Note- this entry has very little spanking in it and mostly deals with submission, sadism and video games. Kthnx.
I don’t really remember how the whole thing got started. It had to do with the fact that I made the mistake of bringing my N64 and the combined collection of me and my elder brother’s game cartridges with me when I moved. I had figured that Malignus and I would have fun playing classic games together, that I could play Pokemon Snap, and that there would probably be something in my selection that Malignus would enjoy playing himself.
Little did I know that in that cardboard box, I had packed my new worst enemy in the form of a shiny, gold game cartridge that was once my brother’s.
It turns out that Malignus loves The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time. I had watched my brothers play parts of it when I was a girl, but had found it too frustrating for me and never even maintained a save file. At some point, Malignus got the idea that he was going to make me play it. What started out as a simple assignment quickly turned into a nightmare: I’ve never been worse at anything in my life. I’m not kidding when I say that. Every frustrating thing I’ve ever attempted- learning to drive, doing ballet, jumping hurdles when I ran track and field, learning about Quantum Physics, writing characters in traditional Chinese with a brush and ink- they all pale in comparison to the difficulty that I have with playing Zelda. It’s worse because I’m traditionally a fast study at video games, even those that I don’t like. Yet here are a few scenarios that I’ve run into when playing this one:
* I attempted to get past one hallway which is littered with traps a total of 37 times before I got through.* I prepared for a boss battle by collecting two red fairies (items that let you regain all your life when you die) and having full health and then died entirely before I entered the room. That means that I lost 30 hearts in a single hallway which was supposedly so simple that the people who make walkthroughs for Zelda didn’t even bother to say anything besides “avoid these guys and go in the door.”*I spent a total of two and a half hours attempting to beat a boss that is described in the walkthrough as being able to be beaten in literally less than a minute.*I dedicated three hours to completing one dungeon. At the end of the first half of that time, I had not yet made it past the first of five steps it takes to ENTER said dungeon.
|The Trinity of Terror +1
The first couple of times that Malignus told me I was going to play Zelda after it was shown just how horrid I am at it, I responded by whining and protesting in a way most out of character for me. This attitude was quickly abandoned when I was asked if I needed a caning to motivate me. Still, there were times when I simply didn’t listen to what he was instructing me to do in the game, or I didn’t try, or I just kept royally failing at things and he decided that I needed that “motivation.” You know what words are always scary?
“I’m getting the cane.”
That can never not be scary. Some very stupid part of me didn’t except Malignus to actually come back with a cane the first time he said that regarding Zelda. I mean, who gets caned over video games? Answer: me. Not only did he come back with one, but he came back with the scariest one I own (pictured above) and gave me a pretty hard stroke with it. He then continued to sit near me waving it back and forth (it’s extremely flexible) and hitting the furniture to “keep me focused.” I guess it kinda worked. I certainly started putting forth full effort. Slowly but surely, putting in an hour or two at a time, I made it through quite a bit of the game. In some ways, I improved, but I remained horribly bad at platforming, dodging traps and fighting bosses.
Yesterday afternoon, Malignus told me to start playing Zelda again and I responded by asking if I could finish something first. I didn’t stop right away when he said “No,” even though we’ve “talked” (I’m sure you understand what that means, right?) about that sort of thing fairly often recently. As a result, I ended up getting sentenced to play through two dungeons of Zelda before bedtime instead of one. Because I’m a highly responsible person, I played until he left for work and then went to the store to get waffles, then played a little more, then talked to a partner, then took a nap, then text messaged Peachy for a while, then talked to Heather online and only started playing with true focus and dedication at 8:30 PM.
I kept playing for the next five hours and I still didn’t finish the amount of game that I’d been told to do. While I played, I felt a flurry of emotions. The primary one was frustration. I was frustrated at the stupid game for being so damn difficult, at Malignus for making me do such a stupid thing, and, more than anything else, at myself for sucking so hard. I nearly broke my controller at least once. I got so pissed off that I started intentionally abusing my horse, Epona, who I had originally promised never to hurt, just to have a vessel for my rage.
At one point, I got so angry about it that I got tears in my eyes. It was then that I had to remember why, exactly, Malignus was having me play Zelda. It wasn’t purely sadism (although I can’t help but believe that it was at least part of it). It was to teach me to persevere without getting angry, to apply the things I already knew about the world to new situations, to use my brain and to be patient. It probably also had to do with time management: something I’d failed at yet again. With this in mind, and with the knowledge that my D/s dynamic is founded around the idea that I may not fail myself, I continued to trudge forward.
When I finally fell asleep at 3:30 this morning, I hadn’t finished the amount of Zelda that I’d been assigned, but I was damn proud of myself for my endurance in making it as far as I did. There’s something very satisfying in giving something, even something that seems dumb, your all. I know that next time won’t be as bad. It’s kind of amazing how horrible/educational everything can be.
The other day, I was looking through my list of fetishes on fetlife. I enjoy the fetish list: I try not to abuse it too much, but I’m fond of creating or adding fetishes that are witty, funny or poignant. Really, the whole thing is kind of unnecessary: my fetish list can be condensed into “spanking.” Everything else serves to flesh out what kind of spanking scenes I’m into: the severity, frequency and style of spanking that I enjoy is highlighted. I took a look at my “Curious about” list, though, and discovered that it was 99%* inside jokes. In fact, only five items are real things that I’m interested in trying. This got me thinking: have I done it all? Aren’t there things I still desire to experience for the first time in Spankingland?
I have a very specific kink. I like to be spanked. I like to be spanked with various things, and I’d like to expand my collection, but there are only a couple of implement categories that I haven’t explored at all yet. As far as positioning goes, I really don’t like to have too much variety: if it was practical (and up to me) I’d be spanked over a lap a hundred percent of the time. I’m not into unusual positions or restraints or bondage furniture.
I’ve learned that I am far more fond of spankings that seem real, and which fit seamlessly into my daily life than fantasy based spankings. Despite the amount of value that I placed on my early childhood fantasies, I’d rather enjoy the themes which were important in them during a spanking that just involves me being me and my top being himself than actually act them out. I’m pretty much only into roleplaying for the sake of doing videos or if it is really funny. J. and I have had some scenes that were downright ridiculous in that regard, and I kind of dig that. I don’t have any role-plays that I’m dying to play out to add to my “curious about” list.
There are plenty of locations to be spanked in, but honestly, I don’t really approve of spanking in public places, or areas where one could be caught. I don’t get a thrill out of the risk of exposure: I just get fear and anxiety, in a bad way. I’m unable to relax and enjoy what I’m doing. As a nude model, I’ve done a lot of outdoor or semipublic work in places where it is not entirely legal, and it terrifies me. Getting caught naked is scary. Getting caught being spanked is maybe the scariest thing ever**. Because of this, the locations where I legitimately would like to be spanked are fairly limited.
|That’s a public road behind me. I would not like to be spanked here.
The final thing that I can think of which varies between spankings is the atmosphere. This is probably the most significant of the possible variables: it’s the main thing that makes one spanking I receive different than another. That said, I’ve explored, at least a bit, all the major atmospheres which interest me. There isn’t any one type of spanking that I’ve never experienced which stands out to me as “I want that!” There are plenty of them that I want to delve deeper into, but you can only be curious about something until you’ve tried it once. 🙂
There’s a sort of meme in the spanking community of having a Spanking Bucket List, an idea popularized by a thread on fetlife which was particularly full of win. When I made my post to it some five months ago, my list was very general. From my exploration of this topic, I’ve created an updated one.
Getting spanked with a bath brushBath brushes are scary. I always understood in theory that they were scary: they’re basically a hairbrush on a stick, and the “on a stick” part allows the spanker to get more leverage. Plus, Janey really likes them, and anything that she likes makes me terribly afraid. When I was shooting with Lily Starr, she gave me a few test swats with the bath brush and I was surprised by just how much it hurt. Sure, we’d just done three scenes, so I was sore, but the three not particularly hard spanks that she gave me had me yelling about how unacceptable it was.
I like scary things. I get a huge thrill from working myself up over how bad something is going to be. It’s often even worse than I psyched myself up for, too, because usually these new experiences come from a particular individual who spanks me with 0% mercy. I also have a questionable sense of self-preservation. These things combined make me want to be spanked with a bath brush.
Being co-toppedI love the energy between the person spanking me and myself during a scene. The idea of having a third party involved to add to that dynamic seems awesome to me. I’ve co-bottomed before, and that was a lot of fun, so I want to try it this way, too! I’d especially like to be co-topped by two people that particularly enjoy each other or engage well together: I think the banter would be awesome.
Getting spanked on a wet bottomPeople talk about this all the time: it supposedly hurts more. I’m slightly skeptical of this, which is probably kind of silly. Whenever I’ve been skeptical of how much something hurts, it’s always really horrible. At one point, I didn’t think wooden spoons could hurt. At another, I didn’t think that the lag between a cane stroke and the full effect was “real” (before I had been caned). I even doubted the medical accuracy of the idea of a “weak spot” after skin broke during a spanking until I had to deal with one for a while. You’d think I’d eventually learn that if everyone talks about something, it’s probably accurate. Still, there’s nothing wrong with learning things the painful way, right?
Attending spanking partiesThis is a big one! I’ve never even been to a tiny party. I want to go! I want to be surrounded by people who share my kink. I want to meet awesome people I’ve interacted with online. I want to get implements from a vendor fair. I want to be spanked by Tops I’ve spanking-crushed on over the internet but never had a chance to meet.
Sitting down in the snow after a hard spankingI’ve seen photos of people doing this, and I think it’s adorable. Because I’ve been living in Southern California for the past two years and haven’t had to deal with any of the bullshit side of winter, I associate snow with coziness. Plus, if ice on a sore bottom feels good, snow would have to, right? I’ve never been spanked in a place where I could then go outside and have my bottom exposed, though, so the closest I’ve come to this is falling on my sore and swollen butt while ice skating, which, I can tell you, is not as fun as it looks and it does not look particularly fun.
Getting spanked on the beachOn the opposite end of the spectrum, if it were sufficiently private, I’d like to be spanked on the beach. When spankings are slow and rhythmic, I associate the feeling with the waves hitting me when I’m swimming in the ocean. It would be lovely to have a spanking follow that actual rhythm. I spent nearly all my life living in a costal area, too, so I have a lot of strong, positive memories associated with the shore. Plus, I bet that getting wet in the salt water afterwards would be ridiculously stingy!
Getting spanked in my carThis is a pretty lame thing to have on my bucket list, because I think that the main reason why people get spanked in cars is because they don’t have anywhere else to go do it. Still, I’ve just recently obtained my first personal car, and nothing would make it more “mine” than being spanked in the backseat. I mark my territory with my tears.
Getting an extremely long spankingSometimes, during a pleasant spanking, I get the feeling that I never want it to end, and I feel the same sense of disappointment that one gets when a particularly fun ride at the fair starts to come to a halt when I feel the pace slowing down for the inevitable end. I’d love to have a spanking that just kept going. Here’s my pitch for a spanking video: a feature length film that’s just me getting one long, peaceful, OTK, hand-spanking. What? That would get boring to watch? Harumph!
Purchasing leather implementsAs you may have seen in my recent post about my implement collection, I don’t own anything leather. I used to have hang ups about the material from earlier, non consensual experiences. Recently, I started playing with it and I discovered that not only do I no longer find emotional discomfort from the use of leather implements, but I am actively fond of the physical sensation. I’d like to eventually obtain some leather implements of my own.
Cutting a switch.Originally, I didn’t think that switches were scary. I thought they were kind of like less terrifying canes or something. Then a few of my friends started comparing them to razor wire and saying that they’re the all-time worst implement they’ve ever been spanked with and I chickened out. Maybe it’s because no one has reminded me of how terrible they are in a while, maybe it’s because I’m not currently sitting on a collection of welts and bruises, maybe it’s because there isn’t anyone around to thrash me at the moment, but I’ve regained enough confidence to feel, once again, curious about getting spanked with a switch. Like I said before, I like having things hyped up and scary once in a while. This is certainly one of those things.*Approximate figure. I did not do the math.**I know, I use this term a lot. Someday, I’ll collate all the data and come up with the True Scariest Thing Ever (TSTE).
I wrote the story that I posted to my blog the other night shortly after the scene took place, but only recently decided to share it. So that night, as I was getting it into blog-post form, I decided that I needed to add a photo of Warren to make things complete. I got up from the bed where I was working and went to the closet where I keep my implements to retrive it for photographing. I looked around, but was surprised to see that Warren was not there. I shoved stuff around, looking under other implements and even under the clothes and shoes on the next shelf over, but I didn’t see it anywhere.
Had I lost Warren? I had taken it, along with a handful of other implements, in my suitcase when I went to shoot with Lily Starr. I hadn’t ended up needing them, since Lily had a bunch of awesome/unacceptable stuff, so I hadn’t been thinking much about the fact that I brought them when I was leaving. Had I left Warren in the hotel room?
For all the times that I had joked about wanting Warren to get lost forever, when the possibility that it had actually happened arose, I was not happy with the development at all. The first issue that came to mind was the fact that it seemed unlikely that anyone would believe that it really was an accident, given how vocal I’ve been about wanting it broken into eight million splinters or burned in the fires of Mordor. I was fairly confident that my Dominant would believe me, for he knows me as no one else ever has and I believe would recognize that doing something like that on purpose is extremely beyond my character. Still, I don’t think he’d have been happy about it, and I didn’t want anyone to go around thinking that I lost toys I dislike on purpose. I had a hairbrush with which I had a fairly antagonistic relationship stolen at a munch one time, and I got a lot of flack for the fact that it “disappeared” from a couple of my friends and it had made me feel really awful.
Eventually, I found Warren. It had fallen from the shelf and my cats had piled a bunch of my clothes on top of it (perhaps trying to protect me?) when they were screwing around in the closet. It was the only time in my life when I looked at that implement and felt happy and relieved to see it :P.
|Hugging a spoon is hard and awkward.
The whole experience reinforced an idea that my scene with J. had reminded me of: that in the end, no matter how much part of me hates something, no matter how many awful things I can say about it, the part of me that wants to be pushed and wants to submit will always win. It doesn’t make it untrue that I despise Warren and think it’s a truly evil, wicked creation. It’s just also true, and perhaps more worth my focus, that when I thought for a few minutes that I’d never again experience the agony that it creates, I felt a genuine sense of disappointment and sadness. As much as I hate it, my appreciation for its effect is stronger and more important to me.
Are there any spanko bottoms out there who have actually intentionally lost or destroyed a feared or disliked implement? Have you even just hid something? What was your particular motivation? What happened in the end? How did it make you feel? The fact that I could never bring myself to do such a thing and wouldn’t want people to think that I did doesn’t mean that I am judging anyone who has. We’ve all got different feelings and motivations for WIIWD and I’m curious to hear other perspectives. Tops, have you ever had a bottom hide/lose/destroy your stuff? How did you react? If you haven’t, how would you if it did happen? Do you feel that falls under acceptable bratting play, or does it cross a line to you?
In other news, I’m leaving to head up to Folsom Street Fair today with some awesome Los Angeles scene friends. I expect it to be full of epic win, and I shall tell you about my adventures upon my return, so look for that post!
Finally, I’ve updated my blog layout a bit over the past couple of days. Apparently some people didn’t understand that the background was meant to be Alice in Wonderland themed, (you know, to play off the name of the blog?) so I added that adorable little White Rabbit graphic and changed the background color to echo the blue color traditionally associated with Alice’s dress. I think everything looks brighter and more cheery now, too, so I hope you like it.