This post is, as my holiday and special occasion posts tend to be, slightly belated. Oh well! Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Blogland!
St. Patrick’s Day is a holiday that I primarily stopped celebrating after I graduated from college. In Los Angeles, I first lived in an extremely hispanic neighborhood, then in Chinatown. Not a lot of Irish going on in those parts. I also greatly decreased the amount of getting excessively intoxicated that I was up to after graduation, and what kind of fun can be had on St. Patrick’s day without getting totally plastered?
The answer is spanking fun. The whole thing started with a shirt that scotchgrove got me which reads “Spank Me I’m Irish.” To get the question out of the way before I get into it, I’m only a quarter Irish. The rest of me is English, Polish and Panamanian. I’m still Irish enough to get spanked for it, as far as I’m concerned! This is my second spanking related t-shirt. This one, however, is plain looking enough that scotchgrove encouraged me to wear it in public. I set my mind on doing so.
On Friday I had the day off from work. Malignus left me with a list of things to do, which I affirmed that I would accomplish. I then took a nap (because my sleep schedule had remained disturbed) and when I got up and got ready, I decided it would be a good time to take some photos with the t-shirt and a pair of St. Patrick’s Day panties that I picked up. I set up my laptop’s camera and did a mini photoshoot in the bedroom by myself. I then figured out how to make a photo collage online.
Shortly after I completed this, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find the UPS man standing there with a very long box. There aren’t nice things that come in boxes like that. Besides, scotchgrove had been threatening me with more murder-presents (horrible implements as gifts) for a while. The title of this post gives away what was in said long box: it was a sjambok of my very own. It was hard to be appreciative.
Now, as a general rule, I don’t talk about disciplinary things on my blog unless they’re part of a larger point. This is because I don’t want to glorify my bad behavior (or sometimes even share something like that publicly) and because discipline is a very private and personal part of my life. I’m going to deviate from that standard for a bit because this story is entertaining and very worth sharing.
Imagine that you’re a girl in a D/s or DD relationship (perhaps you needn’t imagine at all!). Now imagine that you’ve just received the worst implement imaginable as a gift when you were at home waiting for your partner to return from work. You have a set of things you are expected to get done. What would you do?
If you have half a brain and don’t like getting hit with sjamboks, your response would probably be something along the lines of “get my chores done before doing anything else.”
scotchgrove described the situation the best when I told him ex post facto: “For such a smart girl,” he told me, “you can be pretty stupid sometimes.”
I figured I could spend more time on the internet and talking on the phone and doing other unnecessary stuff before I needed to get everything done. It’s not a good skill to have, but I am kind of a pro at hustling chores out at the last minute.
|That’s pretty much me.|
My confidence got the best of me and I ended up wasting the day away. I was still at the grocery store when Malignus got home from work. Going to said store was the first thing from my list of chores that I had done all day.
On the way home, my brain could pretty much be documented like this:
My powers of deduction and ability to predict events were rather flawless. Upon my return home, I promptly confessed that I had not completed my chores, and Malignus promptly provided me with clearly required discipline using (SURPRISE) my brand new sjambok.
To my credit, I lay still through the approximately 20 strokes I received like a boss. I guess that’s not really to my credit: it’s not that hard to submit to something when you know that you were REALLY dumb and REALLY deserve it.
None the less, I was clearly extremely contrite when my correction was complete:
Meanwhile, Heather and I were inspired by my little photoshoot and decided to do something that we’d long talked about but never actually done: start making videos. Heather went out and got us matching green panties. I dug out all our green implements. We both found green t-shirts. We had a plan and we were ready to execute it the next day.
On St. Patrick’s Day proper, we filmed a series of three videos that have our “signature” lighthearted, friendly nature to them. We’re still getting used to making videos, so there are some imperfections, but all in all, I think you’ll enjoy them. Here they are:
I want to add that this is my first experience uploading things on spankingtube. I was pretty intimidated because I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about people being assholes on that site, but so far I can’t complain about how we’ve been received. I’d be down with higher ratings on my videos, but I know that they aren’t perfect either.
Note from the future: I don’t actually support a lot of what I said in this post anymore. There are A LOT of signs that my relationship was unhealthy that can be seen here.
For the past few months, I’ve been working on a particular skill within the realm of submitting to spankings. I’m very, very good at taking hard spankings with the right atmosphere. The atmosphere, however, has always been highly important for my success with these things. I generally experience these things as if I am being “guided” to a particular headspace and then kept there. I think this is partially because my early spanking experiences were highly directed and I never learned how to create a headspace for myself and partly because when it comes to physical things, I’m far better at passive submission than active submission. Recently, we’ve been working on my ability to give myself over to a hard spanking without direct assistance.
It is way, way more difficult than it sounded to me in the beginning.
No atmosphere means no phrases of comfort or reaffirmation, no “good girl”s, no questions that focus my mind on submission like “to whom does your body belong?” or “do you want this spanking?” It turns out those things go an extremely long way towards creating a submissive headspace for me.
It also means no warmup. This is the biggest difference between the kinds of non-punitive spankings I was used to getting and the kind that I’ve been getting recently. A warmup eases me into a scene both physically and mentally. The mental side of it is what’s the most important for me. It gives me time to accept the fact that I’m being spanked and slowly start giving myself over to the spanking, suspending my sense of self preservation and surrendering my free will for the time being. It’s like slowly inching forward to get wet in a lake before going swimming (this analogy is particularly effective for me because I have a strong fear of water so preparing to submerge myself is far more mental than physical, but I’m sure that it will make at least some sense to others). You take one step, then another step, then another and at first every step makes you gasp from the cold but eventually, you put your head entirely under the water and then you’re ready and can swim for however long you want.
Without a warmup and with few words of guidance or correction, I’m more like a cat who has just been dropped into a full tub for her bath than a swimmer slowly preparing to enjoy the water. The first smack hits my bottom and I pretty much immediately start crying out, rolling back and forth on Malignus’ lap, yelling in the style that Ami would call “like a dying monster” and being entirely incapable of keeping position. This is relative to my normal ability to be extremely still: I’ve seen other girls who simply have to be held down and pinned in place to take a spanking, and recently, I saw one of my friends climb over a couch when her arms were being held down and she was trying to escape swats. The logistics of that maneuver still befuddle me. To my own credit, I will add that I’ve never put my hand back during a spanking, that I’ve never gotten off the Top’s lap, that I’ve only kicked a Top in the face twice and that it’s been over three years since that time that I broke a lamp. Basically, I’m not horrible, but I try to cling to my resistance as much as possible and relaxing and giving myself over to being spanked isn’t the first thing on my mind. In fact, instead of thinking about how much I want to be spanked and how I never want it to end, I find myself latching onto thoughts of how it’s too hard, it hurts too much, I can’t be still for it and I want it to be over. Not very productive.
|That’s my brain, basically, when I’m not doing things right.|
I’ve been working on this for a long time, and that’s not to say that every spanking I receive is done in this method and intended to work on this. Malignus had told me that I’d been making progress but I personally was getting frustrated with myself: I knew what things I should be doing during a spanking and I just never brought myself to do them.
Last week, we obtained a new implement. Peachy Keane sent it to me as part of a gift box. I’ve talked about Jenny before: the wooden spatula that Malignus loves and most girls hate. Here’s a photo of Jenny, in case anyone wasn’t sure what it looked like:
Ben is about 1.5 – 1.75 times as thick as Jenny. This was EXTREMELY noticeable the first time I was spanked with it. Jenny was my “warm up” (this was quick and very firm) and then he started to hit me with Ben. I kicked and bucked around and screamed and could barely be kept under basic control. I’m pretty sure that the spanking ended earlier than intended because I was taking it with so little grace and dignity. But geeze! That thing is HORRIBLE. It’s the epitome of an awful spoon (you can tell because scotchgrove calls his “the perfect spoon.” )
The other day, I got into a mood and I started having a really awful attitude while Malignus and I were trying to get things done in a limited amount of time. I’m really ashamed of the way I acted. I was scolded about my attitude and just a minute later, he asked me something and I responded rudely and immaturely. He then started to scold me very, very harshly. I snapped out of my funk immediately and began to cry guiltily. I was suddenly aware of just how badly I’d been behaving. A minute or so later, he called me into the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed holding Ben. I felt a mix of terror and relief– despite my extreme dislike of that implement, I knew that I deserved to be disciplined for my behavior and I wanted him to spank me very hard. Once I had bared my bottom and gotten over his lap, he gave me another stern scolding and then did just that. It felt as though he really laid into me with it (I say this in non-concrete terms because the way that I experience pain during a disciplinary spanking is different than usual and often much more severe). There was no denying the fact that he spanked me very thoroughly, but because of my mindset at the time, I lay quite still and did nothing but cry submissively into my pillow. The spanking finished with corner time followed by a long, comforting hug and a chance for me to behave better. I spent the rest of the afternoon focusing on being cheerful and getting things done, and I was successful at both.
Later, when we were driving in the car to go out to eat, Malignus noted that I had been very still for my spanking. It hadn’t even registered to me that I had: I had been focusing on other things. This was important for me because it had reminded me just what I was capable of. When I want to, I can endure anything. This had stopped being a reality for me when I had continuously failed at my earlier attempts to fully submit. That night, Malignus gave me a bedtime spanking with a different spoon. My bottom was still sore from my discipline earlier that day, but I know he didn’t spank me as hard or with as fast a pace as he usually does. Still, I was able to channel the same feeling of wanting to be spanked and I successfully gave over to the spanking. I was very proud of myself, indeed, and Malignus told me that he was proud as well.
|This post has too many words in it! It needs one of these!|
Since then, I’ve only had one other spanking, which was also with Ben. I took that one similarly well. It’s exciting to feel like I’m on a roll and finally mastering something and making real, measurable progress.
Shortly after my sjamboking, ellee and YoggSothoth (who I shall now refer to as YS to save time on typing) got up and I started hanging out with them more. ellee and I were going to start coloring, something which we’d been looking forward to for a long time, when we heard that people were going outdoors to do outside spankings. This sounded like something that we wanted to participate in, so we found our shoes and jackets. Unfortunately, I had previously been wearing jeans. I packed them because I figured that jeans are a good thing to wear out in the woods. I forgot one key detail: this was a SPANKING party. (See also: my feelings on pants.) Because of this, I had decided that I was only going to wear panties on the lower half of my body for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, it’s winter and it was cold outside, so I had to put something on, so I settled for my Bambi fuzzypants. I also had the difficulty of having a long coat: Malignus says it makes me look like a crazy lady, but I argue that it’s warm and when you don’t wear pants, you need all the extra warmth you can get! When I reached the log which all the other bottoms were bent over (and some were already getting spanked!) I realized that I would have to leave my coat off.
Getting spanked while over a log in the woods was my first real interaction with a couple of the tops who were there. The swats hurt a little bit, even over my pants, especially because it was cold and the tops were using paddles and straps and such things, but mostly, my reaction was to laugh, because it was super fun to be getting spanked in a row with a bunch of other girls in the middle of the woods. I was also right next to ellee, and we were holding hands some of the time. Fun!
At some point while this was happening, Malignus started messing around with a little sapling that was growing in the ground near the fallen tree we were all bent over. He uprooted it (it still had a pretty complete root system) and directed me back into position. I was seriously cracking up about the idea of getting spanked with an entire tree. I was surprised when he hit me: I figured it was going to be a light and playful swat. I guess “light and playful” and “entire tree” don’t really go together. (Arguably, “light and playful” and “Malignus hitting Alex” don’t really go together most of the time, either.) Anyway, it hurt a lot. It was the thuddiest thing I’ve ever been hit with, which is really not surprising. He gave me four or five hard strokes while the other girls looked on in a combination of horror and amusement. I still have a bruise from that tree.
After beating me with an entire tree, he pulled a fairly thick and intimidating looking switch and gave me about ten strokes with that. The fact that I had my only switching experience on a cold bottom and thighs in the middle of the woods after being hit with a tree doesn’t really allow me to give a fair and balanced opinion of it, but I did get over some of my terror regarding getting longer switchings in the future. I did scream my head off into the woods, though. He then gave another girl three strokes with it (which she later described as the most painful thing she had experienced in her life that far!) and then gave Megan a few. Megan might have even less of a sense of self preservation than I do: she opted to pull her jeans down to get the switch. 0_0
We then went back up to the house and ellee and I got to work on our coloring. This was interrupted by YS giving ellee a strapping, and later, by him doing the same to me for the first time. Getting spanked by him was pretty exciting. It’s rare that I meet someone whose Dominance I immediately want to respect, but I felt that way about YS. I felt like calling him “Sir” almost immediately, making him only the fourth person I’ve habitually used an honorific with, ever. When I got in position for him to spank me, he told me to ask for it (I’d just seen the way that ellee had done this). In most circumstances, when someone other than Malignus gives me an order (outside of things we’d discussed for a scene) I get all scrunchy faced. I might even respond with “don’t you fucking tell me what to goddamn do!” But when YS told me to ask for my spanking, I didn’t even hesitate before saying “Please spank me, Sir.” It’s rare but lovely to find someone whose Dominance inspires me, and it made playing with him very enjoyable. He spanked me quite hard with a London Tanners’ strap. It was lovely.
Later, Malignus took a nap, YS went off to smoke a cigar with another Top and ellee and I were left unsupervised with our coloring. As I previously mentioned, ellee is a doctor. One of the things that she brought with her was her prescription pad. Ever since I moved from Los Angeles, I’ve wanted a pet. Specifically, I want a bunny. I wanted a cat, but I knew that would never happen, so a bunny seemed like the next best thing. I was totally in love with Ami’s bunny, Tomato, until it died.
|RIP Tomato 🙁|
I happened to know that ellee had amazingly adorable bunnies that were full of love and cuddles, and that one of them licked her face and cuddled her and stuff. We’d been endeavoring to get me a bunny for a long time, and we’d come up with what seemed like a perfect plan. ellee would write me a prescription for one. She got out her prescription paper and filled it out so that it was super official. She prescribed me one mini-rex bunny rabbit (live) for cuddling, with one refill (so I could have two! Bunnies are best in pairs). She signed and dated it and everything.
Earlier in the day, ellee had her doctor stuff out and was looking at Malignus’ eye (which was adorable, because she kept jumping up and down with excitement about it) and had also tested some of my reflexes and found that some were hypersensitive. When Malignus got up from his nap and ellee and I presented him with the prescription, she started with this information. She said a few serious doctor things, and then said something about scientific accuracy and peer review. Then Malignus looked at what the prescription was for and got immediately grumpy. ellee and I were pretty much rolling around on the ground laughing. We couldn’t let it go and kept saying things about how I was going to get a bunny and it was going to cuddle and love me, and finally, Malignus grabbed ellee by the arm and lead her towards the bedroom. While he was arranging things on the bed so that he could give her a spanking, she hid in the closet. It was a mini, half sized closet, so Malignus didn’t even think to look there when he turned around and discovered that she wasn’t there. He advanced toward me with “the look” on his face and demanded that I tell him where she was, but all I could squeak out was “she’s not here!” He turned to go look for her upstairs, but ellee was laughing too hard in the closet and gave herself away (which is good, because I would have eventually had to tell on her, and that would have been sad!)
|Artistic rendering of ellee hiding from Malignus in the closet|
Anyway, he found her, pulled her over his lap and spanked her very thoroughly, until she was saying she was sorry and and apologizing for misusing her medical privileges and I’m not sure what else. For a second, it might have seemed that I had gotten off free, but Malignus informed me that he wanted to wait until I had healed from my earlier spankings (including the sjamboking, the tree-ing and switching) before he gave me mine. I was very 0_0 at that news.
I’m not even halfway through telling the stories of the first full day at the cabin! I haven’t even gotten to 4:00 PM yet! This is going to be a long series of posts. Stay tuned! More tomorrow!
Extended Title: Chapter 1: In which I travel to my first spanking party, arrive, meet friends, settle in and get beaten with a sjambok.
Well, it’s been a full week since I last posted. Due to the circumstances, I don’t feel all that guilty about it.
On Thursday, I got sent home from work because I was coughing too much. This didn’t exactly bode well for a girl who was supposed to be heading to a cabin in the woods the next day for a spanking party, so I spent the majority of the day and early evening resting. Eventually, Malignus woke me up because I had procrastinated doing anything involving packing for the trip and we were leaving in less than twelve hours (which I cannot say he was overjoyed about). I hustled through the stuff that needed doing, then we went back to sleep for a few hours before we left. Unfortunately, I was too excited to sleep. This came back to haunt me later.
Eventually, Malignus woke up, a few other things happened and we hit the road. The drive there was not a lot of fun. I was tired and nervous and a bit cranky, and when it was my turn to drive, I had difficulty with the fact that I was driving stick, which is something that I’ve never gotten particularly good at. We eventually arrived in the town where the cabin was located, but had trouble finding the cabin itself. We ended up in an old graveyard at one point, which didn’t help to calm me down at all.
Finally, we arrived. I was incredibly, incredibly nervous. My hands were shaking. I walked in the doorway to see an extraordinary amount of alcohol on the kitchen counter, two scenes in progress and a lot of new faces standing around talking. In reality, none of that stuff is all that scary. At the moment, I was petrified. Pretty much all that I could get to come out of my mouth was “Yes, Sir” and “No, Sir” to Malignus and “Hi” to everyone else. I went into our bedroom to discover that MissbehavinMegan, who organized the party, had gotten me a present:
Question: was the primary purpose of obtaining this gift for me to irritate Malignus?
Answer: probably, yes. But I benefit from his unhappiness!
When I first got to the cabin, Megan was off doing something else, but once I finished unpacking our stuff and she finished doing that, I got a drink into my system and had some “alone time” ( ^_~) with her, and suddenly, I felt perfectly at home and friendly. The next few hours were a fun-filled blur. ellee and her husband YoggSothoth were delayed in their arrival, and I had tried to stay up and wait for them, but in the end, I asked Malignus to wake me up when they arrived. That happened around three AM, and I instantly regained my spunk when I saw them. I’m pretty sure that the moment we met was the moment that ellee and I became best friends forever. She also had a present for me, which filled me with mass amounts of glee:
All in all, despite being tiring and scary, it was a great day. I knew that the party was off to a very good start indeed!
The next morning, I woke up and followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen. I guess a few other girls woke up earlier than I did and cooked. The only cooking I did during the entire trip was sandwich making, which I was strangely okay with. Once in a while, I guess a break can be nice. Right after breakfast, Malignus and Megan were taking a run to the nearby town to get a few things from the store that had been used up already or forgotten, and I came along. I said that this was because I needed to make sure that they got the right kind of butter for me, but my motivation could be more plainly described with the words “YoggSothoth mentioned to Malignus that they should pick up some capsaicin because we ‘forgot’ ours and I wanted to do everything in my power to ensure that this pattern of ‘forgetting’ continued.” You’ll be happy to hear that I was successful in my mission.
After I saved everyone’s life by ensuring this, I got myself into what one might call a “situation.”
One of the implements that was available for use at this party was a sjambok. I’m scared of those. Double, triple scared. I’m especially scared because I’ve seen photos and read stories about them. Because I have absolutely no sense of self preservation whatsoever and I love to actively seek out the things that terrify me to further my submission/satisfy my curiosity, I asked Malignus to hit me with it. Remember that there have been no stories of me being spanked yet this day. This was the way that I started my play for the day. For being such a smart girl, I can be pretty stupid sometimes.
The first thing I can tell you about sjamboks: they are big. They are really long and they are super thick. They are flexible. It was kind of like my most feared cane (the nylon one) on an overdose of PCP.
I remember when I thought that this was a really big implement:
Here’s that spoon next to the cricket bat (which you will hear tales of later) and the sjambok.
|The tape measure is extended to 44 inches. This photo belongs to Malignus. The bat belongs to TNSpanker. The sjambok belongs to Latte (and in hell!)|
After I asked to be beaten with this horrible thing, Malignus marched me down to our bedroom with a horrible, sadistic grin on his face. He got far too much enjoyment just from holding the sjambok. His face was positively lit up with glee. He had me bare my bottom and lay over pillows and then, with very little warning (let alone warming up!) he hit me with it.
How can I describe it? Was it the worst thing I’d ever been hit with? Yes. By a lot? Yes. Was I just psyching myself up into believing that? I don’t know. I’ve certainly had things which looked worse afterwards. The individual weals were thicker than anything I’ve ever had before, though, rather raised, and were hard underneath. He gave me five (I believe) and then told me he was doing the last one two handed. I was crying and having a hard time holding still, so I asked for a moment before he did that. He agreed, but gave me two that way as a result. One of these was on my thighs. The other was higher than the others, and where I least expected it. I nearly experienced Sudden Butt Death, but somehow survived. 😉
|This looks nowhere near as bad as it felt!|
The results? Sjamboks are bad and no one should buy them. So much hurt!
Chapter 2 out of many will be posted tomorrow. (I know this for a fact: I already wrote it!)
I haven’t been online for a few days. I’ve let messages sit in my email and fetlife inboxes. In fact, until last night, I hadn’t so much as touched my laptop for 72 hours. Now, that’s unusual. Why? Because, first of all, I’m addicted to the internet. Secondly, I love my laptop. It’s the first computer of my very own that has actually worked well. My first two computers (“Lappy” and “The Craptop” respectively) could never do anything right pretty much ever and were in and out of repairs all the time. I bought this machine in 2007 and have never regretted it. With the exception of the power cable that died while I was at my mother’s house over Easter last year and had to be fixed with tape and later replaced and the keys that are missing from my keyboard from over use, nothing has gone wrong with it in the past five years.
|I had trouble color correcting this photo. My computer is actually white and not gross looking.|
This means that my dear Shenandoah Puff Octopus Prime (who still has a shorter name than my legal name!) has never spent the night in the shop, and therefore, the only time I’ve gone this long without using the computer since 2007 was either when I was in the hospital or when Serious_Face grounded me from my computer for four days because I said that I was more interested in looking at this than listen to him talk more about the differences between Greek and Roman coinage. (Men in my life are always over reacting!)
Also, while we’re on the subject of SPOP, this is what the front looks like:
What has been keeping me away from my beloved? I’ve been working (at my job) quite a bit recently, but I’ve been sleeping poorly and constantly feeling run down. I’d come home from work or wake up in the morning and want to do nothing. I spent my free time this weekend entirely lying around and watching TV with Malignus. He even surprised me and came to pick me up from work and take me to go watch a movie and I was like “Just take me home for bed! I am going to die! My legs are going to break off at the knee and that would be sad!” (which made me feel like a total cuntmuffin but was absolutely the truth.)
I felt icky and gross, but I had not yet reached the point of True, Undeniable Sickness®: I still wanted to be spanked. So yesterday, I asked Malignus to spank me before I headed to work and then eagerly climbed over his lap. He spanked me with his hand, which does not mean that he went easy on me. I love hand-spankings because they’re at the very core of my kink and they feel so close and connecting, but in a lot of situations, one sacrifices the amount of hurt for that comfort. Except with Malignus. When he wants to, he makes a hand spanking hurt more than many other people’s best efforts with a hairbrush. This was what happened yesterday: he spanked me crazy hard and fast and left me crying out and gasping. When he stopped, he told me that was my warmup. I had a very scrunchy face. He then did the same thing to my thighs, and told me that was the warmup for my thighs. I was already on the verge of tears (which is really not surprising considering that he’s made me cry with a single swat from a dishtowel) when he directed me to get up and get over the bed. He then proceeded to give me a very quickly paced caning, covering both my bottom and my thighs, which left me crying very hard indeed.
When I sat up next to him to hug him, though, he started hitting the front of my thighs with it, which is a very mean thing to do. I think that the main reason he’s so crazy about hitting the front of my thighs is because he gets to look at my sad and pathetic face while he’s doing it, and because it hurts so much, it’s EXTREMELY sad. He started hitting me a bunch and I sat there crying and sobbing and doing what Ami calls “screaming like a dying monster.” He then stopped and I finished my crying and he would start again to make me cry a bit more. He then gave me the most difficult of instructions ever: “Don’t cry.” He returned to caning my thighs (they weren’t full strokes, mind you, but the amount of sting was ridiculous) and I tried my best not to cry. It didn’t last long, though, because Malignus collapsed on the bed and literally rolled around laughing. Apparently my sad face while trying not to cry was the saddest he’s ever seen me, and it filled his sadistic, little heart with such glee that he was “happier than he’d been in a long time.” We will eventually be recreating this on film for your viewing pleasure. I know it’s been a good scene when it ends with me crying and him grinning uncontrollably. It just makes the world feel right.
I don’t like going to work on the weekends, but the day went by very quickly when I was covered with welts and bruises. I felt warm and safe and loved. That said, impact play actually CAN’T cure all problems (WHO KNEW?!) and about halfway through my shift I started coughing and sniffling. By the time I got home, I felt about half dead. The mystery of why I’ve been so run down was finally solved: I was slowly but surely getting sick.
It’s actually good timing: I’m going away this weekend, so this means that I’ll be better by the time I leave and I won’t be likely to get sick again while I’m there. More details on where I’m going coming soon.
For now, though, I’ve been spending my time coughing and snuggling in bed with my Pikachu. I basically feel like this:
Hopefully, I can get back to my usual posting schedule. If I can stay awake long enough to write.
It’s been about five days since I last posted. That’s unusual for me! I love blogging and aspire to do it every day, if I can. That said, I’ve been a busy, busy girl.
In case anyone hasn’t heard me talking excitedly about it recently, I’m moving to South Dakota soon: in fact, I’m leaving Los Angeles in less than two weeks. There’s an awful lot to do, getting ready to move halfway across the country, by car, to a different climate, after having lived in the same place for two years. My time has been pretty divided between productivity: packing, sorting, cleaning, organizing, preparing and enjoying the time that I have left with my friends out here. As I’ve said before, they’re awesome people who I am going to miss a great deal, and I’m very glad that I’ll be visiting them frequently.
Thursday was my last munch with the Pasadena Roses and Thorns. Their December 2010 munch was my first public kink event of all time, and I’ve really enjoyed all the relationships I’ve built there. It was a fun but bittersweet evening. Maybe I cried a little bit over it. Maybe. Everyone knows, Alex never cries. 😛
This weekend, I got a lot of “to do’s” crossed off my list, and I got to spend quality time with a lot of friends. This included some of the best kind of time: time spent across a lap.
On Friday night, I went to Fetnoir’s “Procrasta-ween” party at Threshold with Maddy and her Daddy, Sir Siq. Sir Siq has become my unofficial protector within the local scene: I *can* take care of myself, but sometimes, having a 6’4″ man behind me is a comforting thing, especially when I’m prancing around a dungeon in something skimpy and ridiculous like this:
The party was very small: there was a larger event going on at a different play-space that night. Still, the people in attendance were good people, and three can be a party of itself. We had some snacks and hung out a bit, because Sir Siq and I were basically going to die of hunger when we arrived. Then we went into a black light room and Maddycake and I danced around for a while. Sir Siq was dressed as a soldier and had two airsoft guns with him as part of his costume. Have you ever been shot with an airsoft gun before? I had, in passing, over a layer or two of clothes. Mostly, I’d only been grazed with them. Like most things, airsoft guns hurt a lot more when you get hit with them directly on your bare bottom.
Sir Siq drew a target on each side of Maddycake’s butt and had her bend over a bench in the private room we were in. Then he shot her directly on the first target. Then she exploded.
Not literally, of course. She just freaked out, jumping up and shouting and hopping around. It took coaxing to get her back down for the other side (including promises that I believe have not yet been fulfilled) but he eventually took the second shot. I stood back and watched her freak out and complain of the extreme hurt. Have you ever heard of the term “morbid curiosity”? I’ve never understood the evolutionary purpose of such a thing. Anyway, I’ve got a bad case of that. “I tried this thing! It totally sucked!” my friends say and I say “OOOOH! WILL HE DO IT TO ME?!”
A few minutes later, I was the one with the targets on my bare bottom. Being shot with an airsoft gun is the strongest example of pain-lag that I’ve ever felt during a scene. I’ve read descriptions of people having a full second or two of lag behind the impact and full experience of pain from a caning, and while I agree that there’s a secondary pain which is much worse than the primary in those cases, it’s never taken all that long for me to experience it. With the airsoft gun, it took at least three seconds. I had long enough to stand up and look at Maddycake with one eyebrow raised, because I didn’t feel anything really. Then all the sudden, pain appeared. It felt like a hard cane stroke, only instead of being a line of hurt, it was concentrated into a dot of agony. It developed into a little welt that looks a bit like a bug bite. Then, I got back in position and he shot me on the other side. The second of anything is at least twice as difficult to relax through, and I did a good effort at stoicism but totally squealed when I got hit this time: before it even started to hurt. I’m not about to do this all the time, obviously, but it was very cool to find out what it was like.
We went and watched a class on Mummification Play (it fit the Halloween theme!) which was interesting. I’m clearly not about to engage in it, but it is always interesting for me to learn the how and why of another kind of play so that I can better know what my fellow kinksters are experiencing.
After the class, the three of us went into my favorite room at Threshold (the one where Princesstoy topped me) so that Maddycake could spank me. She sat down on the bench and I went over her lap, which was very nice: I think the last time I had a thorough spanking while OTK was in September, during this scene, and I am pretty much addicted to that position. Maddycake was dressed as a fuzzy, pink kitten and I had my Pikachu backpack to hug (I avoided putting my face on it because I had makeup on and didn’t want to mess him up) so it was a much more adorable spanking than I usually get. Maddycake also had on fuzzy, pink paws as part of her costume, and between volleys of spanks, she would rub my butt with the paw. Usually, I’ve been rather “whatever” about sensation play, but this was extremely nice. It’s not something I’d want to incorporate into my regular play, but every once and again, it would be super enjoyable.
After Maddycake’s arm got tired (she’s not usually a top :P) Sir Siq took over while I was still over Maddycake’s lap. He stood on the other side of the bench and spanked me with all the implements I had with me and did a very thorough job of it. I tend to talk about how I don’t like playing with non-spanko purists, but he created an atmosphere which worked extremely well for me and he had great physical spanking skill. I had my blue, rubber “running track” paddle with me, and near the end, he focused on using that because it was making the strongest reaction. I wailed and shrieked (because in a dungeon you’re allowed to be noisy!) and in the end, cried (while Maddycake was rubbing my back with the fuzzy paw). I didn’t realize just how much I needed to be spanked to tears right then until I got there, but I was able to let a ton of stress go. When the spanking was finished, I lay in position and hadn’t a care in the world: I just cuddled there feeling happy and content. Sir Siq put my Pikachu under my arm for me to cuddle and Maddycake rubbed me with the paw some more. It was lovely to feel so safe among my friends.
After a bit, I got up and checked out my butt, then we got photos:
Later, Sir Siq gave Maddycake a beating and I helped out: I worked on her butt a bit while he was cropping her on the back and later, I provided banter and under-bus-throwing. It was nice to watch them play, too: they have very good energy in a scene. Afterwards, Maddycake and I had the fun of having sore bottoms together and that’s always a lot of fun. Maddycake and Sir Siq played together until the club was about to close, so once that was finished, it was time to get home and into bed. I had another big day coming up on Saturday… [to be continued, tomorrow!]
I remember my first spanking with a combination of perfect clarity and the fairy tale gloss that comes with having remembered something over and over again for many years: in my case, six of them.
S_F and I had talked at length about what my first spanking would be like. We’d been friends for almost a year at that point, and I knew and trusted him, and in the time that we’d been openly talking about spanking I’d gained a lot of confidence. I could say the word without getting sick in my stomach ; ). We did not, however, set up a date and time for when we’d be having my first scene. It just so happened that on that August afternoon that we were alone in the house, I was feeling well (I’d had some health problems left over from my more difficult years and was often a bit sick back then) and we were both in positive, relaxed moods. S_F determined that it was as good a time as any to give me my spanking.
From the time that I first discovered that S_F and his wife were into spanking, and learned that consensual adult spanking was a real thing, the desperation of feeling that I had an unfulfillable desire was replaced with excitement, but a new concern rose in my mind: what if I didn’t actually like being spanked? What if it was only the idea that excited me? What if the real thing didn’t live up to that which I had so long imagined?
This was at the front of my mind at the onset of my first spanking. I felt like my entire life had, in one way or another, building to this moment. What if I hated it? It had the potential to ruin all those years of fantasy. There was only one way to find out.
S_F lead me upstairs to his study and sat down in the middle of the brown sofa there. I came in slowly and uncertainly, gently closing the door behind me. He beckoned me over to him, and I found it difficult to get my muscles to respond. My heart was beating faster than I knew was possible and I felt a little dizzy. I realized that I had been holding my breath, and I closed my eyes for a second, forcing myself to focus and move forward.
“What is going to happen now, Alex?” he asked me, once I was standing in front of him. His voice was full of confidence and affection, and his tone wrapped me in comfort. I gathered my courage to answer the question.
“You’re going to spank me,” I finally muttered. I played with the hem of my skirt nervously, wanting to get the apprehension that had been building for so long finally over.
“Why?” he asked. I furrowed my brow. I wasn’t sure what the right answer was to that.
“Uh…because I want you to?” I said, trying to make a statement but falling back into a question. S_F nodded.
“Precisely. Are you ready to go over my lap now?” he asked. I was very ready, and I muttered that I was. “Please do so, then.”
Just lying down in position filled me with an immediate joy that I had never known. It was as if the instant that I was in place over his lap, I knew that I was in the right place. Despite the extreme nervousness that I was feeling, I grinned uncontrollably.
S_F flipped my skirt up, and he placed his hand on my plain, white underwear. I lay there for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to relax as combating forces of fear, anticipation and excitement fought in my chest. Then, he began to spank me.
He started firmly, but in a way that was not overwhelming or frightening. As I relaxed, accepting the reality of the situation, the fact that this was real and not a dream or a story I was making up, I realized that the sensation was actually a bit pleasant, and my fears of hating spankings began to leave. After a few moments, he increased the force behind each swat and it began to truly hurt. It didn’t hurt in the way that other things in my life before that day had hurt: other pain, even very extreme injuries that I had suffered, had seemed to pass through me, its acknowledgment entirely under my control. For the first time, I felt present in my body while something hurt, and there was nowhere else that I wanted to be. S_F checked in with me frequently, and I told him that I was doing well each time. After each confirmation of wellbeing, he increased his force and/or speed, making the spanking continue to grow in intensity. As the pain grew, so did my emotional comfort. I felt the strongest feeling of relief that I had ever known. This is finally real, I thought happily. Tears started to flow down my face. A few seconds later and I was sobbing. S_F rubbed my back gently with his left hand and told me that I was a good girl. He told me that he was glad that I was able to let go, and he encouraged me to cry as much as I felt was necessary. I cried and sobbed. It was the beginning of the release of fifteen years (as I remember thinking about spanking from the time I was three) of tension, stress, fear, self-loathing and shame. In a way, six years later, I’m still struggling to fully rid myself of these things, so it was not an immediate change, but the first de-corking of the bottle was a fabulous feeling.
I remember very little else about the actual spanking: mainly, it’s the good feelings, the safety, the self acceptance and the happiness that come to me when I review the memory again. After the spanking ended, I cuddled against him for a long time as I finished crying. It wasn’t a whimpy spanking at all, and I was incredibly bruised afterwards. I wish I had taken a photo, but at the time, the idea that I would ever want to share this experience with someone who wasn’t there at the time was the furthest thing from my mind. I didn’t care about other people. I didn’t care about anything else. I was safe, I was sore and I was tired. I went to sleep after hugs time was over and I slept better than I had ever before.Thus my adventure in Spankingland began.
Saturday as my friend Mori’s birthday. She hosted a party at her home, which was really lovely. Homemade cupcakes and pizza with good friends is always a good combination, and Mori is a remarkable domestic! After eating and socializing, a number of us packed up and went over to Threshold, a local public BDSM play-space and education center. Threshold is my favorite of the play-spaces in Los Angeles because the general attitude is very friendly and comfortable. We met a lot of people for the first time that night, and everyone made me feel very welcome. They also have a “no sex ever!” policy, which makes things more comfortable for me.
I spent the start of the evening just hanging out and chatting: that’s the activity that I’m most likely to engage in at a “dungeon” anyway. There’s a room there which is decorated like a bedroom in a fancy, renaissance (maybe) era mansion, and I enjoy that one the most: it doesn’t have the harsh feeling generally found in BDSM theme-rooms and is just a touch “homey” and therefore comfortable to me. A group of my friends ended up hanging out in that room together and it was really enjoyable. After a while, I asked my friend PrincessToy if she would want to try topping me. She knew all the basics and had expressed interest in trying it before. She agreed, and I bent over the padded, synthetic leather bench with my skirt lifted.
The first part of the scene was way up there in terms of ridiculous spankings I’ve participated in. It was still fairly far behind the scene in which a friend spanked me with a bunch of celery sticks, or the time when my Pikachu slipper flew off and broke Serious_Face’s lamp, but it had classic and hilarious banter. I haven’t had a lot of chances to be spanked in a light-hearted group setting, and I find that very fun. There’s an aspect of performance to it: my reactions to the pain take on a silly tone, and I find myself squeaking, squealing and laughing instead of sniffling and sobbing.
|Yes. These slippers.|
PrincessToy spanked me with my new textured spoon and it really does have a unique feeling to it. I would recommend that you check out your local Asian food market, if there is one in your area, because that’s a pretty cool implement. She also spanked me with the Pokepaddle, my original hairbrush from back in the day, an assortment of her leather toys, one of her hairbrushes which has an awesome thud to it (I want to track onedown for myself) and “The Evil Stick from Hell,” which is a heavy, hardwood paddle that is about three inches across and eighteen inches long. If that thing hurt as much as it did when a brand-new spanker, who was trying not to be too rough due to the atmosphere and our relationship, spanked me with it, then I’m horrified as to what it would be like in the hands of an experienced sadist. It might violate The Murder Rule. It is, most certainly, Unacceptable.
After a ton of witty banter, Mori decided that Princesstoy was going to give me her birthday spanks. The girl clearly needs remedial counting lessons! I got at least two times the 28 swats I was due! At one point, a creepy creeper came into the room and acted as if he was going to get in on the action, but he was promptly told off and left. During the telling off, though, we took a break and I checked out my butt in the mirror. I’ve ceased to be as much of a magic marker as I used to be: it only took me six years! There was a time when a spanking of that intensity would have left me bruised, but that night, it was only a reddish pink. After all the creepy was taken care of, I got back in position and we went back to spanking. The conversation was very different than what I usually get during a scene: “Name a Sanrio character after every swat!”, “How many kittens do you want, Alex? I’m going to give you one spank per kitten!” and a rendition of the Pokemon theme song all contributed to my hysterical laughter.
|I believe in being honest all the time, so I answered “90”.|
At one point, Princesstoy changed positions and put her hand on my back, holding me down as she spanked me and my entire demeanor changed rather instantly. It was pretty incredible to me how such a small gesture had such a large impact on my headspace, but I instantly felt very cozy and relaxed. With that element of calm suddenly in place, I became aware of a desire that had been building behind the scenes for quite a while: I wanted a spanking that left me in a calm and comforted headspace. I had never had one such spanking until I met with Malignus: all my previous spankings had been very adrenaline oriented. Sometimes, especially during bedtime spankings, he spanks me with an even rhythm and a slower than usual pace. I wouldn’t say that it’s a gentle spanking (for I don’t believe the man is familiar with the concept of “gentle” :P) and it certainly still hurts, but it brings me to a headspace where the fact that it hurts is totally irrelevant and I simply feel warm, cozy and safe. The whole “subspace” and “headspace” thing is, for me, still not largely understood, but I’m sure it has something to do with that. Anyway, I’ve recently had a lot of hard, cathartic spankings, but none that gave me that mysterious feeling that I choose to refer to as “being in my Pokeball.”
Because I’m awesome at communicating what I desire and Princesstoy is pretty much the greatest service top I’ve ever met, I was able to instruct her in exactly how I wanted to be spanked. The emotional side of things was obviously very different, but the physical side was exactly what I’d been craving and it relaxed and calmed me enough that I simply didn’t care about a lot of concerns that I tend to carry around with me. I ended with a floaty, peaceful feeling.
The rest of the night was a lot of fun. I was very calm and laid back feeling because of the positive after-effects of the scene. Several of my friends got tied in Shibari ties, since I hang out with a very rope oriented group of people, and while rope-work doesn’t do anything for me on a kink level, I find it very cool to watch and Milk Mage, who did the tying, is very creative at it. I also got to watch MaskofNormality get beaten really freaking hard with the Evil Stick from Hell. It pained me to watch when I imagined myself getting it, but because he’s a masochist, I enjoyed his enjoyment of things.
All in all, it was a lovely night. I’m happy that I was able to go out and have fun with my Los Angeles crowd, even though I got home late and was too tired and busy to head down to Crowe’s Nice Little Spanking Party in Orange County the next day. I hear it was a success and that pleases me.
I also want to point out that despite the fact that it was PrincessToy’s first time really spanking someone, I ended up with a lightly marked and tender bottom the next day! Win!
|Awkwardly taken photo of my butt from the morning after? Who DOESN’T want that! Pardon the fact that there are boxes and suitcases all over the floor in the background: I’m packing.|
Note: This post is really long. I hope you enjoy it anyway. I tend to be a bit verbose, especially when writing recollections. Also, I’m posting this right at the end of Erica Scott’s birthday. Erica is one of my all time favorite people in the scene, and I’ve long admired her writing style, her wit, her perfect butt and, most importantly, her confidence and sense of self. I think the world would be a much better place if it had more women, or people in general, like her in it. She’s the kind of woman that I aspire to be, and I hope she had an awesome birthday and many happy returns <3.
Ok, on to the story!
The day after my shoot with Assume the Position, I felt very sore. My butt was visually healing extremely quickly, but it still had a lot of deep ache from all of the larger wooden implements I was spanked with, and I was a bit swollen and very tender. I was lying on my stomach in bed reading in the early evening when I heard someone coming into the apartment to see my boyfriend, R. Within a few seconds I was pleasantly surprised to recognize who was there: it was my favorite local play partner, J.
J. works with R. and is one of my spanko friends that I met through vanilla channels. While drinking one night, he confided in me that he liked to spank girls and I was more than willing to tell him that I was fond of receiving! Since then, we’ve been getting together for scenes whenever we’re able to. He was out of town for a few months, and since he got back, I’ve had two chances to see him. Both times he spanked me, and both were mild, pleasant hand spankings.
I’ve always called J. my “nice spanker”: we’ve always had a very fun, light hearted energy and he’s more likely to make me laugh and giggle than cry from a spanking. He’s good at what he does, but we rarely play so hard as to leave me feeling sore the next morning. I truly appreciate this variety: sometimes, I just want to have fun. Plus, he’s charming and sweet and he makes me feel mushy inside. My heart went aflutter just hearing his voice in the hallway.
I sort of scampered out into the living room to greet him. After he finished talking to my boyfriend about some work related materials he was dropping off, he pulled me into a hug and lifted me off my feet.
“Let’s go into your bedroom, Alex,” he said. “I wanna see what your bottom looks like after your big shoot.” I agreed. There was no reason I couldn’t show him my bottom in the hallway, but I would gladly head alone into a room with him any time. We walked in and he sat down on the edge of my bed very purposefully. I felt my stomach do the little flip-flop that it always does when I realize or confirm that I’m about to be spanked. Sometimes it’s excitement, sometimes it’s nervousness or fear, but most of the time, it’s a mixture of the two. Generally, I feel nothing but happiness when I have the chance to be over J.’s lap: he’s never disciplined me or given me particularly challenging spankings. Today, though, something felt a little different. My bottom was very sore, and he seemed far more determined than usual. In many situations, that would be called a “bad combination”.
Still standing a bit of a distance from him, I turned around and lifted my skirt, then pulled down my panties. I had told him what implements I was spanked with via email, when I shared my photos with him. He poked the most bruised area of my bottom very firmly, making me give off a sharp “OW!”
|See that bruise? That’s what he was poking!|
“Is that from the wrap on the belt?” he asked. I nodded. “What did you think of it?”
The scene I shot was the first time I’ve played with leather implements in a long time. I’d had a few spankings from Serious_Face with a strap, but that was back in England, over a year ago. The day before was also my first belt spanking. “I liked it a lot!” I told him. “It was sort of… just right. It was an enjoyable mix of sting and a very light thud.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll have to give you a belting someday. Not today, though.”
Oh! I thought. Maybe he’s *not* going to spank me today.
“How does your bottom feel right now, girl?” he asked. He calls me “girl” fairly often. I wouldn’t like it from most people, but the way he says it with his Texas accent just makes me all swoony.
“It’s very sore,” I said, honestly. J. smiled.
“I’ve never had a chance to spank you when you already had a sore bottom, you know.” Usually, in this situation, I’d jump at the chance to ask for a spanking. I had stopped pretending that I didn’t want to be spanked a long time ago. Yet this time, for some reason, even though I very much wanted to be over his lap, I felt the need to stall and to play the game of trying to get out of it a little bit. Maybe it was because I knew I could get away with it. Maybe it was because I’d been thinking about how to be bratty in roleplaying in case it ever came up for a video. Whatever it was, instead of jumping into my favorite position, I pulled my panties back up and turned around slowly.
“The last time you spanked me I was still a little bit sore from visiting Malignus,” I said hesitantly.
He shook his head. “Oh come on, Alex. You weren’t really sore anymore, then.” He smiled, and then said in a fun, playful way (not in a domly, “do what I say” kind of voice): “Come here: I’m gonna give you a spanking.” I shivered a little.
“But my bottom really hurts!” I complained, putting my hands back protectively. It sounded strange and alien to hear that sort of protest in my own voice. I felt very slightly embarrassed by it, but J. was smiling and I knew that he enjoyed this sort of play.
“I know it does. That’s the point.” He beckoned me with one finger. “Come here.”
I backed away a little more and shook my head “no.”
“No?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Alex says ‘no’ to a spanking? That’s gotta be one for the books right there.” I made a scrunchy face. “Alright,” he said, standing up, clearly playing the game. “If you don’t want a spanking, then I’ll go say goodbye to your boyfriend and head home.” He started to walk toward the door.
“Wait!” I cried, worried that he might actually leave. He looked at me expectantly. I suddenly realized that he’d backed me into a corner: I now had to ask for my spanking directly. Usually, asking wasn’t much of a deal anymore. Asking to be disciplined was still incredibly hard (I’ve still only managed to do it a few times) and asking for something like a thigh spanking was never going to become particularly easy, but in general, just admitting I wanted to be spanked had gotten to be fairly routine: during my second visit to Malignus’ place, I asked to be spanked at least once every day. Still, there was something that seemed particularly bitter about asking for something that one had just denied wanting. I swallowed my pride as quickly as I could. “Would you please spank me, J.?” I asked in as confident of a voice as I could muster.
“Oh, you changed your mind?” he teased. I nodded. “Did your bottom stop hurting all the sudden?” I made another scrunchy face.
“I do want you to spank me,” I reiterated.
“You’re sure?” he asked, laughing at me a little. I gave a vigorous “yes!” “Alright,” he said, sitting back down on the bed. “Go get me the spoon you brought back from South Dakota.”
I made this face: 0_0. “WARREN?” I asked with genuine concern in my voice. “Oh, J., you don’t want to spank me with Warren!” For those who are not familiar, Warren is a good sized, weight bearing, sturdy, wooden spatula with a fairly large spanking surface that Malignus insisted I take home with me. It became my sole property after I bled on it, but I tried very hard to get it to remain at Malignus’ house instead of coming home with me. In the end, I lost that battle (as one would expect) and it was sitting in my closet with my other spanking toys. Warren is not a nice implement. It has mostly been used for discipline or for particularly challenging, submission driven spankings: the exact opposite of the kind of spanking I expected to receive from J.
|Warren, like his sister, Jenny, is horrible in every way and will never be loved by anyone.|
“Didn’t I just say I did?” he asked. He was still smiling and bantering. I decided to try one more time:
“But, you don’t understand! Warren is…”
J. cut me off. “One of the three worst things ever. Part of the Holy Trinity of Hurt. I remember, Alex. Go get it for me.”
“What about a hairbrush? I have hairbrushes you never…”
“Spoon!” he ordered, his voice suddenly filled with an authority that I’d never heard from him. In many situations, hearing someone say that word as a command would be simply ridiculous. In this one, my whole body felt like it was turned to jelly. The game was over: I’d lost. I was going to get a real spanking now.
J. is not my Dominant. We don’t have any sort of D/s dynamic. Still, the feeling of his sudden authority wasn’t threatening or uncomfortable. I didn’t feel pressured into something I didn’t want. I felt safe and submissive. I felt a tiny touch of the most wonderful feeling in the world: belonging.
I went to the closet and got down Warren. I handed it to J., and he looked it over for a moment, then slapped it against his hand a few times to feel the weight and speed of it.
“This does seem mean,” he said, friendliness returning to his voice, but with a serious undertone that did not remove my anticipation. He set it behind him on the bed. “Pull your panties down and get over my lap, now,” he ordered. I did as I was told without hesitation. “Good girl,” he said, praising me for my speed in obeying. Sometimes, it makes me feel awkward when someone other than Malignus or Serious_Face calls me that. Here, nothing could have felt more right. I got cozy in my position while he gently rubbed my bottom. Just his soft touch hurt a little bit. I tried to relax and accept instead of letting myself panic at the realization of just how sore I already was, but nervousness was mounting and I could already feel the prelude to tears building in my throat.
J. started spanking me with his hand. It was a nice warmup; firm, but not too painful. After a minute or so of spanking, he spoke to me: “So, you’re trying to get out of spankings now, huh?” he asked. “Where’d you pick that up?”
“I dunno” I muttered, half into the blanket that I’d bunched up near my face. J. responded with a very firm smack to the back of my thigh. “HEY!” I cried. “Treaty line!” I was referring to The International Thigh Protection Treaty, a now extremely outdated document that just about everyone seems to disregard.
“Was that too forceful?” he asked. He sounded genuinely concerned that he might be pushing my limits. I thought about it for a moment. I could ask him not to spank my thighs at all. I had that right, and the part of me that would prefer him not to was no small section. Still, I was really enjoying the way this scene was playing out.
“It’s okay. You can spank my thighs some if you want to.” He signaled his understanding by delivering a few fairly hard smacks there.
“Where did your brattiness earlier come from, Alex?” he asked again, after a few more moments of firm, fairly slow paced smacks.
“I guess I was just experimenting a little bit,” I told him.
“It’s okay to play around sometimes, but you better not make a habit of that.”
“I won’t!” I promised. “I’d only do it if I thought it was okay!” He kept spanking me for another minute. Suddenly, I felt genuine concern. Was I really being scolded? Had I actually been a bad girl? I turned that idea over in my head for at least another minute, all the while receiving firm but manageable smacks to my already sore bottom.
“Hey J.?” I asked when I felt like I had a clear grasp on what my worries were. “Are you really mad?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t want you to go around making backwards progress because it seems fun at the time, but I trust you to know what you’re doing. I’m not angry at you. I’m not trying to discipline you. It’s just a spanking.” There was a pause in the spanking. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
I shook my head “no.” “Please don’t,” I told him.
“Do you not want me to spank you with the spoon? I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want.”
“Are you okay with me crying today?” I asked.
“I am. What I’m asking is what you want, though.” I thought for a moment.
“Okay,” I said, attempting to accept my fate.
“Not good enough,” he scolded. “I’m only going to do it if you want me to. Not just if you’re gonna accept it. If you want it.”
It was a hard place to be. Part of me did not want to be spanked with Warren for any reason, and certainly did not want to get an “unnecessary” spanking with it. My instincts for immediate self preservation wanted nothing more than to say that I did not want him to use Warren on me. I knew, however, that was not the most honest part of me. I was frightened by the idea of how much the spanking would hurt, but waiting beyond that were wonderful feelings. Contentment. Stress release. Safety. Pride. I truly wanted to be brought to the place that I knew a spanking with this implement would bring me, and I knew I’d be horribly disappointed in myself if I backed away from it.
“Please, J.,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster. “I want you to spank me with Warren.” I felt more relaxed as soon as the words were out of my mouth. J. stroked my face for a moment and I basked in the comfort of his touch.
“Okay,” he said firmly. “I’m gonna start now.” I put my face in the pile of blankets at the end of the bed, trying to relax my body into calm acceptance. It occurred to me for a second that maybe Warren was not always all that painful, that maybe it was just particularly well suited to Malignus’ fast, hard, ridiculously stingy spanking style. Maybe it wouldn’t be so…
My train of thought was interrupted by the first spank. Nope! I was wrong! Warren just hurt a lot. Each smack bordered on being intolerable. It couldn’t have been more than a dozen before I was whimpering and crying out. It hurt! Oh holy hell, it hurt. He went relatively slowly and nowhere near as hard as I was used to being spanked with the implement in the past, but each smack still made me feel a white-hot world of pain. Before I knew it, I was freely crying. I started to sob and sniffle. J. put his left hand on my back and rubbed it in a gentle, affectionate circle. “Good girl,” he said. “Whatever you’ve got, just cry it out.” Even though I’d just had a spanking that ended in tears the day before, I found myself deeply appreciative of the chance to cry. I felt safe and warm and emotionally comfortable. My sobs got more and more desperate as the spanking went on. I knew I probably seemed pretty pathetic, but I didn’t care. I stopped fighting it as well as I could and I accepted and appreciated the spanking that I was clearly getting because I was cared about. Still, when J. asked: “Are you ready for me to stop?” my answer was “yes!”
He gave me five more hard swats, then set the spoon down and focused on rubbing my back. “Shhhhhh,” he comforted me. “You’re such a good girl.” After a few minutes, my crying stopped and I climbed up onto his lap and snuggled for a little while, feeling peaceful and content.