Warning: this post contains images taken after some of my hardest scenes. They include significant bruising, welting, broken skin and sometimes wet blood. The second post in this series (coming soon) does not include images or anecdotal discussion and focuses more on the concepts behind Heavy Play. I don’t recommend this post to those that are squeamish (Not Safe For Erica!). I do hope that lots of people read the other post, because I think the information contained within it is important.
When I first started getting spanked, I had no perception of how hard my playing was. SF, my first Top, also spanked his wife, Audiens, and my friend, V. Between the three of us, I was the one who he spanked the least severely. He and his wife were obviously playing on a totally different level, and V. was always very interested in pushing limits and trying new things, which I felt no need for any of that. I never compared myself to either Audiens or V. in terms of the way we played with SF. It didn’t matter to me. We were all different, so we played in different ways. The kind of playing that I was doing was satisfying to me at the time and that was all that mattered. I watched spanking videos pretty regularly, but I didn’t compare myself to those girls, either, because in a certain way they didn’t seem real to me. Comparing myself to a video would be like comparing what I actually did in real life to what happened in my fantasies in terms of severity. It didn’t make sense to me to do that, so I didn’t.
My perception of a scale of how hard my play was compared to other people developed pretty instantly when I got on Fetlife. Suddenly, I was aware of the way that a lot of different people got spanked. I saw photos of other girls’ spanked bottoms, some red, some pink, some with bruises, others welted. I had no photos of my spanked bottom. I had never taken one. But I started to compare my memory of my bruised bottom to what I saw in these pictures. I must have been getting spanked much harder than so-and-so, I thought, because I look much more reddened after a spanking than she does there. Other times, I saw welts and bruises and thought I’ve never been spanked that hard. I didn’t yet know that everyone shows marking differently, and that the longer you play, the less you color and bruise. I just thought that there was a scale: light pink meant hardly spanked. Deep purple meant the most severe.
It was literally the first day that I was on Fetlife that I started comparing myself to others in terms of severity of play. Right away, I had it in my mind that it was best to be a harder player. I don’t know what made me think that, but I absolutely did. The harder you got spanked, the more marked you were, the longer your scenes were, the more severe your implements, then the better. I used to follow someone on Fetlife who just posted picture after picture of extremely severe spankings which he had given. His gallery was just a row of butt shot after butt shot, each with the same background, each with similar purple bruising, “bullseye” marks and uniform bright redness. I didn’t feel any sort of connection with the person who gave these spankings, and I didn’t like the way that he seemed to objectify the girls that he had spanked but I felt terribly intrigued by the images. In my mind, they were some of the “best spankings.” I looked at them over and over. I’d previously felt entirely satisfied with a long, hard, over-the-knee hand spanking which left my bottom looking bright red and often bruised me the next day, and which would nearly always reduce me to tears. Once I started to compare myself to others, once I started to focus on hard play as a goal, that suddenly seemed far from impressive to me.
When I started to actually talk to people in the scene, it got even worse. There was something so intoxicating about the way that people talked about really severe scenes. They obviously loved them. At the time that my submission was first crystalizing, I heard a lot of stories of very hard play. The two Tops that I talked to the most at that point were both sadists who had done some very, very extreme play. They sometimes described scenes that I would never actually want for myself (scenes that involved intentionally going far beyond the point of broken skin, for example, or which were entirely unrelated to spanking but very intense) and made it sound like they were so proud of those girls and that they earned lots of love and attention by doing them (I was at a point in my development where the idea of needing to earn love and attention seemed acceptable). Some people talked about it like it WAS a contest: one Top referred to the girl with whom he had played the most severely as being the “Gold Medal Winner.” Even though I wasn’t interested in doing the things those girls had done, I found myself feeling jealous when I heard about them. Maybe I was jealous that they were the favorite one. Maybe I was jealous because they were able to enjoy something that I knew I never would do. It was a confusing emotion: being jealous of someone for having done something that you didn’t want to do.
By the time that Malignus and I first met, I hadn’t been seriously spanked in probably six months or so. It hadn’t been so bad to not be getting spanked when I was deeply immersed in vanilla life, but when I was exploring the scene, it had become agonizing. What I wanted was to be spanked very, very hard, very, very often. I by no means think that this desire wasn’t genuine, or that it was a bad thing. It’s just what I was focused on then. If you were to ask me to describe what I wanted from any given scene in one word, I would have picked “intensity.”
My first few scenes that fell into that category left me incredibly marked:
There’s another photo which I’m not going to post. Do you remember when I was giving tips about how to care for your bottom after a spanking a long time ago? I mentioned that you should not exfoliate, even using a wiping motion with a washcloth, directly after a scene or else all your skin will come off. This photo shows that phenomenon. You probably don’t want to see that.
Anyway, I eventually reached a point where hard play didn’t really mark me very much. It primarily just broke my skin, if anything. This meant that light and moderate play didn’t mark me at all, which became an asset to me when I began doing video work but was rather disappointing when I finished a scene that I felt had been severe and I wanted to share that with people but my bottom and thighs just looked like a light, rosy pink. There were other consequences from my hard play, though. For one, I got so used to heavy play that I could hardly enjoy light play anymore. This was caused by a combination of factors: for one thing, I think that a lot of my nerve endings just died and I hardly felt spankings anymore. For another, my skin had hardened and gotten leathery: this is why I got so involved in figuring out ways to restore my skin to it’s ideal state (which I’m happy to say isn’t a problem anymore). Things just hurt less the longer I engaged in hard play, especially hard play without warmups and cool downs (which was almost always what Malignus and I did).
My scale changed, too. Before, I only needed a hand spanking to bring me to tears. A hairbrush spanking on the backs of my thighs was the worst consensual pain I’d ever felt. That scale was very small, so a hard hand spanking that might include the backs of my legs was very close to the hardest thing I had ever felt. Once I began playing in very severe ways, that same spanking hardly meant anything to me anymore. It was the difference between 3 and 10 and 3 and 100. In the second case, 3 actually becomes quite insignificant seeming.
My emotional stance on things changed, too. My feelings about severe play and intimacy got kind of mixed up. Presently, I find that severe play is often extremely intimate, but is not inherently so. I also find that a huge spectrum of other activities can be similar expressions of intimacy. None the less, there was a period of time where I really only felt like I was making an emotionally intimate connection with my partner if it was being done through very severe scenes. I think part of this comes from the fact that at the time, I was in a relationship which was much less tactile than what I now know I really require to thrive. The connection that I felt during the severe play fed my hunger for all sorts of physical connection, but because it was one of the only things which really did, an excessive emphasis on this was placed in my mind. A tender hand-spanking didn’t leave me feeling fulfilled, it left me anxiously wondering why I wasn’t getting more than that.
So, for all these reasons, I was particularly caught up in playing very hard. When I first started to go to parties, I sought out scenes that would be similarly severe whenever I could, even if I didn’t have any sort of connection with the Top. Over the past year or so of our relationship, my play relationship with my ex went largely into decline. Things changed between us. This lead to much more infrequent scenes. My interest in finding other play partners who would push me past my limits was intensified. I don’t know if it’s even accurate to say “push me past my limits” because I stopped really having a sense of what my personal physical limits were. I wanted to be pushed past the limits that I perceived existed for others. I wanted to be pushed past “the” limit.
The decline in how often and how hard I was playing at home (and, admittedly, how much time I actually spent at home as I began to live out of my suitcase since there wasn’t any work in my field in South Dakota) lead to a number of changes. I regained my physical sensitivity. I got away from my tunnel vision which focused on severity and intensity as the important factors in play. I treated my skin so it was no longer calloused, nor was it at risk of becoming so again. Spankings became more physically painful for me, and I often made myself more emotionally vulnerable to them. This meant that I had stronger reactions to lesser scenes. I slowly worked my way back to a place similar to where I had started: where it didn’t take all that much to leave me feeling satisfied.
The beauty of having gone through this journey is that I now have the best of both worlds. I can play hard. Very hard. Sometimes, I am tremendously gratified by doing very severe, incredibly intense scenes. They mean a lot to me. They give me an exhilarating and unforgettable experience. The difference is that now, I don’t need to play that hard. There have been several times recently where Paul made me cry just by giving me a hard spanking by hand. That feels right to me. It makes me feel incredibly vulnerable to be able to let an experience that’s so core to my kink, but which had previously become less potent for me, entirely overtake me.
I’m not sure what happened to my competitive nature. It certainly still exists in a number of other facets of my life, and I’m still obviously insecure about a lot of things but when it comes to spankings, I don’t feel the need to prove myself anymore. There are bottoms out there taking things that are much more severe than anything I’ve ever taken. When I see photos of it, or read about it on blogs, I feel glad that they’re exploring things that interest them and sometimes a little bit concerned, if the practices don’t seem safe to me, but that’s all. When I read some of my own, older blog posts, I can see the way that I’ve changed in this department and I like it.
Because I’ve had (and continue to have) quite a bit of first hand experience with harder play, at some point in the near future, I’m going to be posting a set of notes with suggestions regarding things to consider when playing to a high level of physical intensity. I hope that at least a few people will find them useful.
Now, it’s time for me to go play Pokemon until I fall asleep. ♥
edited for gramatical improvement.
Friday night was a very good night. Everyone enjoyed each other’s company, and for the first time ever, I got to go to sleep next to ellee and YS. He slept in the middle, and a few times in the night I woke up and turned over to see him sleeping next to me, only to become so excited about this fact that I found it hard to get back to sleep. While this sounds kind of cute when I retell it, it wasn’t very practical.
As is usual for me, I woke up feeling slow moving and like it would have been very easy to become cranky. It was like, 9:30 in the morning when ellee and YS got out of bed, and I considered trying to just resist the entire morning thing and just keep lying there. I’m not sure if ellee did what she did next intentionally, having assumed that this would be the case based on her twinly abilities, or just because she wanted to, but she turned to YS and said “I know a certain Alex and ellee who did not get bedtime spankings last night.” This was my fault: I had gone to bed earlier than the rest of them which had put a kink in the bedtime spanking routine. YS responded to this the way that any reasonable spanking man would: by giving us wake up spankings instead.
Wake up spankings used to seem like an inhumanly cruel idea to me. When Malignus first suggested them to me as a possibility when I was planning my first visit to his place in South Dakota ages and ages ago, I was originally pretty resistant. If I hate being awake in the morning in the first place, why in the name of Science would I want to find myself getting whacked repeatedly before I had even come to my senses? I agreed to give it a try, though, and found it to be very different than I imagined. See, spankings create adrenaline Adrenaline is the opposite of sleepiness. Spankings also create endorphins. Endorphins are the opposite of grumpiness. I soon discovered that a wake-up spanking was the easiest way for me to transition from sleepytime to the land of the living, and I’m always appreciative when I get them.
YS set ellee and I up side by side and on the bed and spanked us with his hand, giving each of us a few spanks and then moving on to the next adorable, semi-undressed girl that he happened to have in his bed (YS is sometimes referred to as “The Lucky Bastard”). My mood and perkiness improved greatly as the spanking went on, and ellee and I held hands and sort of snuggled while getting spanked as we are known to do. After a bit, YS stopped and went over to some of his luggage.
“What are you doing?” ellee asked.
“I’m looking for some lotion,” YS told her.
“Oh, I have that right here!” she volunteered helpfully. YS turned around and approached us with a London Tanner’s spanking strop.
“I lied. I wasn’t looking for lotion. Lay back down.”
(♥ I love that kind of stuff)
We both got back into position and he continued to spank us with the strap, making us both produce our own distinctive vocalizations. ellee sounds much happier than I do when she gets spanked: she sort of chirps and purrs and makes all sorts of adorable and energetic sounds. I just produce a varying level of gasps, whines, wails and, eventually, sobbing sounds. Just as I don’t fake orgasms, though, I never manufacture these reactions in my personal play. If a spanking doesn’t hurt, I don’t respond vocally. If it does, I generally don’t hold back (although there are situations where some amount of holding back is appropriate). This morning, I was a bit whimpery, and crying out a bit, but still obviously very happy with the strapping I was receiving.
|Post spanking coziness|
Once we’d both been thoroughly spanked, we somehow ended up getting even further undressed for a bit. Then we finally got dressed and went out to get ellee some makeup products which she had forgotten. After that expedition where YS also bought us candy and gave us each the occasional stray swat right in the middle of the mall, which I’m not used to at all and which made me blush ferociously, we ate a delicious breakfast then went to finish getting ready for the day. After I got out of the shower, YS directed me to the ironing board which was set up in the corner of the room. He showed me which shirt he wanted to wear that day and asked me to iron it, and to use the lint roller on it and also the pants that he was going to be wearing. This filled me with submissive bliss, as it was the first time I had ever had a chance to do a service-type task for YS (although I had made him sandwiches and things like that before our D/s dynamic started). I decided that for full effect, I had better do my ironing naked. (Dear Prestigious Women’s College from which I graduated: there, there. It’ll be alright.)
YS was pleased with my work and we both got dressed for the day. I asked YS if he wanted to pick out my panties for the day, which was something that would never have happened in any of my other D/s dynamics, but which felt VERY right in this case. He selected a gray, cotton pair that were cute and matched my outfit well (I actually happen to be wearing them RIGHT NOW). As soon as we finished this, he decided that he was going to spank me with my new hairbrush. He had purchased me a Mason Pearson hairbrush off of my amazon wishlist a little while ago as a thank you gift for being such a good girl (awwwww).
|Some hairbrush related photos which I took for YS when it first arrived.|
I had wanted a Mason-Pearson hairbrush because I had read about them in spanking stories for a long time, and they seemed both classy and mean. They’re plastic, in case anyone doesn’t already know, so I was not entirely sure how much it would actually hurt. I went over YS’s lap again to find out.
It hurt. Specifically, it stung. I could have probably deduced this, since it was a firm but lightweight material. YS was able to get a good rhythm and motion going with it, and my bottom began to be overwhelmed with buzzing, burning, inescapable sting. I put my effort into not resisting, but I made quite a bit of noise. YS wrapped his other arm around my waist while he spanked me, going on and on with no end in sight. It built and built, but because of the nature of the implement, never descended into the gratification of thud, even when he started to give me harder swats. It just stung more. I had wanted to cry during the first spanking that YS had given me the day before, but I was too busy being happy and floaty. This implement was very good for that: it kept me very present and aware, but because of the emotional connection created by having had the implement purchased for me by my Dom, I felt very, very submissive. As both the pain and the submission increased, I started to make sobbing sounds. I didn’t have a full out, proper cry, but I wailed and let go and a few tears came out. YS continued spanking me for however much longer he felt like, and then pulled me up for hugs tiem. It was perfect.
The rest of the day was very nice and it involved lots of fun times with various friends, as well as a few other scenes here and there and a complex and unusual prank involving a burrito which was maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I laughed so hard that tears literally rolled down my face. The most significant thing which occurred during the rest of that day, in my mind, was what I have been referring to when chatting to friends as “The Bear Story.”
Right before we went to pick up YS and ellee, Lily Starr brought me into her room and gave me a present. It was an adorable brown teddy bear with a big, teal bow. As soon as I picked it up, though, I discovered that it was different than other bears. It’s full of lavender and some kind of beans, and it can be put in the microwave to heat it up before cuddling. It’s amazing! It’s also really fun to play with because it’s weighted and kind of heavy. I had a lot of fun swinging it around by it’s various limbs. Lily then gave ellee a matching bear, which made things EVEN MORE PERFECT. Do you know why they make more than one of cute things? It’s EXCLUSIVELY so that ellee and I can have matching ones. Aren’t you glad I’ve explained that? I knew people were probably wondering. 😛
Unfortunately, this bear caused me a little problem. In addition to enjoying swinging it around, I really, really enjoyed whacking my friends with the bear. I know, I know, this is the most childish thing ever, but it was REALLY satisfying and I REALLY couldn’t stop myself. Now, sometime before the party, I had called ellee to talk about a few things and the topic of people who I sometimes want to punch came up. The conversation had gone something like this:
Me: There are people in the world who I really want to punch, but I probably can’t. 🙁
ellee: Oh! YS is here! Let me ask him!
ellee (to her husband): YS? Can Alex punch someone if they’re really horrible?
YS (super stern): No.
YS (loudly, so that I can hear through the phone) Alex, you can’t punch people unless they punch you first or they’re trying to rape you.
Me: Harumph, yes, Sir.
That’s the problem with Doms. They’re always making all these rules that prevent me from punching people in the face, or getting hit by cars, or dying in a fire and they go around making sure that I get proper sleep and take care of myself and don’t get arrested. (Thank you, Malignus and YS! I love you!)
Anyway, it had been clearly established before the party that I was not to non-consensually assault people. Really, this is also basically just common sense, and also part of my rules from Malignus, so there’s no excuse for any of this.
But this bear. It was SO GOOD for whacking your friends with. I had done it a little bit without anyone saying anything, but on Saturday afternoon in Beth/Heather/Missy/Stacey/Jules/possibly more people(?)’s suite, I got to swinging the bear around and hit both ellee and Heather. Heather, being a boss of me, wasn’t going to take any bear-smacking, so she grabbed me by the arm and marched me into a corner. My reaction was instinctual, if not entirely logical.
“YS!” I yelled. “Help! Heather’s being mean to me!” YS gave a response about how he was not going to interfere with other people’s dynamics while I stood there with my face in a kind of oddly smelling curtain. Then, I guess either ellee or Heather explained to him why, exactly, I was standing with my face in a kind of oddly smelling curtain.
“Alex!” he scolded. “Did you hit her with your bear?”
“No,” I said, without any understanding of why that word was coming out of my mouth.
“Are you really going to lie to me about this?” he asked.
“…I meant no, I did do it.”
Even though that made absolutely no sense, YS seemed to accept that answer.
Still, he added, “We’re going to have to have a discussion about this later, I think.” I gave a resigned “Yes, Sir,” and returned my face to the corner.
“Oh no, are you mad?” ellee asked, concerned about me, because ellee is the sweetest friend ever.
“No,” YS, consoled her, “I’m not mad. All this means is that Alex is going to get spanked later, which is the whole reason that we’re at this party.”
The promise of being spanked for it later sent a little shiver down my spine, even though I was in an environment where there was zero risk of not getting spanked, and I remained in the corner until Heather decided to let me out.
I rejoined the party and continued to have a nice time. Then, less than an hour later, I was sitting on the couch with ellee, YS and the same bear. ellee said something silly or teasing, and I responded by sort of tossing the bear at her head.
“She just hit me with her bear!” ellee said with shock.
“Okay,” was all the YS had to say about this. What he had to say wasn’t the important part, though. What he did was stand up, grab me by the wrist and lead me to a bar stool at the front of the room. I felt a surge of nervousness. While I was fully aware as soon as the bear-tossing had occurred that I’d probably be spanked for it, it hadn’t occurred to me that it would be done right there, right then in front of everyone. The offense of throwing around bears wasn’t particularly serious, but this was also the first time that I was getting a chastisement style spanking from YS since our dynamic began. He had given me an #offchartbossing “punishment” spanking during the second cabin party, which I described as this:
When ellee and YS arrived, we exchanged some presents that we had collected for each other, because we’re the kind of besties who get each other cute things. ellee is really good at buying presents. I was overjoyed. In the middle of mini-Christmas, though, YS came into the room with an implement and a semi-serious look on his face. Heather, ellee, YS and -lostkitten had carpooled from the airport together, and they had taken longer than I determined acceptable, so I got a little beyond my bounds and sent a text to Heather scolding YS for getting everyone lost and taking too long. This was about to catch up to me in the form of my first spanking of the party. My sense of self preservation must not have been unpacked yet, though, because when he said “You got a little mouthy there, Alex” I responded with “My mouth was not involved! I was texting!”
Surprisingly, this did not save me, and I got ten firm swats, followed by a very nice hug and more presents. Have I mentioned that YS and ellee are pretty much my favorite people ever to live? Yes. That.
What happened this time was not ten firm swats, followed by a very nice hug and more presents.
YS instructed me to bend over the barstool and he lifted my skirt. Then he asked whose toy bag was on the table. It belonged to StrictDave, and he happily offered the use of his implements. I could hear the distinctive sound of wooden things clattering against each other, to which I have a Pavlovian fear response. I instinctively looked back to see what had been selected.
“Don’t look back,” YS chided. “Just keep your face forward, hold still and be a good girl.”
I did my best to do that. YS wrapped his free arm around my waist and began to spank me harder than he had ever before. The spanking was at a rapid pace and, from what I could gather, was with a wooden implement with a short range and a spanking surface about the size of my fist. It was the kind of hurt that burns and buzzes and very quickly overwhelms me, and I am pretty sure that I made pathetic vocalization for basically the entire thing. I don’t remember YS saying anything to me throughout: no scolding or coaxing, just the constant presence of his other arm. That made me feel very Dominated: it was stable, secure, strong and unyielding. These are all important aspects of Dominance to me, and this non-verbal communication had a potent effect. I soon began to cry and apologize, entirely unaware of the fact that there were people around me. My entire world consisted of me, YS, the barstool I was leaning on, whatever implement he was using and an inescapable, undeniable, constant pain.
The last time that someone attempted to correct me in a public party setting I felt extremely insecure about being observed in such an intimate act, even though it was much less serious and less intimate than this, and I fell into a panicked and upset state and prematurely ended the scene. This time, I was entirely comfortable and entirely unaware of anyone else. It helped that no one interacted with us in a disruptive manner: no suggestions were made, no one announced when I began to cry et cetera. It just happened, and it was perfectly natural. Finally, he finished and wrapped me in a hug. After I regained my calm, I got some ellee hugs as well (apparently her spanking empathy is so strong that she was almost crying watching me, and I assured her that I was not only fine, but I felt very loved and well taken care of).
|Quite soundly spanked.|
YS sat back down on the couch and I climbed onto his lap and put my head on his shoulder. He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead.
“You’re a very good girl still,” he assured me, “but no more assault, even in jest.” I melted into him a bit more.
“Yes, Sir,” I answered, my voice hardly above whispering, “thank you for correcting me.” ♥
I later discovered that the implement I was spanked with is an incredibly evil hairbrush which should probably not exist. It’s that big type of hairbrush which is somewhere between a hairbrush and a bath brush and could only possibly make itself useful by making girls cry lots and lots.
Also, this is one of the only times that I’ve told a chastisement story on this blog. I usually consider this to be personal, and often sullied by public sharing but because this one was delivered in a semi-public setting, not over something deeply personal and very important to the narrative of my developing relationship with YS, I’ve decided that I have positive feelings about sharing this. I’ll eventually write a longer post about my feelings towards punishment and the public eye (by which I mean it’s been a draft for approximately 3 months).
On a regular basis, I look at what search terms get me the most traffic. I’m not obsessed with search engine optimization or anything, but I do like to know what people are looking for when they come here. From time to time, though, I sort through the less popular search terms. I’ll go through the whole list! Some of them are laughably weird. Others are more of what I’d expect. There are quite a few people that reach my blog by typing a question into a search engine. This is a practice that makes me think of my friend and former blogger Sophie, who first discovered the internet spanking world by typing “How do I get a spanking” into a search engine.
I’ve decided that I’m going to go through and directly answer the questions that were posed to me indirectly through the form of my search terms. Sounds like fun to me. 🙂
Q: How do I care for a spanked bottom?
A: I recommend referring to this post for detailed information on the subject. In the immediate short term, I recommend ice, lotion and, if available, gentle butt massage. 🙂
Q: Are spankings really enjoyable?
A: My immediate answer to this would be “fuck yes!” because to me, there’s no question. There are a lot of intricacies to this, though. For example, disciplinary spankings are by no means enjoyable, even though they are important to me and an extremely effective tool in the process of my amelioration and growth. Other spankings are only enjoyable because of the feeling of submission which they conjure up in my heart and the satisfaction of knowing that it pleased my partner to spank me in such a manner. At the end of the day, though, being spanked by someone who loves me makes me feel loved, no matter the situation or atmosphere. There are always going to be spankings that are less enjoyable: the awkward ones when getting to know a play partner, the guy at a party whose style just doesn’t click with you at all, the Top you don’t really know who accidentally crosses some kind of line, et cetera. So, I can’t say that ALL spankings are enjoyable, but as a general rule, yes, spankings are awesome.
THAT SAID, I am speaking from the viewpoint of a true, hardwired spanko. I sometimes try to imagine what it would be like for someone who is not one such to experience a spanking. I would imagine that for someone with other interests in bottoming in the kink community, it could be anything from a nice change of pace to slightly humiliating to downright strange. Those who aren’t already interested in having painful things done to them would probably be extremely shaken. I can’t begin to fathom what it would be like for a vanilla person to experience the kinds of spankings that I do. I’ve talked to a number of Tops who really fetishize the idea of spanking a vanilla girl, but it just seems really, really awful to me (unless, of course, you only gave her a very symbolic spanking).
To finalize my excessively long answer to this, spankings are almost always enjoyable in some form, if you’re a spanko or a kinkster interested in spanking. Whew!
Q: Black nylon cane. Good?
A: I have a black nylon cane. It was a gift to me from SF. It’s one of the harshest implements I own, and it’s pretty scary. Malignus is impressive skilled at caning and he uses it well, but because it’s a very dynamic implement and has enormous flexibility, it’s very difficult to manage. If you’re a Top who is good with canes and looking for something whippy, flexible and capable of delivering a world of hurt, then yes, it’s good. If you’re a bottom, no, it’s not, unless you’re really looking to be sorry, want to be pushed to submit or are a crazy masochist.
Q: Capsaicin cream before or after spanking?
A: As a general rule, when capsaicin has been applied to me, it’s been after a spanking. I have had it applied and then been given additional swats to the area (this was on my inner thigh) and said additional swats felt horrible and made me roll around all over the floor. I suppose it could be used before, in order to make the entire spanking feel like that. Be careful to avoid getting it in eyes, nose et cetera, and not to get it on broken skin. Multiple reports suggest that this is actual torture.
Or, you know, you could be a nice person and not use it all unless you have arthritis and need to warm your joints. That’d be cool, too.
Q: Describe a spanking with an ebony hairbrush.
A: Heather W, in one of our first conversations, described it like this: “…then he spanked me with an ebony hairbrush, which, in case you weren’t aware, is no different than a ROCK.” The material which is closest in effect to an ebony hairbrush, in my opinion, is a small, thick lexan paddle. Ebony is just different than other wood, in a “oh holy mother of god, this hurts!” kind of way. It’s heavy, and hairbrushes have a small spanking surface, so they provide very concentrated pain. They’re also usually a pretty comfortable shape for the spanker to hold, so they can get a good grip and really get you with it. While I really hate being spanked with my ebony hairbrush, it’s something that I do appreciate, because it’s highly effective. It’s a formidable implement. That’s the best phrasing I have for it.
Q: Did God make the butt for spanking?
A: No. In my opinion, God didn’t make the butt for anything, because I entirely reject the belief in deities and in creationism. However, the evolutionary purpose of the human buttocks is not related to spanking, either. Rounded butts on female humans evolved for the purposes of showing off estrogen levels and healthy amounts of fat stores, and to emphasize the size and shape of pelvis and highlight the child-bearing capacity there of. Aside from protecting the tailbone, a fleshy butt seems to have no evolutionary purpose besides to look hot. The cultural evolution of the concept of spanking (both consensual and otherwise) is something that fascinates me, and which I’d like to learn more about in the future, especially as it links to the confusing nature of how, exactly, spankos came to exist.
Q: Do girls like to be spanked in tight jeans?
A: As a general rule, I wouldn’t even say “girls like to be spanked” at all, as I described in an earlier question. I’d personally rather be spanked on my bare bottom than on jeans, because of the increased vulnerability and the fact that this feels warmer and closer to the “ideal spanking” which is imprinted somewhere in my mind as a comfort zone. I do appreciate the protection that jeans can give me, and the nifty fact that when Malignus hits me really hard with a cane over my jeans, it leaves cane stripes on the denim!
|Note, I have a crazy wedgie here because my ass was swollen from getting spanked all weekend long and didn’t fit properly in my jeans at the moment this was taken.|
Q: Does it make a spanked bottom feel better to rub it?
A: It won’t cure it, but rubs definitely feel nice on a spanked bottom. The appropriate amount of firmness depends on just how sore the bottom is, but I’ve never been spanked in such a way that at least light rubbing wasn’t soothing.
Q: How do you heal a bruise caused by spanking your wife?
A: Arnica is supposed to reduce bruising, but I don’t use it. I’ve never seen much of a difference whether I used it or not, and it often just dries my skin out. I find that the immediate application of ice followed by massaging and sometimes gentle hand-spanking is the best way to prevent and then get rid of bruising.
Q: Help me become a spanking model?
A: Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org if you want more information about this!
Q: How are cane-iac products labeled when shipping?
A: They arrive in a long, cardboard package with no spanking related words anywhere on the package. I can’t remember the name on the return address, but it’s just a kind of unusual sounding name.
Q: How old were you when you got your first spanking from your boyfriend?
A: I, personally, didn’t get a spanking from a boyfriend until I was 24 and Malignus became my boyfriend. I got spanked for the first time when I was 18, but I always had different Tops than boyfriends until Malignus. 🙂
Q: How do I hire a spanking model?
A: This is another more complex and business related question which I will answer if you email me. 🙂
Q: Is capzacin ok to use on a bruise butt for spankings? [sic]A: It is safe to apply capsaicin cream to a butt after a spanking whether or not bruising is present. It won’t decrease bruising, and anyone who is telling you so is just lying to you to try and trick you into accepting the cream. Capsaicin hurts a lot. Some people enjoy this kind of hurting, while others stand in front of a fan for hours while crying. I lean more to the side of “standing in front of a fan crying” but it’s different for everyone. 😀
Q: Should a punishment spanking cause crying and tears?
A: There really isn’t any “should” to spankings in my opinion, aside from the fact that I very firmly believe that only consenting adults should be spanked. In my case, disciplinary spankings pretty much always cause me to cry, and I wouldn’t feel properly chastised if it ended before the point of tears for some reason, and I’d probably ask to be spanked more and harder. It really depends on the person, though. Some people just can’t cry from a spanking.
Q: Should a spanking leave a woman’s bottom bruised?
A: Again, there’s no “should” here. It’s hard to bruise my bottom at this point, although Malignus did succeed at that this weekend. I used to bruise at basically a touch, so it was impossible for me not to be bruised after a spanking. Those physiological differences have to be accounted for, as do social reasons such as people who might see bruises or welts and not accept them and, of course, the preferences of both partners.
Q: What is a spanko?
A: A spanko is a person who fetishizes spanking, or a person involved in BDSM who has a strong preference for spanking related activities. A “hardwired spanko” is a person who has had an interest in or obsession with spanking since their early life and a “spanko purist” is someone who only fetishizes spanking and not other BDSM activities.
Q: Will my first spanking make me cry?
A: This really depends on you. Mine did, although not immediately. About half way into it, I started to cry, and I ended up really sobbing and bawling. This was mostly because it felt so goddamn good to be finally getting a spanking, and I was able to finally let go of all the anxiety that I’d built up around it from the time that I was a child. Some people do not cry the first time they are spanked, but later become comfortable enough with spanking, their Top, themselves et cetera to be able to cry. Some people never cry from a spanking. This is a frustration to some, but others don’t really have any interest in it. It depends on you. 🙂
For whatever reason, I had a lot of fun doing this. Hooray!