So, I’ve never participated in Kink of the Week before. This is partially because I tend to think of myself as not having “a lot” of kinks, and partially because I was always running myself ragged trying to tell every single story that happened in my life. Now that I’ve stepped back from feeling responsible for keeping up with that, I feel able to do more posts like this, so I’m going to give this a go. 🙂
The KOTW topic this week is protocol.
My first D/s dynamic with was with Malignus, and it began two and a half years ago. When we first met, I was very uncertain of whether or not I was actually submissive or if I was just a bottom. A lot of this was my general discomfort with non-spanking BDSM. At the time, I felt very different from the people that I interacted with at Dungeons and munches in Los Angeles. I felt like they saw me as boring, or as “doing it wrong” because the things that I liked and wanted were so incredibly specific, and a lot of it seemed far more casual than what other people did. I began the journey of discovering what submission actually meant to me (a process that I think will always be continuing) and I found that it was something that I identified with strongly. I liked the feeling of trusting someone and sharing control over aspects of my life. I grew into the role very, very well, and was able to identify that this was actually a huge part of what I wanted from my kink. There were things that continued to make me uncomfortable, though. One of these was the idea of protocol.
During one of our original conversations, Malignus mentioned to me that it would be an option for him to “train me” in “high protocol.” He wasn’t pushing this, or anything, just putting it out there as an option. This idea made me tremendously (and irrationally) upset. I’ve always been very put off by the word and idea of “training.” I associate it with breaking down that which is naturally there and replacing it with something else, and this was something which I thought I saw in some D/s relationships and found very threatening. I was scared that being a submissive would make me lose myself. I didn’t want my normal preferences and behaviors to be broken down and replaced with “protocols.” Malignus did his best to reassure me that this wasn’t what he meant at all, but when I was not able to be calmed, we just ignored the topic in general.
I remained uncomfortable if he talked about his other submissives and their ways of practicing protocol, or if I interacted with people who prescribed to a standardized set of protocol. Eventually, I realized that this was because my kink is so, incredibly personal to me and I didn’t want to feel like I had to follow someone else’s set of rules. For a long time, “protocol” remained a dirty word, though, even though I was constantly being assured that no one was going to force me to follow any arbitrary and unnecessary rules, and that “they” couldn’t make me do ANYTHING without my consent.
Eventually, I grew up a bit, got over myself and became more confident in the scene. I got over my “spanko-angst” and began to relate well to people with other kinks. I stopped being so puritanical about “spanko purity” and explored other kinks a bit, discovering a variety of things that did and didn’t work for me. From here, I was able to look back at my original D/s relationship and realize that it was fairly strictly protocoled. It was just our own, personal protocol, and Malignus wasn’t calling it that to keep me from getting freaked out again. 😛
Now that I’m past my dislike of the word, I identify protocol as being something that exists in the space where the rules and rituals of a D/s relationship overlap (I realize that this is similar but different to the article which Jade referred to in the KOTW post). Observe my diagram:
|I made this in approximately 75 seconds, so I hope it doesn’t suck too much.|
Take my D/s dynamic with Paul, for example. There are certain things that are just rules and don’t fall under the heading of Protocol. It’s a rule that I can’t do irresponsible things that put myself in danger, but there isn’t any repetition there, and it isn’t part of the routine of our lives and interactions, really. One could argue that I’m in the routine of thinking before doing stupid things, but it’s not the same.
There are other rules that integrate into the habits of my daily life, and are therefore part of the ritual of our relationship: it’s a rule that I go to bed before 2:00 AM and a rule that I update my blog at least once a week. These things are also fairly procedural, so in my mind, they can be considered part of the protocol of our dynamic.
On the other side of the chart, there are things that are ritualistic or part of our habits that aren’t really rules. These behaviors are still very important to me, because they create stability. For example, I know that after any sort of scene, we’ll cuddle for however long I need to before we try to do anything else. It’s part of the ritual that we’ve created around playing, but it isn’t a rule, per se. I wear my shell necklace every day because it makes me feel close to Paul despite our current distance, and it is a visual symbol of our relationship. Having it there is part of my daily ritual, but it isn’t a protocol, because there’s no enforcement that I do this.
There isn’t any particular reason why the things that fall into the “protocol” space are more important, though. The distinction is purely semantic, but science knows that I love semantics. All three things (rules, protocol and ritual) create a sense of stability and make me feel both secure and loved. Certain aspects become very important to me when we’re apart from each other, especially things that I can do on my own to engage in the dynamic (like working on my blog or going to bed on time) if, for some reason, we can’t be in communication at a particular moment. Others, especially the protocol and ritual that we use within a scene, become very important when we’re together. They’re little things that make me feel very submissive, and it’s a wonderful feeling.
The creation of these practices over time has been very special to me. I still can imagine how distasteful what I thought protocol was meant to be would be. It would make D/s feel very cold and impersonal to simply try to apply a set of “right” or “one size fits all” behaviors to it. When I read about other people’s protocols, especially when looking through the KOTW posts, I sometimes think “That would never work for me,” or “that sounds really detached” or something like that. That’s the beauty of this thing. Other people’s protocols don’t HAVE to work for me. Only mine do. And they do.
I’m now going to write a series of posts about the time that Paul and I spent together at the Cabin, and at Florida Moonshine. Be warned that a lot of this is gushy and “OH MY GOD I’M SO HAPPY.” These posts, however, are not any more explicit than the other stuff that I post is.
Finally, the morning arrived on which I was going to pick Paul up. His flight schedule was super confusing to me, so I ended up getting Amoni up way earlier than was necessary. It was insanely early in the morning and I hadn’t slept much, but I was full to the brim with energy. I’m not a morning person. Paul is one of the only people for whom I can be cheerful in the morning. Usually, I’m a grumpy ball of “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t anything. Stop existing, Universe.”
I spent a very long time getting put together that morning, making sure that everything was perfect. I knew that I could have just showed up looking like I do on an average day and he’d have thought I was beautiful, but this was the first time he was going to see me without the aid of a camera since I became his girlfriend, and I wanted it to be ideal. Because I didn’t feel like I “had to” look any particular way for him, and my girliness came from me, it felt like a sign of love.
|I bought this birds dress with Heather W. The girly feeling went well with my emotions for the day. I also had on ruffly knee socks and a slip, because that’s how to be fancy, right?|
Amoni and I got to the airport around the time that he was leaving his layover, since I was bad at the schedule (although the fact that I was early was much better than the other way!) so we went out to breakfast and did some shopping. I bounced everywhere. I was tremendously high strung and I had an insanely quick heart rate all day long. Just getting a text from Paul makes me smile uncontrollably Any form of communication makes my heart jump. Seeing him? After months? After so much had changed, grown and developed? My heart beat like a kitten’s.
Finally, we went back to the airport and watched the screens, as his flight was delayed. Amoni sat with me as I jittered, trying to sip at a cup of tea, bouncing in place. The last time Paul and I saw each other before this was at the airport in London, as I was getting ready to leave to go back to Sioux Falls. We were sitting in a cafe eating breakfast and I said “I can’t believe we’ve spent less than a month together. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
“Now you will,” he said. We were tactile then, sometimes holding hands, very often cuddling on the sofa, but still guarded in many ways. I knew that I had feelings for him then, but I didn’t know what they were exactly. It was mostly just nice. Saying goodbye had been difficult, and at the moment that it hurt so badly to pry myself away, to detach, I had started to understand.
At the airport in Denver now, I waited and waited, feeling tortured by the slow progression of time. Eventually I looked down at my phone for something and Amoni said “Oh hey, is that him?” At first I didn’t see him and thought she was teasing me. Then I did. I sort of threw my stuff at Amoni and ran, more wildly than I usually would ever run in a public place. I was careful not to knock him over when I started hugging, but I basically threw myself into it. It was the best feeling. I thought that my heart was going to pop with joy. Then we kissed. It was the first time we ever had, and we did it for ages right in the middle of the crowded airport. It was perfect, perfect, perfect. We eventually went back to regular hugging, and exchanged our first “I love you” that wasn’t through a microphone or typing.
“We should probably go find Amoni. I kinda threw all my stuff at her and ran over here,” I finally told him, and we did. Amoni was the first of my friends at home to be introduced to him, and that was exciting, too.
|First picture of us together as a couple!|
We went to baggage claim to get Paul’s stuff, and then to the shuttle to pick up our rental car and I was super hyped up, talking way too fast, unable to be calm, unable to be still, ridiculously energetic and nervous and excited. I was probably pretty annoying to be around after an insanely long period of traveling, honestly. Butitwasthemostexcitingthingeverandicouldntevenstoptobreathe
Eventually we got the car and said goodbye to Amoni, who I hugged super tightly. She’d taken really good care of me and been incredibly patient in the past few days as I talked about things non stop. Then we were alone together. We stopped somewhere to get food, since Paul was starving, and the pace of things slowed down a little. We were just sitting there talking. We held hands across the table, and he gently rubbed mine. I sometimes fell into nervousness. I’ve mentioned this before, but Paul is the only person with whom I’ve gotten together romantically and not stopped having a crush on. I start acting like someone much younger and less romantically experienced than I actually am. I get nervous and blush. It’s kind of cute, I guess. I felt this very, very much this first day.
There’s another thing. I was aware of Paul and liked him for longer than I actually knew him, just the way that anyone who is a consumer of spanking content has people that they particularly favor watching. It just happened to work out that we got along amazingly and work quite ideally as a couple in the real world. Sometimes, though, I experience derealization about this. It was like my brain was not sure how to process so much happiness, and it wondered if it was just some kind of dream. A few times, I hugged Paul and said “I’m so happy that you’re real.” Because it was real. All of this was real.
After we ate, I drove us to the cabin. The landscape got increasingly prettier as we got further away, and I didn’t really struggle with the driving at all, although I’d been afraid that I would. I’m not a very experienced driver yet– I got my license a year and a half ago. But it was fine.
The cabin was not particularly difficult to find, and it was nicely secluded, which would do well for the activities that we had planned. The area was beautiful, full of conifers and a few aspens, with a thick layer of pine needles covering the forest floor. I grew up in Southern New Jersey and while I lived at the shore, my grandparents lived in a small house in the Pine Barrens. The forest was like a giant version of that where I played as a child, and the much larger height of the trees here made me feel particularly physically small: a feeling that I cherish and enjoy. The cabin was the only building on a street called “Owl Drive.” This was perfect: my mascot animal is a stuffed owl. They’re a favorite.
The cabin was built and furnished in the late 60’s, I think. It had a big screen porch, a living room with a stone fireplace, comfortable sofas, a kind of crazy orange shag carpet and a deer head mounted over the mantle, staring at us slightly eerily. The kitchen was small and full of old appliances and cook wear, but functional. There was a small diningroom table on which we found a basket of basic supplies. To the right was a study. I’m quite sure that the presence of this room was probably key in Paul selecting this particular cabin. Studies are the perfect place for serious spankings, in my mind, and I got to fantasizing just looking at the desk.
To the left was a very small restroom with the world’s littlest shower and two bedrooms. One had two twins and would be used for very little. We set our stuff down in the master bedroom. I excitedly looked in all the drawers and cabinets, as I often do in a new place. Then Paul pulled me into another kiss, which filled me with happiness and excitement. Real. Real. Real.
Slowly he undressed me down to my carefully selected panties (white ones printed with “I love you” that I had once sent him photos of to cheer him up) and then turned me over his lap on the edge of the bed. Then he spanked me. It started tender and lovingly, then built up in intensity, making me gasp and wriggle. Nothing in that moment could have been better. I almost cried from being so happy. The spanking seems infinitely long in my mind, but I’m sure it wasn’t, since we were both fairly physically worn out from the day. I just floated there in a safe, loved, warm, glowing, submissive headspace, feeling totally at home over his lap, like I belonged nowhere else in the world.
Eventually, this devolved into cuddling. I’m a very physical person. My body is always hungry for touch, and I love to be held. Our cuddling was always perfect, and I never wanted it to end. There was so much safety and love and happiness to be found wrapped up in Paul’s arms with my head on his chest. Eventually, though, there was a knock on the door, which Paul went to answer as I had not yet gotten dressed again. It was the owner of the cabin, checking to make sure we’d arrived safely and were all set. As Paul talked to him, I got back into my dress and snuck out, hoping I didn’t look too disheveled. After the cabin owner was satisfied that we were fine and took off, we decided that we should probably head into town and find something to eat for dinner. The nearest town was Nederland, which is a small kind of hippy-filled mountain tourist town. The first place that appeared open was a giant German-American restaurant called “The Black Forest Inn.” We decided to eat there.
This was one of the top ten strangest places I’d ever eaten. It was ENORMOUS. It clearly sat 300 people or something, but there was no one there but us and our awkward, faux-German waiter. Our food was strange and not particularly good, and we kind of laughed at the absurdity of the giant, Hansel and Gretel looking restaurant that was only open to service us. We decided that we would not be going back there to eat again. 😛
After eating, we went back to the cabin where we spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other, sharing time that was intimate and magical.
Everything in my life was shiny and wonderful. ♥
As my time in England drew to a close, I felt a certain sense of sadness drawing on me. While my trip had begun with me hating everything and desperately wanting to be home, the thought of leaving now made my heart heavy. Of course I was looking forward to seeing everyone that I hadn’t for so long, but it didn’t stop my other feelings. I was made more sensitive and vulnerable than I usually am (so, that’s saying something!) by the combination of this and a stressful situation that was going on back in the states. Everyone remained very patient with me, though and I got to have several more exciting adventures before the day did arrive when I had to leave.
One day, close to the end of my visit, Paul took me for a walk on the shore. Having grown up by the sea, I’m always fascinated by visiting beaches that are different than the New Jersey coastline that I identify in my mind when I hear the word “ocean.” It was very different: the waves were small and choppy, but without foam, the water seemed to be a different hue, and the beach itself was made up of a mixture of tiny rocks and broken shells.
Being by the water is linked to the majority of my positive childhood memories, and it’s a setting that brings me back to a happy part of my mind, making me feel small, but in an entirely comfortable way. Paul held my hand as we walked along, although I constantly stopped to pick up tiny seashells. These shells are precious to me, now, and I always have one of them in the pocket of my favorite sweater, and just running my fingers over it reminds me of that buffer I talked about before: safety, comfort and love. I later discovered that one of them has a hole in it naturally, so I stuck it on a chain and often wear it as a necklace.
|Shell necklace, as seen around my neck in this photo from the other day by Amoni.|
Another fun experience happened when Zoe came over and spent the night (along with two other girls who I didn’t really know) and mass girliness ensued. It was lovely to hang out in a group of people, where we chatted and drank champagne while Lucy dyed one of the other girls’ hair, but the part of the evening that mostly stands out in my mind was once Zoe and I were meant to go to bed. She was staying in the same room as me, and in the time honored tradition of any two girls spending a night together that usually don’t, we stayed up extremely late chatting. We kept giggling and then remembering to be quiet and whispering for a moment, and then someone would say something that would make the other gasp and we’d forget and get noisy again. We talked about all kinds of things, including how we got into the scene and how we both started filming, and we shared awkward but funny stories and even a few personal secrets. Eventually, we went to sleep, but not without several false starts of “Okay, we really have to go to bed now!” “Alex! It’s three! Go to sleep!” “Zoe! Stop talking!”
The next morning, Zoe painted my nails for me. She’s into nail art, and I asked her to do Pikachu faces for me, which she gladly and successfully did. I found this to be the most delightful thing that has ever happened to my hands (in a few days you will hear about the least delightful thing that has ever happened to my hands). I’m still impressed with how cute they are. It was a sad day when I eventually had to take them off.
|Zoe Page is the most awesome ever.|
I think it was the next day that I left Paul and Lucy’s house. Paul took me to another town, where we were both filming for Bars and Stripes on the day before I had to leave to go back. I was quite sad to leave, and I said my goodbyes to Lucy then, although I would be seeing her at BBW as well.
Shooting for Bars was incredibly fun for me. There was the fact that there were a ton of people that I liked all on set together: Paul, Stephen and Zoe all topped me (I got to be the center of lots of tops’ attention again! Bonus!) and Michael was filming. We were filming at Dodgy Dave’s place, and he was around and assisting, and I got to know him a bit. It was just a lovely group of people, and a wonderful way to end my visit. I also loved the content that we filmed. I mentioned before that I’ve recently gotten more into doing “dark and horrible” scenes. At some point, I realized that as much as I love the sweet and innocent stuff, or the very consensual play that I engage in at home, as much as I relish in the good feeling of being beaten by someone with affection for me, there’s something that I find positively invigorating about scenes with non consensual themes. I’ve gotten very fond of abuses of power, force, pressure, terrible unfairness, power held via intimidation rather than respect and so on (in role play, of course). The content that we filmed for Bars was all about that stuff. There was no “you’re really a good girl, we care about you quite a bit, but you’re going to get spanked anyway.” In it’s place was a general sense of nastiness, authority figures who disliked me and were very liberal with their force, yelling, shouting back and forth at each other, manhandling, trickery and sleeping on the floor with only a blanket. Again, whenever I say that I’m getting into something new, I don’t mean that my interest in this replaces anything that I was previously into, or is more important than that which I traditionally liked all of the sudden. It’s just an expansion of my taste to include additional things, or a growth of my set of options.
I originally kind of imagined that there would be something uncomfortable about filming this sort of stuff with people who were my favorite people in real life, like I wouldn’t be able to take their scariness seriously. In actuality, it was probably only as awesome as it was because of the fact that I knew and trusted everyone involved. It was delightful to step so far outside of myself that I was in a world where I was fearful and angry towards these people one moment, and then, as soon as we cut, I immediately started snuggling them. I trusted everyone enough that there was no real emotional discomfort when things got intense. I just felt very secure, and delighted by the darkness of the scenes. I don’t mean to say that any of the stuff we filmed was vicious. It just wasn’t “nice.” But it was hot. All of it felt wonderful to do.
The final scene that I filmed in England was a double caning from Paul and Stephen, and it was probably the best film to finish with. I’ve always been kind of infatuated by the idea of co-topping, and I hadn’t had a lot of chances to do well developed scenes of that nature before this trip. I was lucky enough to get to do two of them: the scene I’m discussing and one for Dreams of Spanking where I got double strapped by Pandora Blake and Thomas Cameron. Both of these scenes were delightful. Besides all the things I’ve just discussed above, there were two things about this scene that really stood out to me. One was the fact that for part of it, the two Tops were kind of chatting amongst themselves about things unrelated to the work at hand (that is to say, unrelated to caning me). I found this to be horribly dismissive and objectifying in a way that was incredibly appropriate to the scene and was also thrilling. The other moment which stands out to me was near the end of the scene when I was made to thank Officer Kennedy for beating me. This stands out in my mind because it made me aware of just how deeply into my character role I’d gotten and how much a different atmosphere can change the way things feel to me. In “real life,” it feels entirely normal to thank someone for spanking me. I throw it out spontaneously in the middle of a scene sometimes when something hurts in a way that makes me particularly submissive. If I was prompted to thank someone at the end of the scene, I might feel slightly sheepish that I hadn’t remembered to do it on my own without reminding, the way that I feel when someone has to remind me to rinse my bowl before putting it in the sink. In this scene, it was horrible. It was enraging. It was tremendously humiliating. I refused. I would not. That’s a rotten, awful thing to ask of a person, and only a terrible man would demand such a thing, thought my in-character brain. Eventually, of course, I did, but it was bitter.
Then the scene was done, and I felt incredibly high. Filled with positive emotion and endorphins. Elevated by having gone to such a place in my brain. Having been co-topped meant that I had an excuse to force two people to hug me instead of one (although, really, with this group of people I didn’t need an excuse or force ^_^).
And then we were finished filming, and I felt sad again. My adventure was ending. It was almost over.
That night was melancholy to me, but very nice. We went out to dinner at a pub all together, and Zoe and I got excessively big ice creams, just like we had the first night, when Paul had picked me up and taken us up to Derbyshire. We all bantered back and forth, told stories and laughed as we relaxed from the day’s work. Eventually, it was time for everyone else to go home except for Paul and I, who were spending the night at Dodgy Dave’s place, as I’d be going to the airport early in the morning. At some point, I had started to get sick. I thought perhaps I was allergic to something in the air, although I later discovered that I was actually just getting a cold. Anyway, I sneezed and my nose ran basically the rest of the night, which made me feel kind of silly and awkward. Despite this, that evening stands out in my mind as one of the sweeter ones ever. Paul looked after me in a way that was firm but extremely affectionate, and I melted into that feeling. We went up to bed fairly early, as I had to get up in the morning and that’s not something that’s ever easy for me, and then he sat on the bed, put me over his lap and spanked me lovingly for a terrifically long time. I imagined that the entire world was that moment, so that I wouldn’t worry about it being over, and melted into some quiet space in my mind where I was delicate and vulnerable but very well protected. This was, of course, interrupted by my constant sneezing, but that really didn’t bother me much. This was good.
When the spanking was over, my bottom was buzzing with heat, but the rest of me felt entirely relaxed.
“How do you feel?” he asked me.
“Vulnerable. Safe. Happy.” I answered, my voice difficult to find and control.
“Good,” he said. “Do you want to know how I feel?” I nodded. “Wonderful,” he said.
After that, I snuggled up against him and tried to fall asleep. It almost pleased me that I kept sniffling and keeping myself up, because I liked being awake in that moment, floating in some relaxed, half awake snuggle state. Eventually, though, I slept.
In the morning, Paul took me to the airport, where I we ate breakfast together before I had to get on my plane and leave. Somehow, I managed not to cry until I was in flight, where I snuck into the bathroom to do it. It was okay, though. I knew I’d be back. ♥
After having finished the two very exciting shoots that I wrote about in my last couple of posts, I spent a few more days with Pandora. The time that we spent just hanging out was always fun and enjoyable. We did sessions and had fun together. A huge portion of this involved me picking up her cat and not putting her down when she wanted me to. 😛 Eventually, though, Pandora needed to get back to the rest of her life, and I was meant to go visit S_F at this point. Unfortunately, his situation horrible personal situation had not improved, and he was unable to come get me or host me at his house. I actually didn’t end up seeing him at all, the entire time I was in England. Instead, Paul Kennedy and Lucy McLean were kind enough to agree to host me for the rest of the time that I was there. This ended up being basically the best thing ever.
Paul came to pick me up from Pandora’s, and we all had some tea and cake (although just regular cake, not Cake of Ultimate Joy™) before I had to say goodbye to her. I knew I wasn’t going to see her until BBW, which was about a month away, and this was sad for me, because I knew I was going to miss her. I hugged her a lot, and I harassed her cat as much as I could before I had to leave. As disappointing as it was to have to leave Pandora, I was excited that I was going to get to spend more time with Paul. I had found myself thinking about him pretty consistently since I left his house, and I was happy that I’d be seeing more of him.
When we returned to his house, I got to see his wife, Lucy, who I had only briefly met at Shadowlane last year. Lucy wasn’t feeling well that night, but being the horrible influence on my innocent friends that I am, I somehow managed to keep us up until the early morning chatting. Lucy is one of the coolest people to talk to ever, because she knows about an infinite number of things that I don’t know about, mostly lady things, and because she never makes me feel stupid or annoying when I have to ask a hundred and fifty questions about something. Additionally, she’s extremely kind, and I knew as soon as we finally got to sit down and socialize a bit that I really, really liked her and enjoyed being around her.
It’s hard for me to pinpoint the details of the time that I spent at their house and put it all in order. As before, I felt very relaxed and at ease while there, and the environment made me feel really free to be myself. Paul and I got to scene together pretty regularly, as well as just spending normal time together, and I found myself feeling very affectionate towards him– I think I spent the majority of the free time that I had while I was at their house cuddled up to him on the sofa. While it didn’t feel much of anything like the other D/s relationships that I’ve had, at one point or another I realized that I felt very submissive towards him, in a way that made me feel tremendously safe. Some kind of buffer of safety and comfort built up around me as we spent time together, and even though we’re away from each other now, it’s never gone away. In certain ways I felt tremendously shy about it, but I was slowly realizing that this feeling was greater than just affection, or caring or any other words that I might use to describe it aside from love (spoiler alert, we’re in a relationship now). But I didn’t entirely come to this conclusion until after I had returned home. At the moment, it was just a very happy time, in a place and with people that made me feel very contented.
One day near the beginning of this particular chapter of my never-ending adventure, Paul took me into London for what was kind of originally meant to be a variety of tourism events including hanging out at Camden Lock and shopping, but which turned into exclusively that, because I was so enthralled by it. It was cold and kind of constantly rainy, but I just loved walking around and checking out everything. If you don’t know, it’s an area that’s full of kind of alternative stores and vendors and it’s by the waterfront. I obtained several adorable things here, including a couple of excessively cute bunny related things and my very own prefect badge, which is something I’ve always wanted. In a vintage store, I found and got to try on some actual school uniform blazers (the fancy type) but none of them actually fit me, largely because they were all designed for boys of various ages. It was still super cool to wear, and I hope that some day I actually can find a real, legitimate one that fits me properly.
|I have this bunny shirt now. Also, this photo was taken at 13:37. Hawt.|
Shortly after this, a series of events that I now refer to as The Camden Pancake Incident took place. During this incident, Paul got me a pancake from a street vendor. This was basically a sweet crepe, and, for Angelinos, it was served sort of similarly to the ones that I used to get at Four Leaf: folded up on itself in a paper cone. I got it nutella, strawberries and whipped cream, which was basically the best combination of things I could think of, and it was hot when it was handed to me, which pleased me greatly due to my constant state of being kind of cold in England. “Don’t make a mess,” Paul warned me as I started to eat it, and I kind of responded with “Yeah, of course, obviously” or something.
I then proceeded to make a bigger mess than I have ever made in my entire adult life.
Because the pancake was hot, all the nutella and whipped cream melted together into some sort of drippy, creamy, chocolatey goo that got everywhere. It got all over my coat. It got all over my dress. It got all over my socks and shoes. It dripped in a trail behind me. It got into my hair. I probably got it on Paul. It was just impressively messy. I tried to clean as much of it up with napkins as possible, but that had limited success. I was just a sticky mess for the rest of the day. Later, when we got back to the house and I changed to go to bed, I discovered that I had somehow gotten it on my skin under my dress and on my underwear, which doesn’t even seem to follow the laws of physics to me.
Sigh. I’m an adult, I promise.
That evening, we went to a bar where I got to meet Leia-Ann Woods for the first time. She was really peppy and very entertaining to talk to, and I was excited that we’d be getting to see each other again at Boardwalk Badness Weekend the next month. On every occasion that we’ve been together, I’ve failed to take a photo. F – -.
That evening ended in a lovely way, as Paul and I went to dinner, and then took the train back to his town (on which I was very sleepy). The adventure finished with taking a midnight ferry ride, which was theoretically really enticing to me, but ended up being super cold. Fortunately, Paul took me upstairs to a giant heat vent, which I stood under and filled my happiness meter.
That weekend, we filmed for Northern Spanking. I often go thru and give a long play-by-play which describes the scenes that were filmed during a shoot, but this particular one is under-wraps. I’ll just say the following things:
* Besides me and Paul, the films involves Stephen Lewis, Michael Stamp and Zoe Page. There’s something incredibly, indulgently enjoyable about having four tops all to oneself.
* At one point, I wore this fancy outfit, courtesy of Lucy, who besides being amazing herself has all the most amazing stuff to wear ever:
* While we were planning out one of the scenes, Paul sat in this tiny chair, and I think this is the most endearing photo ever.
* It became obvious to everyone that I don’t really know my left from my right particularly well and that I’m horrible at singing.
* Some parts of this were ridiculous.
The final adventure that I shall detail in this post involves Primark. I don’t think most people in the US know what Primark is, unless they’ve been around me recently and have asked me where I bought something I was wearing. Primark is a stylish (“fashion forward” I think is the term) but inexpensive store in England. A lot of the styles that they had were very “me.” They had an enormous selection of underwear and pajamas.
I bought all the things.
So. Many. Things.
I’m almost ashamed to post a photo, because I feel like it makes me look a little awful, but I’m going to anyway.
|This was only the first day. I went back. -_-|
Lucy and Zoe took me, and they were the best people I’ve ever shopped with. They were never annoyed at me for spending so much time, and they helped me try things on, and they told me when things did or didn’t look good on me, they carried stuff around, they took stuff into the dressing room for me… it was just amazing. Lucy fitted me for bras and I finally got some that looked appropriate on me AND are comfortable. The second trip involved me learning what kind of jeans actually don’t make me look stupid, and I’ve actually taken to wearing them fairly regularly (one of those developments in my personality that some people continue to be flabbergasted by). After the shopping adventure, I tried on literally everything in a fashion show, including every single pair of panties that I bought, which I think numbered at least 50. This whole “Alex bought all the things” event lead to me being kind of annoying to my friends at home when they want to know where I got something, because basically all the clothes I wear now come from this exhibition. This also lead to me promising not to shop for two months after coming back from England, which lead to me consistently getting myself a variety of forms of trouble, but most of that is another story.
There will only be one more post about England after this, and then I will post rather briefly about BBW, and then I have a few more adventures to describe before I am all caught up. PROGRESS! ♥
It’s time to continue with the narrative of my life, even though I’m still writing about stuff which happened in March and it’s May now. I’m not going to lie: for various reasons, April was a kind of intense month for me and I didn’t dedicate the amount of time and energy to the blog that I like to (and is expected of me!) so I am really going to make an effort to get caught up on things. Some of these posts won’t be as detailed as they could have been if I’d been able to write about them right away, but I don’t at all regret the way I’ve chosen to spend my time. I hope the stories are still enjoyable to you guys, despite the time-lag.
I wrote in an earlier post about how the start of my trip to England was very stressful. One of the things which had caused me a lot of concern was the fact that since due to horrible personal circumstances, I wasn’t able to spend any of my time with Serious_Face, which had originally been a large part of my plan. Because of this, I ended up leaving my shoot in Derbyshire to go back to Paul Kennedy’s house for a couple of days before I went to visit my very dear friend, Pandora Blake.
The time that I spent at Paul’s house was really lovely. It was the first time I was in someone’s home since I’d left Rafa’s apartment in LA several weeks ago, and that was refreshing, and our time was unscheduled and very relaxed. More importantly, during the previous two days, I had discovered that I liked Paul an awful lot, and that we were very much on the same page about a lot of things. The more we discussed what aspects of this-thing-we-do were appealing and important to us, the more I noted that these things were very much in line. We spent quite a bit of time snuggling, we enjoyed a lot of sweet, rather affectionate play together and he generally looked after me. I’m often very resistant to being looked after: I firmly believe that I’m an adult and that I can and should look after myself. Letting someone else, especially someone who I had only recently gotten to know, care for me felt very vulnerable in a way that was very gratifying and, somewhat surprisingly to me, very submissive feeling. I still felt fairly shy and reserved, but the time we spent was filled with positive feelings. Safety and warmth and happiness.
At one point, we went to a cafe where we had to wait a very long time to get brunch because they accidentally gave our food to someone else(I didn’t care in the slightest. I just liked sitting there and talking to him). You know how when you go out to eat sometimes they give you a number for your table, so that the person who brings your food out knows where to put it? This cafe did that in a way that made me giggle rather considerably:
After that meal, there was cake. I know that you don’t come to my blog to hear about delicious things that I ate, but screw you guys, this cake is worth talking about (Cakeboy will probably not judge me for this section, right?) . It was a glorious cake, full of cream and strawberries. I’m salivating just thinking about how damn good that cake was. Actually, I’m kind of making myself mad, because now I want to eat it again and I can’t. 🙁 It was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. I’m not making that up. I like that cake.
|I want this cake to be on a rainbow and in my mouth.|
After those very pleasant and reenergizing couple of days, Paul took me up to London to stay at Pandora’s. There was much rejoicing when we saw each other. It had been almost a year since we first met, and that was the only time we’d ever been together face-to-face. Pandora is someone that I got very close to over the internet. Besides the fact that we have a ton of fun being ridiculous together (as the stories that follow will show), I really enjoy being with her because we’re able to have a certain kind of academic discourse without me feeling like I’m being a pretentious bastard. Upon me entering her home, however, we did not engage in discourse. Instead, we jumped up and down a lot and hugged vigorously. It was during this that I discovered that Pandora has a cat named Fatface. “I forgot to mention the cat,” Pandora said, “but based on what I know of you, you aren’t going to mind, right?”
Remember a minute ago when I was obsessed with that cake? That cake means nothing to me next to my feelings towards Fatface. Love at first site. Fatface is a big, beautiful cat. She’s fluffy and mostly white, and most of the time, she gives zero fucks about what those weird humans are doing around her. The characteristics that make me like her more than the average cat (which I already like a lot) are as follows:
|WTF, Alex. I came here to hear about spanking and all you want to talk about are cats and cake.|
Eventually, Paul had to leave to go home, which made me a bit sad and would have made me a lot sadder if I wasn’t so excited to be seeing Pandora, and if I wasn’t going to see him again later in the month. I was going to come back down to his place for further shooting in the second half of my visit.
Pandora and I spent a lot of time catching up, and then we went to the grocery store to get food supplies for my visit. She recently started doing free-running (a fact which I find kind of really sexy) and had hurt her ankle doing it just before I arrived, so she was kind of hobbling around and we decided that walking a long distance wasn’t wise and took the bus. At the store, I was introduced to a lot of foods that I wasn’t familiar with, including cider in flavors like strawberry lime (which is pink!) and chocolate oranges. Pandora and I also discovered that we had very similar taste in food, which made things much easier. Being adventurous, we decided to get a dragon fruit, which I’d never had before, and some strange squash or gourd type vegetable that was advertised as being good for curry and sort of looked like a cross between a cucumber and an alligator. We had high hopes for these foods. The dragon fruit turned out to be a bit different than other fruit in that it isn’t really all that juicy, nor is the flavor particularly strong, but it was very good.
|Pandora and the dragon fruit.|
The vegetable in question, however, turned out to be some sort of horrible monster vegetable that shouldn’t be eaten under any circumstance. It was bitter and awful, and it TASTED like an alligator’s skin looks. I think we nearly cried when we ate it, and we had to pick every bit of it out of our stir fry in order to make the rest of the vegetables edible. Sad. Day.
That was an aside, because I was talking about food. After we had finished at the store, we had a few drinks and then went to bed, but we didn’t go to sleep. We stayed up for half the night talking about all sorts of things. We discovered that we had many things in common, including strange, highly personal things that we don’t often talk about. It was a great bonding experience. We also were kind of ridiculous with our combined collection of stuffed animals. This night ended up being the inspiration for one of the scenes that we filmed together later in the week.
The next day, Pandora took me to some charity shops in her area, as I was lacking some of the items that I wanted to have with me due to traveling snafus. I didn’t end up getting too many things that were practical, but I did get a blouse with cats on it, a pair of white (I mean bone) shoes and a pair of purple suede heels. Charity shops are different than thrift stores run by charities in the US, like Goodwill and Salvation Army, and poppin’ tags is a different activity in England than it is here. The stores they have are far smaller, and the selection of items is different. In America, you can find anything at the thrift store, ranging from really trashy, old crap to high class stuff with the tags still on it. In England, everything has kind of already been preselected for quality, which is slightly sad to me, since I thrive on weird, awkward, ironic or geeky things that a lot of people wouldn’t consider “quality.” I still loved the shopping experience and was pleased with my purchases. I also realized that I had an ace in my hand for hipster oneupmanship now: when someone asks me where I got these things, I can say “Oh, I got it at the thrift store… IN ENGLAND.” Ha. No copying me now, bitches!
That evening, Pandora and I somehow ended up in a competition to see who could finish posting to their blog first, which aided me quite a bit in actually getting this stuff done. Pandora, however, finished her post just slightly before I did. “I beat you to posting!” she said, “Now, I’m going to beat you in real life!”
The setting of additional rules to a competition after it’s already been completed like that is tremendously unfair. When I have a certain kind of energy with someone, though, I find unfairness delightful, sort of like the way that YS consistently lies to me about how many strokes he’s going to give me and that somehow ends up with me being happy.
Pandora offered me a warmup, which I gladly accepted, and then put me over her lap and spanked me with her hand. It had been a long time since I was spanked by Pandora, and I was glad it was happening again. I don’t feel entirely submissive towards her, so to speak, but I do feel passive towards her in play, and I enjoy her receiving her Toppiness, and I was very comfortable with her occupying Boss-space for the moment (more information on WTF “bossing” actually means to me coming in a later post). It felt sort of invigorating and exciting to be getting spanked by her. Once I was thoroughly warm, she directed me up onto her sofa for a whacking with a fairly big, leather paddle. I cuddled up to her stuffed dog, Fred, who is known as “Drop Dog” due to his ability to drop onto your head. “Comfort her well, Drop Dog!” Pandora instructed, “she’s going to need it!” (I liked that quite a bit, too). She gave me a spanking that was neither severe nor serious, but still hurt enough, and put me in a giggly, happy, nicely spanked mood. (You can read Pandora’s side of this story here.)
|Thanks, Pandora and Drop Dog!|
It turns out that Pandora and I ended up playing together off camera quite a bit, and this pleased me a great deal. Sometimes the space was lighthearted, and once it was mildly corrective: I smacked her with The Heavy Bear (from “The Bear Incident”), after she knew quite well that I was seriously forbidden from “assaulting” my friends, even (especially?) with bears. We were already in bed, but her response was very quick. She sat up and pushed me down and started to smack my bottom fairly thoroughly while I whimpered and apologized for my bear-violence. Then she got up from the bed, and I turned out of position. “Oh no, don’t go anywhere!” she warned. “You’re not done!” She retuned with a wooden hairbrush, which she gave me twenty whacks with before forgiving me for my little outburst and snuggling down for the night.
Side note: Hitting people with that bear falls into a certain category of bad behavior, along with picking on Mila Kohl: I know it’s bad, I get corrected for it all the time, but there’s just some insatiable desire in me that prevents me from ever being able to stop doing it. Both activities are just so satisfying. Mila is probably fortunate that she has never been in the same place as me when I had that bear, or else I might have clobbered her to death with it if the power of these two tempting misbehaviors combined. 0_0
Pandora and I also shared a more serious scene later on in the week, in which I was much more vulnerable than I had previously been in any of our kink interactions. I was worrying about something, like I am known to do, and I was feeling detached from my D/s dynamics back at home. I was generally a bit moody and out of sorts because of it, and felt a little less than secure. Company was arriving soon, and I wanted to be perky and cheerful for them, but it was kind of a struggle to get myself back where I belonged. I talked to Pandora a bit, and she asked me rather straightforwardly if I needed a spanking.
Yes. Yes, I did.
There’s something particularly comforting to me about that phrasing as a way to initiate a scene, especially if I’m having some sort of emotional situation. It’s largely about semantics. “Do you need a spanking, Alex?” makes me feel instantly taken care of. I think that the question format of this is particularly pleasing to me because it requires me to openly admit to what I need and desire in that situation, and doing that often clears my head and gives me focus (as well as being a lovely way to guide me onto the path of active submission). There’s also a feeling of some level of concern for me: there has never been a situation where someone that cared about me asked that and I felt that it wouldn’t have been perfectly acceptable for me to say “no” if that wasn’t actually what I wanted (although me not wanting to be spanked when offered is usually a sign that I’m either horrendously overtired, drunk or need to be taken to the hospital). The similar question: “Do you want a spanking?” does much less for me as a positive trigger because it feels very casual (“Hey, wanna get spanked? Cool.”) and because it just seems like a very obvious question. Am I awake/sober/healthy? Then probably, yes, I do. “Need” is a word that can be a bit loaded sometimes. There’s a large part of me that doesn’t want to admit to needing anything, but if someone else brings the word up first, it feels good to me, like it’s been made acceptable for me to have needs. I understand that this is a very complex breakdown of a simple sentence, but these sorts of things are interesting to me. I’m curious if any other bottom-types have similar thoughts on these sorts of phrases, too.
I was slightly reluctant to accept, simply because I didn’t want Pandora to feel like she had to look after me, and because my emotional state involved worrying about being a burden to people, but she reassured me and then took me over her lap while she was seated on the corner of the sofa (so it was more of an “in a chair OTK” than an “on the sofa OTK” in terms of positioning and I tried to relax myself. She spanked me with an atmosphere that felt corrective but not chastising. It was quite spot on for the headspace I needed: I didn’t feel like I was being treated as though I’d done something wrong, but I did feel disciplined, as in I felt like I was existing in the comfortable space of being given the necessary structure and care. It was one of the rare moments where I felt as if I could understand the difference between “discipline” and “punishment”, even if I never grabbed onto it enough to properly articulate it here. Physically, the spanking was appropriately thorough. Pandora used her hand throughout, but still produced some squeals and gasps. I didn’t feel a need to struggle, although it was firm and did hurt. I just felt a safe calmness, and the feeling of my internal centering being restored. When she finished, we hugged and I expressed my gratitude. It had been lovely and kind of her. 🙂
That night, I got spanked one more time, although not by Pandora. She did, however, totally set it up. The company that arrived that evening consisted of Nimue Allen and Thomas Cameron, coming to spend the night so we’d be able to get up early and start shooting the next day. I had made it obvious to Pandora that I was interested in potentially playing with Tom before we shot together (I like doing that, in general, if it’s possible, and I’d seen a lot of pictures of Tom that had sort of piqued my interest). She then suggested that I might need to be spanked again later in the night when my comments got slightly inappropriate later in the evening. This was largely just used as an initiating device: the spanking that I got didn’t really feel disciplinary. It did feel quite good, though, in a painful sort of way. I went over Tom’s lap while Nimue and Pandora watched, and he spanked me quite firmly with his hand, including spanking the entirety of the backs of my thighs. He used his hand effectively, and it hurt a lot. I wasn’t sure exactly how it was going to go, but it ended up being a very fully formed scene: he kept going at increasing intensity until I broke past whimpering and into sniffling and moved into proper crying. That was a fairly rare thing: outside of a video, it’s rare for someone to make me cry the first time I play with them (legends of me crying every time I get spanked are gross overstatements). I think that it worked because there was no expectation set that this would happen. Very often, when someone sets out to make me cry, they are not successful. It jinxes it. This time, it just happened, and it felt right and good.
Afterwards, there were, of course, cuddles.
|Dear Pandora, I stole this off your blog. Love, Alex.|
This seems like a very good place to wrap up this post, as the next day we shot, and that will be a whole other thing to talk about.
Following our POV adventures, we shot a film that satisfies my fondness for cuteness and the ridiculous. It’s a girl/girl pajama scene between me, Zoe and a giant stuffed bear. When I first saw that this giant bear existed in the studio, I knew that I wanted to lie over its lap. This is my brain we’re talking about. That should probably be a given. I like bears a lot, and I love stuffed animals, and there’s also this:
This is a page from the children’s book “The Lonely Doll,” which I discovered at the library when I was a young girl. It was the very first visual representation of a spanking that I ever saw, although I knew that I was obsessed long before that. It’s been a very poignent memory for me, and on some level, I always wanted to get “spanked” by a teddy bear.
In the film that we did next, I got my chance for that! Some people think that this is a bit weird, but it’s also gotten a lot of positive attention, so I guess I’m not the only one who really likes it.
We filmed a girl/girl scene between me and Zoe, where, as tends to be the case in scenes between Zoe and I, she is my peer and kind of a bully. We had a pajama pillow fight, and then I made fun of her giant bear (very uncharacteristic of me, obviously fueled by jealousy). We fought a bit, and she forced me over her lap and then spanked me, then went off and obtained a hairbrush which she also used quite thoroughly. At the end, she had me lie over the bear’s lap, and she set it up so that it looked like the bear was spanking me. It was full of win.
I really like filming with Zoe. She’s incredibly creative, and her bullying and tormenting me is, well, pretty hot. It was a very good scene.
The next scene that we shot was another domestic one, in which I looked rather young indeed in a primary school uniform, and then I changed into PJ’s. I was unfamiliar with this sort of uniform (a one piece, gingham dress) but it looked very, very young. This is unpublished, so there will be less about that one, but here’s a still that John put on his blog:
|Yay, nightshirts and scrunchy faces!|
We then had lunch and took a little break before moving on to do more exciting adventures in me getting spanked. The next thing that we filmed was a two part school-girl film, which was a lot of fun. The plot was somewhat complicated, and it involved Zoe supervising me in detention (since she was a prefect and had to learn about how to properly beat awfully behaved girls) where I was being punished by Paul for being the worst exchange student from the US ever, and having stolen a bunch of “supplies” from the faculty Christmas party. I got to be kind of a little bitch in this scene, which is exciting. Paul responded to this by being truly antagonistic and mean. It was a different attitude than a lot of school films I’ve done, where the disciplinarian is meant to simply be a very nice person who happens to have to beat me. I felt like in this scene, we actually fought. At one point, he said “I don’t like you at all, Reynolds,” which is an attitude that felt really, really right for the scene, but I understand is delicate territory for some viewers. That made the scene appear very delightfully dark and non-consensual, and I adored that. I really like doing dark and kind of awful scenes with people who, in the real world, are lovely and close to me. The spanking hurt a lot, too, because at that point I was pretty toast from the previous few days, and I’m pretty sure that I broke into tears at one point (I haven’t actually watched this yet, largely because I’m concerned that it is going to make me miss Paul a lot and I’ll feel suddenly sad). The scene ended with me being put in the corner, which was possibly the worst part of the scene because in an unheated building in the English winter, corners are cold and miserable places. Once I’m cold and sniffling, Mr. Kennedy took off to go (I don’t remember where) and left Zoe in charge of me, with instructions to punish me again if I dared to move. I’m sure you can’t imagine what part two of this video is. 🙂
|Paul is WAY too happy about the fact that he’s about to beat me in this photo. I’m not sure what I’m doing with my face. I possibly laughing at him. 😛|
|At some point during filming, I defiantly shoved a bunch of stuff and ended up throwing Paul’s glasses on the floor. Oops. Even bratty-awful Alex had to apologize for that.|
Once the second half of filming that was done, Zoe and I did another girl/girl scene together, which was pretty much one of the best spanking films ever made, I’d imagine. It involves me being a nieve, American Girl Scout attempting to attend a Girl Guides meeting and instead getting horribly tormented and molested by evil, awful Zoe. It gets kind of sexy (although not blatantly sexual) and has some hilarious lines in it. Plus, we look so cute:
We were meant to do a judicial caning scene after this, but I was exhausted and tired and just didn’t have another full out beating left in me at that point, so I asked if we could do something else instead, about which everyone was extremely understanding. What we ended up doing instead was very lovely: a sweet, very consensual domestic scene between me and Paul. My smile in this photo is genuine: I felt very contented by this. It seemed like the perfect end to the day:
That’s the end of the story of this shoot, finally. I have many more adventures from England coming soon, though. I want to briefly thank John (The Chief) for the fact that I cribbed about half or more of the photos included in this post directly from his post on the same subject. I appreciate your sharing, and having good photos of me. 🙂
Before I go on to my next post, I want to address a few things. First of all, I have been pretty busy and frequently out of town, so apologize for the lapses in posting. I’ve been toying with the idea of putting my UK stories on hold and just writing about BBW, but I’ve decided to work harder at getting thru each bit the way that it happened. Also, I wrote this entire post while on the plane to New York, but I was unable to save it (since the plane was without Wifi) and ended up losing all my work, so I’ve been kind of pissed about that and avoiding rewriting. Still, time to move forward!
When I left off, we’d completed our first three videos of the day, and after lunch, we moved on to film a pair of short, straight-forward films on the infinity curve. In case you don’t know what an infinity curve is, it’s a big, white space with walls that curve in such a way that it looks like you’re sort of floating in space and that it goes on forever. I’d actually never worked on a real one before (only a seamless backdrop) so that was kind of neat. The scenes that we shot were both school scenes, and they’re very austere, so the background works wonderfully for them. The first scene was a school gym class style scene, which I loved the hell out of. Added to the list of things I didn’t know before this trip: you’re supposed to wear regular underwear beneath the navy blue gym knickers. This was not what I would have expected, but it was cool with me. Anything that involves more underwear works for me! The panties that I wore underneath were vintage and very delicate. I’d never seen anything like them before, but I liked them right away.
|It’s hard to see the pattern, but it’s pretty 😛|
Like I said, the scene was very straight-forward. There wasn’t really much of any story: just me getting strapped in a very austere setting. This is something that I don’t do a lot of in the films that I tend to do in the US: things that are very to-the-point, and that point is me getting whacked. This stripped down nature, plus the fact that the scenes were shot in a dreamy, blank background made it feel like we’d simply stepped into one of my fantasies and I hadn’t bothered to make up the rest of the details, so they were left out.
It was awesome.
The next scene that we did was very similar: it was the same setting and same sort of situation, but this time, it was a school scene. While all the school girl stuff is a big fantasy for me, the English version of things has always held a very strong appeal. I got to wear a tie (which I’ve never gotten to do in an American school film) and I liked that quite a bit:
|This is a photo of me being pleased about my tie.|
The scene itself included me being bent over one of the desks from the school set and getting caned and precious little else, and it felt so potent because of that. One of the resulting images from it has become one of my favorite “Alex getting spanked” photos of all time:
It’s very much a photographic representation of that part of my kink. This was also the first time I had ever been caned in England: the first time I visited I was spanked plenty of times and hit with various objects, but I never got the cane. This event pleased me quite a bit: it just seems like something “right” to go to England and get beaten with a cane, like that’s something that every spanko bottom should get to do at least once in their lives. I’m also pleased that Paul was the person who gave me my first caning in England, as he’s gone on to become someone very special to me. Fortuitous how that worked out. 🙂
Once we finished that video, we then went on to shoot photosets, which is one of my favorite things to do. When I was just a consumer of spanking pornography, still photographs were the main thing that I was interested in. They feel artistic and creative, as well as open-ended in a way that lets the mind wander in delightful directions. Because I started out my modeling career simply being photographed, it’s also something that I feel more confident doing. We shot several sets, all on the infinity curve, because it was just that cool.
In one set, I got to wear an actual English nurse uniform (although I’m not sure if it’s modern or not? I’m somewhat confused on that). It’s super different from anything that I’ve ever seen in the U.S. Usually nurses just wear scrubs around here, and there’s nothing attractive about scrubs, at least to me. This involved leggings, though, and they were tight enough that you could see my underwear through them, which makes for a win in my book.
|Thank you for spanking me, Mr. Osborne!|
In another set, there was more caning, of course, because one can never have enough of that! Zoe had to help me with the “suspender belt” (garter belt) since I’d never really worn one before, but I discovered that I’m actually quite fond of them. Less pulling up stockings, more having something to frame my ass and make it look even rounder!
The next photo comes from a set which was cute and sweet, and which I like a ton. Pink bow + snuggly spankings = happy, contended Alex. Here is a photo to prove it:
|Whenever I see any one of these photos, I think “Oh! That one is my favorite!” until I get to the next one, which also becomes my favorite.|
The final set that we did at the end of the first day of filming involves me looking very young and sweet and Paul coming in to be all scary and terrifying. I kept insisting that he was a very bad man for beating such an innocent looking girl as myself. 😛
|Yeah, having the same problem, because this one is also my favorite.|
Once we finished shooting and we got everything cleaned up and packed away for the day, we drove to a small grocery store to get some supplies (read: alcohol) for the evening. Zoe once again demonstrated her very impressive patience when I wanted to get some chocolate but didn’t know what any of it was. She walked thru the entire candy aisle explaining things to me and helping me figure out what stuff I would like. She then bought me my first ever Easter Egg. Now, we obviously have Easter chocolate in the US, and we have a lot of candy that is shaped like eggs, but we don’t have the exact same thing as they do in England. In England, Easter Eggs are big, foil wrapped chocolate eggs with something interesting inside them, and I guess they’re sort of a tradition. Zoe and I got two, and some pink fizz (I think that the name of that is pretty self explanatory, right? Pink sparkling wine) and planned to have a picnic with them in our room later that night.
We then went to a restaurant near our hotel, where I had to take a very long time deliberating over what I wanted to eat again. I’d like to say that I got better at this as my time in England wore on, but I really didn’t. Even once I knew what I liked to eat, I still had to think about it for far longer than I should have. Dinner was very enjoyable, though. It mostly involved Paul, John, Zoe, the cameraman and I chatting about all sorts of industry related topics, including a lot of the history of the various sites that film in England. We stayed there for a long time, and I felt relaxed and happy. At one point, Zoe and I went to the restroom (in a pair, as girls do) and when she turned on the sink to wash her hands, she sprayed water all over herself. She then attempted to dry the front of her jeans using a hand dryer. I took a photo of this, because this is the kind of stuff that I absolutely dig about Zoe. She’s goofy and ridiculous and I simply cannot get enough of her.
After we finished at the restaurant, we walked over to a pub and had a few drinks. I will not say anything about anyone else (although John was pretty open on his blog about the fact that he his fair share to drink) but I was very responsible. It was also just a very nice time. I find going out for drinks in England to be more fun than it is in the US, but that may be because I live in South Dakota, where nothing is particularly exciting.
Once last call had been completed, we all wandered back to the hotel, where Zoe and I went on to eat chocolate and drink wine the pink fizz before falling asleep.
Morning came, of course, far earlier than I would have liked it to. Mornings are a real problem for me. I’m just not cut out for them. Sleeping until 1:00 makes me happiest. This is obviously by no means practical in any part of adult society, so I adapt and deal with it. But when Zoe’s alarm went off to summon us to breakfast, we unanimously decided to text the guys and let them know that we were going to sleep in. Besides, I didn’t want to see Breakfast Lady again, anyway.
We then returned to the cold… I mean, to the studio, where we began my fourth consecutive day of shooting, this time for Triple A. The day began on the infinity curve again, with a sort of straight forward, introductory spanking.
|Fun fact: that t-shirt is the one that I was wearing the very first time I got spanked, when I was eighteen. Nostalgia central!|
It was a pretty nice spanking, and a good way to warm up for the day, so I was pretty pleased with it. When that was filmed, we moved on to start shooting some POV scenes for John’s new site: POV Spanking. This stuff was a little bit more challenging to shoot, as it felt very unnatural to me. The idea of POV (point-of-view) is that it appears like the person watching the film is seeing what he would actually be seeing where he the one giving the spanking. This makes for a lot of non-traditional filming. I had to talk directly to the camera without hearing any lines back, and that just felt very awkward and difficult for me to time. I’ve been told that I did a pretty good job, though, so I hope that’s the case. We shot a number of these scenes, experimenting with different positions and implements, as well as filming styles. I urge you all to go check out the clips if that’s something that you’re interested in. 🙂
It’s getting late, so I’ll continue this story in the next post.
I’ve covered an entire day! Winner! 😛
When I last left off in the tale of my adventures overseas, I’d just been picked up at the airport upon my return to England from a brief stay in Holland. I’d been greeted by Paul Kennedy (of Northern Spanking) and Zoe Page (who is a different person than “Zoey” who has been mentioned in a few older posts). The three of us were going to go by car up to Derbyshire, where we were going to meet John Osborne and do two days of shooting: one for Northern and one for Triple A. It turns out that Zoe had been feeling sick earlier that day, but had gotten enough rest to feel up to coming along despite that. This was the first time that I’d ever really gotten to ride in a car in England, and I found that kind of excessively exciting. I was very aware of how different certain things were. I was pretty fascinated by this stuff, but I also tried to keep this at least somewhat under wraps: I didn’t want to be “that girl” who comes to a foreign country and marvels at every dumb little thing and annoys everyone around her. Still, I liked riding in the seat where I’m usually driving (they let me sit in the front ^_^) and noticing the different wording on signs and such things. I was particularly amused by a series of signs that listed the cities we were driving towards and included “THE NORTH.” I can’t exactly tell you why this made me giggle a lot, but it did.
We stopped at the first service area that we found to get something to eat, since I was pretty starved. I there encountered a minor problem: I didn’t know what the fuck most of the stuff on the menu was. I was a matter of things having different names combined with not being sure how similar food items would be to what I was used to. This lead to me asking about eighty questions, throughout which Paul and Zoe were surprisingly patient. I had originally been slightly intimidated by Zoe, since I had seen her be pretty terrifying on film before meeting her. I was glad to see that in real life, she was sweet and awesome, and my rival at being a goofball. We related on a few things and giggled quite a bit. Then we got ice cream, which is instant happiness for me. I was pretty happy with my life, and instead of feeling worried like I had upon my first arrival, I felt excited about whatever adventures were in store for me.
After dinner, we got back in the car and drove the rest of the way there. I discovered that I’m not fond of the roundabouts system: it makes me a little bit queasy. The ride didn’t seem too long to me, probably because I was very contented, even though I was much quieter than I usually am because I was still adapting to my surroundings. Eventually we arrived at the hotel where we would be staying for the next two nights: it was a small and quaint bed and breakfast. The caretaker greeted us and showed us to our rooms and then asked us some questions about breakfast. I basically just agreed to everything that she said, because I didn’t actually know what a “full” breakfast entailed and I didn’t want to look ignorant. Then we went up to get settled. Zoe and I were sharing a room, and I thought it was super cute, even though it was a bit cold.
|Zoe in our quaint little room 🙂|
They had left us a tea set which I found excessively adorable:
|In case you cannot tell from my lousy photo, the mugs have cats on them.|
We then went to meet John and chat in the other room. We talked about the studio where we’d be shooting, looked at some content that John had shot there previously on his computer and just chatted a bit while we had a glass of wine. I was wearing my bunny pajamas, which Paul pretty instantly decided he wanted to use for a film that we’d be doing the next day. This pleased me greatly, because I’m a little obsessed with my bunny pajamas. Eventually I got tired and Zoe and I retired to bed.
The next morning we got up and packed our things for the day, then met the guys downstairs for breakfast. We were a little bit late. That’s what happens with girls (read: Alex) in the mornings sometimes. :/ The woman who ran the B+B (who from this morning on was referred to as “breakfast lady”) brought out our plates. The plate was filled with stuff that I wasn’t really expecting. I ate all my meat and some toast, and then sort of picked at the rest of the stuff. Eating beans at breakfast wasn’t really all that appealing to me. There was a big pile of mushrooms on the plate, and I’m super-deadly-allergic to mushrooms, so I refused to eat anything they had touched out of fear of going into anaphylactic shock, which is generally not how I like to start my day. And since I hadn’t asked for anything otherwise during the conversation with breakfast lady where I agreed a lot, my eggs were served with uncooked yolks. I know that this is simply me being fussy, but I just won’t eat eggs that aren’t totally and entirely cooked. I’m tremendously stubborn, because I think they’re gross. Serious_Face once refused to let me get up from his table until I’d at least tried one, and I sat there petulantly for three hours until he gave up and beat me instead (still better than the eggs). Fortunately, no one at this table wanted to waste the entire morning watching me not eat, so we told breakfast lady that we were finished. She was not pleased with me, and gave me lots of dirty looks for not eating her breakfast. We all found this infinitely entertaining. After a quick visit with the fat, hotel cat named Monty and a brief incident in which John hit a trashcan with his car while trying to backup, we were on our way to the studio.
Once we arrived and unloaded at the studio, I became aware of it’s primary feature: it was cold. I don’t like to be cold. (Question: why do you live in South Dakota, then? Answer: have you seen how many things that I don’t like but do?) Fortunately, Zoe was basically the best ever and made me tea approximately every 20 minutes to keep me warm.
Once set up and makeup were completed, we got to filming the first scene. It was between me and Zoe and filmed on a stable set that included several bales of hay. This hay got everywhere, and it’s actually STILL in my hairbrush, but it looked awesome and was kind of fun to romp around in.
Filming with Zoe was interesting because most of the scenarios we were involved in were written so that we were peers and Zoe’s character wasn’t so much of an authority figure over me as she was just a bully. This was a fun and refreshing change of pace for me. Also, Zoe is really hot. And she’s very creative within a scene: I was immediately taken aback by how quickly she came up with ideas of new directions in which to take her bullying and bossing. Plus, she was great at spanking. This scene was actually my first riding crop scene (I’m pretty sure, anyway, and certainly my first on film) and I liked it quite a bit: stingy and whippy without feeling like any other implement, in particular.
The second scene that we did was similar in terms of character relationships: Zoe’s character was kind of an awful bitch and I was a goody-goody and a bit of a nerd. That obviously worked well for me, because that’s sort of me in real life :P. This was set in a school room, which made me very happy indeed.
The desks in the school set were covered in graffiti which kind of fascinated me, especially because a lot of it had slang on it which I didn’t recognize. I then got a vocabulary lesson on various ways to call people a slut in England. I also couldn’t help but add to the vandalism a little bit:
|Add that to the list of “bad things that I did and got away with!”|
And I added a little love for my bestie:
Our third scene was a very traditional and straight forward, bedtime punishment scene that Paul did with me. There isn’t actually anything that unique about it, but it’s probably my favorite scene that we shot that weekend (honestly, it’s probably among my favorite scenes I’ve done on film). This is because it appeals to a lot of things at the center of my kink. My character was genuinely a good girl, but she was clearly quite far out of line this time and had gotten herself into big trouble. There was a domestic setting and the inclusion of my cute pajamas, which are both good things in my book. The spanking was primarily OTK while on a bed, which is my personal favorite spanking position, and the more severe stuff which followed was given with me lying over pillows, which is a very familiar position for me, and one that I find very emotionally comfortable. And I got hit on my thighs.
|I stole this photo from John’s blog, because it’s awesome.|
All of this plus Paul’s attitude in the scene fostered a lot of vulnerability in me, and I just dove into it. I let myself get really worked up and I either cried a little or came very close to it (I don’t remember now). When it was finished, I felt very genuinely cozy.
|I’m possibly smiling more than I was supposed to be. 😛|
I know that I’m only half way thru a day of shooting, but I’m going to stop here and continue on in the next post, because I have approximately 87 things I need to do before I leave for BBW. So. Many. Adventures. More posting soon! ♥