m in this headspace, crying easily and apologizing profusely. Sometimes, my vulnerable feeling can be met with the formal attitude, making both of them feel ten times stronger, but other times, in this mood, I want to be punished by someone who has more tender, personal feelings for me. This tends to lend itself well to roleplays where I’ve been sent home from school for something and I’m being punished at home (although still dressed for school) by a guardian figure.
Sexuality: I cannot lie: I find school uniforms sexy. I especially find other girls in school uniforms sexy. Especially if we’re wearing the same uniform. It makes me feel like we’re teenagers, and that we’re exploring our sexualities together. That which is meant to be common place is suddenly extremely erotic. I can’t keep my hands away from her white, cotton panties under her school skirt, and she has her hand slipped in between the buttons of my blouse… Oh my, I could go on. I have a particular fetish for sheds. I know this is weird. I like the idea of hiding out behind a building in an institutional setting, being someplace where we aren’t meant to be and having sexy things happen. Of course, we’re likely to get caught and severely punished for this sort of behavior, and that only adds to the excitement.Taboo: Sometimes, I want to do a school scene which is incredibly dark. I don’t want someone to be formal with me: I want them to be harsh with me. I want them to be cruel to me. I want to be shoved around and man handled. I don’t want to be spanked, I don’t want to be punished: I want to be beaten. I want my uniform stripped off me: if pulling my shirt makes the buttons come off, then I don’t care, I’ll sew them back later, maybe still in character, sitting alone and sniffling. I want this to happen to me for no reason at all, for me to be entirely innocent and not deserving of these horrible things. I often want these scenes to include sexual consensual non consent. It’s dark and awful, but I love it. I take delight in it. It makes me incredibly aroused. Part of this probably developed because a lot of things that used to feel taboo to me just don’t anymore. I can talk about spanking openly in the grocery store and not blush (getting a swat, however, still makes me horribly embarrassed, but that’s a different story). Darker stories like this give me that same sort of rush. Also, I only like to play this way with someone that I love and trust (so, pretty much, I only play this way with Paul, although there are a couple other people who I would play this way with). I’ve mentioned it before: there’s something really hot to me about pretending to dislike someone you actually adore in a scene. It let’s you become someone totally different, and let’s us do things we normally wouldn’t do.
Naughtiness and fun: When school roleplays involve other girls, they often end up being incredibly wild and wacky. We play off each other. We get into mischief. We pass notes. We make faces behind the teacher’s back. We do explicit hand gestures. It’s fun. I’ve spent so much of my kink life trying to be a good girl, and it’s a blast to entirely abandon any semblance of that and just soak up the enjoyment of being a bad little girl. My beloved friend, Bad Alex brings this out in me more than anyone else. Put us together and get us in uniforms and suddenly we’re whispering very rude things, or making “field trips” to the liquor store!
Camaraderie: It doesn’t matter how they all feel about each other or whose fault it was: when a group of girls is all in trouble, there’s a sense of camaraderie that can’t be denied. I *love* big, mutli-girl school scenes because of this. Like I mentioned before, once we’re in uniforms, we’re all peers. We’re all the same. It’s a unified group. And when one of us is in trouble, or worse, when all of us are, we feel for the other girls. In these sorts of scenes, I get to experience the emotional ride of getting in trouble and being punished over and over again as I live vicariously through my peers. We get to comfort one and other, holding hands while taking our discipline, maybe, or just sending empathetic glances. You know that your friends know how you feel.
Exhibitionism: I mentioned earlier that not all of my school uniform play is spanking play. Sometimes, I like to go out in public dressed in my school uniform. That’s the entirety of the scene: going to Target or a diner (or a liquor store) while dressed up like a school girl. It gives me a huge, exhibitionist rush. I wonder if people can tell that I’m an adult or not. I wonder how they feel about me. I wonder what they think I’m doing. I feel embarrassed, but also exhilarated. During our first vacation together, when we first started dating, Paul had me wear my full school uniform to breakfast at a restaurant with him. I lingered in the car for a moment before getting out, and hoped I wasn’t blushing too much as I walked in. The gusty wind that kept blowing my school skirt up didn’t help me to feel any better. I felt incredibly excited by the whole thing, though, and couldn’t stop squirming in my seat!
I’ll have to make a second post later describing all the kinds of uniforms that I like: fancy ones, plain ones, jumpers, skirts, summer dresses, PE kit, school shoes, school bags, notebooks, bows, insignias and much, much more. American ones, English ones, Japanese ones. You got to see a good sampling of them here, though, and there will surely be more to come!I hope you guys enjoyed this KOTW post. You can check out all the posts on the subject here:
Want to read my other KOTW posts? Check these ones out:
Punishment: The Real Kind
Punishment: The Fun Kind
Experiments with Bastinado
Protocol: Accepting the Concept, Enjoying the Reality
Understanding TicklingWelcome back KOTW! There will be many more in my future. 🙂
Last time that I posted, it was about my real-life punishment dynamics. This week’s KOTW (kink of the week) topic is Funishment, or play punishment. This a wonderfully related topic which allows me to continue on my previous train-of-thought. (Thanks, Jade!)
As I stated last post, I didn’t start out in the scene with any kind of dynamic that included play-punishment, or really, play spankings of any kind. Spankings were srs business only. When I started to play with my previous play partner, J, we never had any sort of disciplinary relationship, or any kind of power-exchange at all. It took a while for me to get used to this, at first. The spankings kind of just “happened.” I came over and we talked and cuddled, then he spanked me because he liked spanking girls and I wanted to be spanked. Afterwards, I would usually make him some kind of baked good, often without returning to my proper state of dress so he could watch me bob around his kitchen in an apron with my red, swollen bottom on display. It was a great tradition, and I loved those scenes, but it often left me feeling unfulfilled, like something was missing from the interaction that we had just had.
One day, I came over and J. suggested that we do a roleplay scene instead of our “usual.” I felt really hesitant about this. “I don’t even know how to do that,” I remember saying nervously. I had never done anything even vaguely like this before, and I was afraid that I’d somehow fail miserably at it and “ruin” the scene. J. coaxed me into it, suggesting that we play a scene in which my character had similar traits to the ones that I was expressing: nervousness and apprehension are by no means uncommon parts of a lot of spanking scenarios. So we decided to do a scene in which a girl who had never been spanked before was being punished afterschool by a teacher for consistently being late to class. Now, this scene seems so typical and almost unexciting, but at the time, my heart raced. I went into the other room, and we agreed that when I came back in, we’d begin playing.
I stood at the door with my hand on the knob, trying to channel my personal jitteriness into that which I felt belonged to my character. The scene was actually very similar to the things that I had fantasized about for a long time, so I knew how I expected it to go, but I couldn’t quite relax. I stood there waiting for a good five minutes before I came out. J. was sitting on the sofa wearing dress pants, a button-up shirt and a tie. I felt my stomach twitch when I saw his serious, annoyed looking facial expression.
“This meeting started five minutes ago, Alex,” he chided. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to be late to a discussion about your tardiness?”
I felt my face grow hot and I looked down at the ground, nervously twirling my hair and fiddling with a stray string on my dress. “Sorry,” was all I managed. I felt unsure about “how I was doing” as a roleplayer, but I felt very immersed in the scene, transfixed by J.’s tone.
J. continued to lecture me, being stern and giving plenty of details about the things that I had done. He was amazing at thinking things up on the fly, and I found myself responding easily and naturally. When it was time for the actual spanking, he pulled me over his lap forcefully and lifted my dress as I gasped and protested. I had never really protested against a spanking before. My attitude towards them had always been passivity, but here, it didn’t only feel acceptable to protest, it felt right. J. smacked the back of my leg, hard and corrected me for that sort of behavior and began to give me a flurry of hard spanks, scolding me about how I needed to get myself together and take things seriously instead of flitting around the school in a disorganized mess. It was actually during this spanking, as I was kicking and writhing and J. was pinning me down and punctuating his stern words with firm smacks that I realized what had been missing from my previous scenes with him: energy.
There’s a certain energy and drama and that comes from the dance of scolding and protesting that simply isn’t there in other kinds of spankings. Some atmospheres create a strong but different energy, like the reaffirmative spankings that I mentioned before, which focus on giving an intense reminder of each partner’s role in the dynamic, or spankings that are done for emotional release (“just because you need to be beaten”) or as a love act. I love these sorts of scenes, and I do enjoy having entirely arbitrary “just for the love of spanking” scenes now and again, too, but my mind draws itself back to punishment scenarios again and again and again.
J. and I had a successful first roleplay, and we began doing more and more scenes like that, sometimes following up on others which we had done earlier. Still, we played infrequently and mixed our previous “standard” play with the roleplay punishments, so I probably only did a total of ten roleplays before I moved.
Malignus and I never roleplayed together. In fact, we very rarely engaged in play-punishment of any kind, as I felt like I wasn’t being sufficiently submissive if I intentionally misbehaved, and he tended to respond to things like that with removal of attention instead of “feeding into it” by punishing the perpetrator. During this time I became very focused on the idea of being a good girl and being as submissive as possible, so when I went to my first spanking get together, I felt at a loss as the other girls ran around doing complex pranks. A friend who was similarly into being good and I made an attempt at hiding an implement at one point, but we ended up wussing out and returned it to it’s rightful place. I received no play punishment spankings at that party.
When I went to my first national spanking party later that year (TASSP), I was very nervous about how I was supposed to act. The first night, I found myself sitting with Pandora Blake on the floor of Joe and Ten’s suite, having a conversation about this. I expressed my concerns about not knowing how to “brat” and Pandora gave me suggestions based on her experience. We came to the conclusion that intentional misbehavior can’t be too annoying, can’t be actually malicious or damaging to people or things and should be clever and/or funny. With this in mind, we got a magic marker from somewhere and crawled over to where IMLX was seated and began drawing cats on the bottom of his bare foot. IMLX and I knew each other from the internet and I knew that he was good natured, so he seemed like a good candidate for our naughtiness. It took him a surprisingly long time to realize that cats were being drawn on his foot. I don’t know what that says about him as a person. 😛 When he did figure it out, he playfully spanked both of us, scolding us (including in Russian!) for being naughty, cat-on-foot-drawing girls. It was seriously playfully, and I was seriously pleased.
Overtime, I sort of grew into myself in this regard, and began to figure out ways to initiate playfully punitive scenes. Sometimes I planned roleplay scenarios with people that I liked. Other times, I just whined a little. This seemed to work wonders. 😛
My play punishment life took a turn for the “more frequent” when I became friends with Bad Alex. Why? Because Bad Alex is fucking Bad, and she’s amazingly good at it. Her mind is a machine that takes a simple idea and turns it into the most trouble possible. Besides being good at raising hell and getting herself spanked, she’s also magically able to get me into play-trouble to degrees that I’ve never known were possible. For example, at BBW she set things up so I got 16 strokes of the cane because she punched me in the knee. That’s talent right there. I’m still kinda reeling from that almost a year later.
Bad Alex and I like to roleplay together. While some of the roleplays that I do are dark and serious, the ones that include both the Alexes are always kind of off the wall. For example, at July’s Crimson Moon party, we played a scene with our friend Jon83 in which we were sisters who had been caught cutting school to go to the mall by our father. I really like roleplaying with Alex when we’re not even caught yet: we just banter back and forth as misbehaving girls and giggle an awful lot. When we came back to our hotel room (in the pretend, our home) after having snuck out of school, we were greeted by Jon, who was none to pleased with us. We then started to try to lie our way out of things. My lies were things like “We just ran home to get our books!” but Alex’s were things like “It’s National Alex Day! No one with our name is allowed at school! We have the day off!” This threw me into a fit of hysterics, and it reminded me of a detail that had never been discussed: we were supposed to be sisters of the same age with the same name. We made a series of jokes back and forth to each other as we tried to figure out why this was until Jon sent Bad Alex to the corner to separate us, pointing to her and saying “That one! Go to the corner!”
This was the only time in my life that I laughed while getting a hard paddling.
We’ve done other, really fun scenes since then, and we currently have a ridiculously fun roleplay in the planning stages. It involves us pretending to get kicked out of someplace and needing to be picked up by our angry authority figures, who will then scold us all the way home before punishing us quite severely. In a Fetlife conversation on the subject, Bad Alex stated that she had been DOING RESEARCH into ways that we could get into trouble there.When I first started playing with Paul, I had very conflicting feelings about play punishment. At that point in my life, I had never had a D/s relationship which included funishment: these had always been two separate things. Serious disciplinary and D/s relationships vs. fun play partners and Tops with whom I could do roleplays and non-serious, play punishment scenes. Because I felt a strong and very real sense of submission towards Paul (which I had been aware of from the very first time that we played) I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to try to engage in intentional naughtiness to earn fun spankings. It took a while before I realized that this was totally acceptable, helped along the way by the fact that Mila and I really started harassing each other in sisterly antics at that time and Paul happily took to scolding me for things like “internet hair pulling.”
By the time that we had our cabin visit my desire to play in this way exploded. Still keeping in mind the principles which Pandora and I had identified, I spent the whole time messing around. Sometimes when I wanted to be spanked (which was most of the time) I would just directly (although very coyly) ask for it. Usually, though, I expressed this want by doing slightly naughty things: climbing on the furniture when there was a sign that said I couldn’t, replacing the sign with another one which said I could, naming a chair after Mila and kicking it, opening a desk drawer while I was sitting on his lap at the desk, finding a piece of chalk and using it to draw on the back of his black shirt et cetera. Usually, these things were met with playful, often affectionate spankings that had the “you’re a naughty girl” type of attitude but were ultimately just-for-fun. They were hard enough, mind you, but I only ever felt enough like I was in trouble for it to be exciting, not to tap into that set of emotions discussed before.
Occasionally, these scenes were more physically severe. One day, after the chalk had been taken away, I opened the same drawer during the same sort of cuddle to find a few paperclips, which I clipped to Paul’s shirt collar. Seeming unamused (in a way that I could tell was not genuine displeasure) he called it “abuse of stationary”. I called this “bogus.” He produced a hairbrush. First, though, he pulled me over his lap on the sofa and spanked my bottom quite hard with his hand, then he moved on to smack the backs of my thighs. It was hard and thorough, and he was stern and strict with me. I was crying quite earnestly by the time that he had finished with my thighs, but he still continued to get the hairbrush and apply it quite effectively as well. I was a mess of tears when it was done, and in a certain way, I felt legitimately contrite, even though I hadn’t done anything. It was like I had the relief and security of having been punished without any of the most unenjoyable parts of it, as I knew Paul wasn’t actually disappointed in me for wasting paperclips. The spanking was followed with the same snuggles that would come after a real punishment spanking, and I was left feeling blissful and loved.
Now that we’re living together, play punishment is a rather big part of the daily routine that Paul and I have developed. Sometimes it’s a quick and lighthearted spanking for something like walking outside barefoot and getting leaves all over my feet (which was delivered in the backyard, by the way. Oh the embarrassment!) and other times it’s more emotionally intense and physically severe, like the paperclip scene. Still other times, we engage in roleplaying just-for-fun, but with a punishment scenario (such as a scene where when Paul went away to find something to spank me with, I hid in the other room’s closet and might have at least gotten away with it for a few minutes if my cat hadn’t sat himself down in front of the door and meowed loudly until Paul came and dragged me out).
Ultimately, play punishment is now up there with “reaffirmative” for my favorite day-to-day style of spanking. Besides just being fun, it also opens up the door to a lot of possibilities. For example, I feel horrible about myself if I don’t take a real punishment spanking well. If I protest, or move out of position, or make too big of a fuss I just feel terrible inside afterwards, like I didn’t properly atone for the original misdeed and I’m still being a disappointment (note: I’m not made to feel this way. It’s just residual insecurity). During a play punishment, though, I can happily enjoy thrashing around, resisting, protesting, shouting “No! No! No! No!” and otherwise doing everything in my power not to take my spanking well. It’s delightful to be overpowered, to have my protests fall on deaf ears and to be MADE to take the rest of it. It’s also wonderfully exciting to play with non-consensual themes during roleplay which I obviously wouldn’t be exploring in any other way. There’s something invigorating and yes, sexy (gasp!) about that. ♥
Well, my plan to write more has been working to some extent. I’ve been working on a kind of big “theory” post that deals with a concept that I’ve been struggling with for some time. As such, it’s hard to get through the writing. I keep going back and forth on what I want to say.
Because of this, I haven’t had a full post for you since the last Kink of the Week (le sigh!) but I can promise an interesting one soon. Not that KOTW isn’t interesting.
So, onto the post!
The KOTW topic this week is tickling.
I’ve always had a very neutral feeling towards tickling. I’m rather ticklish, but I don’t particularly dislike being tickled. As a child, I found tickling to be a pleasant interaction, although I grew up in a family where that was considered a bit too much physical contact to be appropriate. As I grew up, it sort of stopped being something that I thought of very often.
From time to time I meet people in the scene who sort of roll their eyes at my spanking fetish.
“Spanking? Really? That’s hardly even kinky. That’s so childish. That doesn’t even hurt,” they say. Then I get all kinds of flustered and annoyed and defensive. Let me tell you a long list of reasons why your wrong. But this hardly matters, because the person with this opinion just doesn’t “get” spanking or understand what it means to be a spanko, so they can’t really be convinced.
In the process of brainstorming for this post, I discovered that my feelings towards tickling were quite similar to the feelings that I hated having directed towards spanking.
In my mind, tickling is a tender, playful interaction that doesn’t feel kinky to me. There’s something that seems sort of unappealingly childish about it to me (and I’m sitting at my very small desk dressed in my fuzzy nightshirt which is printed with cartoon owls and a pair of Hello Kitty panties with my hair in pigtails, typing this on my sticker-covered laptop). I decided that these feelings aren’t really fair for me to have, and they certainly aren’t very educated.
I decided to start looking at some Tickling sites to learn a little bit more about it. A lot of them presented tickling in a way sort of similarly to the way I was imagining it: two girl-next-door types gently rough-housing and tickling each other in their lingerie, sometimes using colorful feathers. The presence of the feathers connected it to something else in my mind: “sensation play.”I originally thought that sensation play was a pretty milquetoast idea, as well. This was during a period of my life when I was very focused on submission as being challenging and where I frequently intentionally denied myself the enjoyable side of things like spanking. The idea of “things which feel nice” seemed, well, lame to me. Later on, I started to break down the barriers between things being “nice” and things being “kinky” and I discovered that I like quite a lot of sensation play. I like the feeling of something cold being placed on my bottom after a spanking, or the startle of it touching me on my unaffected skin. I like soft materials on my body and especially on skin that’s sore. I like the feeling of pressure as something weighted is pressed against me. I like focusing only on my body, and making my world very small, and sensation play lends itself to that very well. Just as pain is a focusing device, so can be any sort of touch. I often find gentle touches with a single finger being run slowly over my body to be some of the most erotic. This motion when repeated over and over can become a slow tickling sensation. I can see how this would be enjoyable, positive and nice.
But tickling fetishists don’t always think that tickling is nice, right? Sometimes tickling is a torture. I think the primary reason that I can’t imagine tickling as being particularly kinky is because I’ve always had tickling stop before I even got particularly tired of it. I’ve never been held down, restrained and tickled until I wanted it to be over. I know that many people enjoy combining tickling with bondage, and I can imagine the point where anything becomes unbearable and apply that to tickling to create a scenario which is not unlike the point in a spanking where I feel like it’s difficult to endure it any longer. This is the place where submission is required, where I have to focus on passivity and give myself over to the spanking. I can imagine that tickling can come to require a similar kind of submission.
Then there’s the idea of tickling as being a rougher, harsher activity. If you tickle someone with your nails, for example, that somewhere between tickling and scratching. If you use a rough or abrasive motion, especially on the tender parts of the body, tickling can be strangely painful. Once or twice, Malignus “tickled” me in a method that he calls “deep tissue tickling.” I don’t fully understand what he did, but I think it combined massage techniques with tickling motions to create a sensation that was similarly invasive to the pain that I felt when we experimented with bastinado. It felt like there was a creature loose inside my body, or sometimes, like I was being stabbed. It was so invasive feeling that I wasn’t able to be submissive towards the feeling. Again, we didn’t do much of this. 😛
So, at the end of the day, I can see the appeal, I think. I’ve certainly found a new appreciation for why it might be enjoyable and how I could possibly relate to what a tickling fetishist enjoys. I’m glad that I explored this because I don’t like not understanding something, and I hate to think that I’m not giving something a fair shot in my mind.
As always, I’m open to questions and comments.
I promise that there’ll be a post with spanking in it very soon. ♥
I did one “Kink of the Week” post during the summer, and since then, I haven’t participated.
This is just because I was having a hard enough time keeping up with my regular posting, let alone try to add in something with a *gasp* deadline!
For those of you who don’t know, Kink of the Week (or KOTW) is a feature on my friend Jade’s blog. Every week, she posts a particular “kink” as the theme. These things are sometimes activities, materials, practices, ideas et cetera that a person might fetishize or enjoy as part of their kink play. She then invites other bloggers to write up their opinion, interests, ideas or “take” on this topic. Everyone’s links are posted to the KOTW page, so readers can get a variety of opinions on one topic.
It’s a bit hard for me to write these posts sometimes because I see my kink play as being fairly limited because my fetishistic interests are pretty straight forward compared to some people. That said, I have dabbled in a lot of things and I do have thoughts on basically everything. That’s the beauty of having a brain, isn’t it? 😛 More importantly, I like the *idea* of KOTW. I like having a variety of minds come together and describe their thoughts and feelings. I like the fact that instead of it being a thread on a forum somewhere or a place where you can comment on her blog, Jade allows us each to showcase our own work. We write and format our posts in the style that’s natural and comfortable for us, and we do it in our own spaces on the internet. When we invite others to read our KOTW posts, it draws attention to each person’s blog or site and allows us to find people whose thoughts and words are powerful and important but who we would not normally encounter.
For these reasons, I’ve decided that I’m going to try to make myself write about the KOTW topic each and every week, though, even when the kink is something that I don’t fetishize or usually practice. I don’t know how much I’ll have to say about these topics, or how great my post will be, but we’ll try it.
Relatedly, this week’s topic is Bastinado.
Bastinado isn’t something that I’ve ever fantasized about. I think this is probably because even though it’s a traditional form of corporal punishment, it’s very removed from the domestic/institutional corporal punishment base of my fantasies. It feels darker, to me, but it doesn’t fit with the dark parts which draw me in. In general, the basis of my darker interests is always a change in theme or intensity, not a change in the style of play. Then there’s the fact that my feet are very sensitive and because I’m very clumsy, I’ve injured them a lot of times. There’s nothing particularly exciting about a sensation that I associate with accidentally hurting myself.
Still, I’ve experimented with getting hit on the feet on two different occasions. The first was during the very start of my relationship with Malignus. During the time that we first started sceneing together, we tried a lot of things that I had never done before, many of which we would never do again, just for the sake of experimentation and new experiences. One day, while we were hanging out in his living room (this was before we lived together), he grabbed my foot and applied a sharp smack to the bottom of it with a wooden spoon. I found the sensation of this to be something which I can only describe with one word: “invasive.” I don’t mean that it was invasive to my personal comfort zone that he did that or anything like that. I found the pain to be invading my body in a way that I’d never experienced. Because the hurting traveled up the body of my foot, the feeling seemed more akin to a foreign object entering me in a place where it wasn’t meant to than just feeling sore. I thrashed around, trying to shake the feeling out of my foot. This kind of sensation made me very uncomfortable and almost a little disturbed, like some shockwave of hurt was wiggling around in my body.
We never did that again.
I’ve mentioned this idea before, but I always find it very humbling when I play around in a kink other than my own. I can get to feeling very tough indeed when it comes to taking spankings. I can have a very high tolerance (I say “can” because in a vulnerable situation my tolerance is laughably low). It almost fills me with awe at how much things hurt me that *aren’t* on my bottom or thighs, and my bastinado play experiments are a good example of that. Still, I think that when I want that feeling of being shocked by how painful something is, I think I’ll stick to something that I find thematically more interesting (like my hands). ♥