Life has been *crazy* recently, so I continue to struggle to find time to blog. I do want to take a moment to let you know that now that the party season has kicked off, I’m getting ready to head to my first event of the year: The Lone Star Spanking Party in Houston, Texas. I’ll be there from Thursday, May 18th – Sunday May 22nd (I’m arriving on Wednesday and leaving on Monday, but these are the dates I’ll be available for fun times!)
While I’m there, I’m booking private spanking sessions as a Top, bottom and switch, plus I’m available for video shoots! I’m happy to do video or photo shoots with private collectors who just want this for their own enjoyment, in addition to with production companies of any size! I’m also available for a variety of other kinds fetish work, although I am now retired from doing any kind of strict bondage following an injury.
I’m also very excited to see a lot of my friends, hang out and do lots of shooting! We’re excited that we get to shoot with Mackenzie Reed for the first time, plus with newcomer Top Miss Elizabeth, as well as with two of my very best friends: Adriana Evans and Ava Nicole.
Adriana, Ava, Paul and I are sharing a room. I think that we’ll be perfectly well behaved and not get into any trouble at all. I’m positive! :3
I’m also going to be running the Newbie Orientation, which is really exciting for me! I love welcoming new people into the scene, and I’m really passionate about making the scene a safe place for everyone.
If you’re coming to the party, be sure to say hi to me! I love meeting people and talking about our favorite subject.
Also be sure to email me at email@example.com if you’d like to book a session with me. You do NOT need to be attending the party to come visit me for a little private playtime!
Lots of other adventures have been going on in my life since my last posting, so I’ll be sure to write a longer post to update you on all that as soon as I can! I do miss blogging: it’s just a struggle to find free time these days. >_<
Hugs to everyone, and I hope to see you in Houston!
Hi everyone! Remember me?
I feel terrible that I haven’t updated my blog in a long time. It’s been far longer than I’ve ever let it go before. I’ve obviously remained active on social media, posting to my tumblr and Twitter accounts regularly with mini updates about my life. But it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything here.
It started out where every day I’d think “Oh man, I never updated my blog!” and then I started adding “Blog post” to my weekly to-do list instead of my daily one. Then, it got to a point where I wasn’t even bothering to add it to the list anymore: I knew I wasn’t going to get around to it.
I’ve been very busy recently, and I’ve had an unfortunate series of issues with my health. At one point, I was convinced that it was something really serious, and I was quite worried about it, to say the least. I’m happy to say that after a long series of non-sexy doctor’s visits and tests, I’ve been able to get things pretty much straightened out and I’m no longer feeling badly or worrying about that.
During that time, I got behind on a lot of projects and stuff, and I’m now working to get myself totally caught up. I still have a few things to do, but it’s a relief to be at least close to the feeling of being on top of things.
Meanwhile, my creative juices have been flowing a lot recently (side note: that’s the dirtiest sentence ever, when you think about where most of my creativity comes from) but I’ve been primarily funneling them into Northern Spanking. I’ve been writing lots of the scenes that we’ve been shooting, and we’ve been shooting a lot recently.
Throughout all this, my poor little blog has been sitting off in the corner, getting no love from me. It’s hard: once I let something go a while, then I just start feeling so guilty about the fact that I haven’t been doing it and that makes me want to avoid it and it’s just a vicious cycle.
But, it’s time to break that cycle and start sharing with you guys again. So, here are a few fast facts:
-For those of you who don’t know, Paul and I got engaged in January when I was visiting him in England. REALLY exciting stuff! I’m just over the moon happy about it. I love him so much, and getting married to him is a dream come true. *heart eyes*
Nothing is going to change in terms of any of my other relationships or my work life when I get married. I’ll still shoot, I’ll still do sessions, I’ll still play with other people, I’ll still have relationships with other people. A huge part of the reason that Paul and I work so well together is because he supports the things that make me happy. I’m just going to have a supportive husband instead of a supportive partner. I’ll probably just be brighter and bubblier all the time.
So, that’s the biggest news! Paul was in England for literally five months this time, so the fact that he’s back now is also pretty big news to me. He got home in April, so he’s been home for a little over a month. I’m getting used to having him back, and it’s been really good to get to spend time together. Our cats are happy about it, too. They really missed him. I’m not even making that up. They love him more than they love me, I think.
There will be posts about other stuff that’s happened since I last posted…last year coming up soon (probably). But tomorrow Paul and I are shooting with Ami Mercury. In case you aren’t familiar with her, Ami is an East Coast based spanking model who shoots primarily with Punished Brats. We’ve got some fun scenes planned for the day. I’ve never had the chance to meet Ami before, so I’m looking forward to that. She’s going to be in town for Domcon, which starts this weekend.
Alas, I won’t be able to attend Domcon this year, as it’s the same weekend as the Lone Star Spanking Party in Houston, which Paul and I will be taking off for on Wednesday. I have a busy calendar while I’m there, but if you’re a Houston based spanko or you’re going to be at the party and you’re interested in having a session with me, shoot me an email sooner rather than later, while there still is a bit of room left on the calendar.
A highlight of this upcoming weekend is the fact that Paul and I are sharing a room with Adrianna Evans and Ally Cakes. Adrianna and Ally have become really close friends of mine recently, but we actually haven’t hung out in the same place since the first time that I met Ally at Adrianna’s house over a year ago.
I’m sure that there won’t be ANY mischief in our room with the three of us in one place, right? Actually, I’m just hoping that Paul can handle the three of us.
I’m looking forward to seeing lots of other friends, doing a bunch of shooting (wearing both my producer hat and my modeling hat) and playing with lots of lovely people.
For a long time, I was struggling with a low tolerance. It sort of came out of nowhere and became a really big problem for me. It was becoming almost laughable how little I could take. But this will be my first party since I’ve pretty much regained that. The only thing that I’ve noticed is that while my tolerance during a spanking is the same as it once was (although I’ll probably never have the same tolerance that I used to have at the very height of my hard play days, since I think that about 75 percent of the nerves in my butt were just temporarily destroyed or something) the pain seems to linger around longer, which I can’t say I mind. There’s something very satisfying about going to bed sore and waking up sore the next morning. My point with this is that it will be nice to be at a party where I can actually play outside of pre-arranged engagements more than just a little bit without feeling totally worn out, although I guess I do still have to pace myself a bit.
I also have to pack tomorrow night after the shoot. I have some super cute stuff for this party (the themes include “soda shop” and “1950’s prom” and I am very well prepared for both of these) and I just need to get it all together. But I just hate packing so much. You’d think that a person who travels as much as I do would be good at packing and unpacking. But you’d be lying to yourself, because I’m still terrible at it.
Anyway, there you have it. A blog post! It’s kind of all over the place, but at least it exists.
I’ll be straight forward about this: it gets harder for me to want to update my blog as opposed to other forms of social media because I often feel like I get way less feedback and interaction here for way more effort. I feel like a big loser saying “please leave comments” but an occasional note to let me know that the people who read this blog aren’t all spam robots would not be unappreciated. 😉
It’s good to be back, guys!
Well, I’m back.
I’m just going to keep talking about what I’ve been talking about here, and pretend like the entire summer hasn’t passed us by. I’ve been very busy recently, but I’ve missed blogging and missed you guys.
So, we were on the second day of TASSP, right?
The second day of TASSP started off with me getting ready to go be a demo bottom for Princess Kelley’s presentation on the different types of spanking. Due to the fact that we both enjoy nudity, I was going to do the sensual spanking part of the demo.
To be honest, I still feel a little zing of excitement when it’s time to disrobe in a room full of people. And there were quite a few people there, all sitting in rows of chairs, waiting to see me get spanked. Some of them were my friends, but others were people I didn’t know or recognize. I really thought about what I was about to do, and how lucky I was that I had the confidence and body positivity to just do this. Like I often do, I imagined telling my younger self about what my day had been like, and thought about how shocked I would have been. I smiled to myself as I slipped my dress off, standing in front of the crowd in just my panties.
Before long, I found myself over Kelley’s lap as she slid those panties down:
And she began to demonstrate a variety of types of spanking. All of them were sensual, and therefore very enjoyable. She spanked me, flogged me, used a riding crop, and did sensual caning:
It was a fun time, and I was reminded of how much I enjoy being spanked by Kelley. Yum.
That day also included one of my favorite events that I’ve ever been to at a spanking party: a giant and well organized school roleplay. I love school roleplays, and those that have a real class sized amount of girls involved are some of my all time favorites. So, I was excited as can be about this. We’d be getting schedules, breaking up into classes and then heading to different rooms to learn different subjects.
I was happy that all the girls from my “girl chat” which had originated after the last party were at TASSP, and I had been pretty forceful about making sure that they were signed up for the school girl event. One of the perks of being a spanking site producer is that I have access to an awful lot of spanking specific wardrobe, so I decided that it would be great to get our group together in matching school uniform. In order to outfit five girls, it made sense to go with a basic color scheme, so that I’d have enough of everything. I decided on white shirts, blue skirts or jumpers (pinafores, for those of you across the pond), blue cross ties and white socks.
So, on the morning of the school roleplay, I met up with Piper, OTKDesire, Elizabella and Zoey so that we could get changed into our outfits. It took a few minutes to try on various clothing options and see what fit everyone best, but we wound up looking super cute, and totally on point as a group of school girls.
We ran into our friends Tattoo Fairy, Princess Flyer and Candy before we headed down to class:
First, we had assembly, where we were scolded about the rules of the school and informed that we would need to listen to all the teachers and hall monitors by Principal Lectr, who is very high on the list of principals with whom I have an inappropriate relationship. 😉 We got in trouble for having snuck in candy.
Then, it was off to our first class, which was drama. I was very much in character as a school girl. I’m not *always* the same when I roleplay, obviously, but my go-to school girl character plays up a few of the personality traits that I normally try to subdue. I’m a know it all, a huge suck up and a tattle tail. I’m also very focused on the academic side of school, and a huge failure at most extra curricular activities (I mean, that one is kinda just true).
So, when we had to get into characters and act things out in class, I really should have been good at that. In the real world, doing improv is literally my job. That’s what I do when I’m in videos and sessions. That’s what good roleplaying is.
But, because this required an Inception like roleplay within a roleplay, I found myself stuttering and unable to come up with anything. I was too deeply into my headspace. Fortunately, I was with Zoey, who is equally a good girl to me (alright, fine, possible more so). The two of us were just shy and quiet together for the rest of class.
The next class was art, during which we were asked to start drawing a picture of “the male figure.” Now, I’m really bad at drawing anything except for cats. So, I decided to draw a male cat. The teacher had been non specific as to what species the male figure had to be, after all!
It got a little bit more complicated when our teacher’s aid, Mr. Whooperine, was called upon to give us a little bit more of a demonstration of the male figure… in real life. Gosh, he has a nice body. ^_^
My enjoyment of this was cut short, though, because the hall monitor appeared and called out my name: I was being sent to the principal’s office. I let it feel real. I let myself feel my heart pounding in my chest. I let myself get worried about what was going to happen and wondering why I could be in trouble.
There were four (I think) different administrators that girls could be sent to, but I found myself in Principal Lectr’s office.
“Young lady, you were registered for class twice, according to my attendance sheet,” he scolded me.
I bit my lip a little. That didn’t sound like too serious of an offense. I was almost disappointed.
It was true, though, that I had my name on the official attendance list twice. It had been Joe’s mistake (that is to say, Principal Lectr’s) and I had pointed it out to him, but he hadn’t fixed it. When I remembered that, I started to like where this was going.
“But sir,” I began, “it isn’t my fault that my name appeared on the list twice! You put it there by mistake, and I was trying to correct you.”
“Are you saying that it’s my fault? Are you failing to take responsibility for your actions?” he asked. The unfairness was making me squirm in the most delightful way.
“Sir, I really didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the one who made a mistake,” I insisted.
“That’s it,” he said sternly, rising from his seat and picking up a mean wooden paddle with which I am well acquainted.
I felt my heart beating fast as he walked towards me with it. It was so unfair. I’m always so good at school, and now I was going to get punished.
“Over the desk,” he told me, tapping the paddle against his hand.
I gritted my teeth and did as I was told, bending over in a way which caused my blue jumper to lift up and expose my white cotton panties.
“Six swats,” he told me.
I held still as well as I could and waited.
Truth be told, it wasn’t a very hard swat. But my bottom was sore and I was in my headspace, so it felt like I was on fire. I let out a cry and wiggled.
The next swat was probably a little softer than the first, but it felt even worse. I struggled to keep my position, letting my back rise a little bit.
At the third stroke, I found myself thinking “Halfway done! I’m halfway finished!” As if it had at some point become a challenge for me to take six medium (at best) strength swats.
But the next three were a challenge. They made me whine and wriggle across the principal’s desk.
When he had finished, he stood me up and sent me directly back to class. I couldn’t help but rub my bottom a little as I was escorted to the room again to finish my lesson.
My teacher made me turn my drawing in to be graded, and I figured that I wasn’t going to get the best marks on my cat picture. We got the drawings back later, and I was pretty pleased with myself, though:
The final class of the day was Geography, which was taught by my friend, Pooka (who is the owner of one of my all time favorite dogs). We were practicing for a quiz by playing a game where we had two teams and had to answer questions from Trivial Pursuit’s geography section.
Our team did pretty well, although we got hung up on the question “What is the only US City to contain a royal palace?” I was thinking inside the box, and couldn’t think of anything that would fit that description. And I got frustrated when we got it wrong.
Shortly after everyone had put in their wrong answers, it dawned on me. Hawaii. There was probably a palace in Hawaii.
And I was right, too, except it didn’t count because it wasn’t my turn anymore. It counted for something less good that I phrased my outburst as “It’s in fuckin’ Honolulu, isn’t it?”
And so, for the second time that school day, I found myself having my uniform skirt lifted for punishment, this time, a brisk hand spanking on my panties. It was, of course, much worse since it was delivered in front of the class, and all my friends.
Fortunately, we won anyway, and got candy to boot.
I was honestly disappointed when the school day came to end. I could have done a full 8:00 AM – 3:00 PM school day with no problem… or even a week of that. But I know that’s not what everyone wants from a spanking party.
I remain forever behind on posting, but hey, at least I’m doing it. Look for more from me coming soon!
My whirlwind of adventures began in the middle of June, when I flew to Dallas for the Texas All State Spanking Party.
TASSP is one of my favorite parties, so I was very much looking forward to it. Packing, however, was a most nerve racking experience. I had to pack everything for TASSP, almost a month in the UK in various weather conditions AND the Chicago Crimson Moon party. I also had various shoots and sessions throughout the course of that time for which I needed specific wardrobe and implements, AND I was vending at TASSP. It was made even more difficult by the fact that I’ve been increasing my fitness recently, so a lot of my clothes had gotten a bit too big, so everything had to be tried on before it could be packed.
I was kind of a mess in the time leading up to leaving. It was just so daunting: there was so much to prepare for. Fortunately, between Paul taking care of me long distance and some really helpful encouragement/limit setting from my FWB Dr Lectr, I got everything done that I needed to.
I bought a new suitcase and a new backpack for my journeys. I like backpacks a lot. I like anything that makes me feel like I’m going to school. To make it even more “me,” I added two keychains that I bought when I was in Japan and had been saving for the past five years, plus a smattering of buttons. This is a throwback to the backpack that I carried when I was really a high school student: the red “DORK” is the same one that sat in a similar position on my high school bag, although I had a far great quantity of buttons back then.
I was also more organized than I’ve ever been before when it came to my travel documents. You might remember my rather traumatic entry to the United Kingdom the last time I visited, so I wanted to not repeat this. So, this time, I was prepared. I had all my boarding passes, a copy of my whole trip’s itinerary, all my hotel information for TASSP, a copy of my passport and print out copies of all my prescriptions all in a plastic file folder, very reminiscent of the one that I had made fun of Paul for having on our first shoot. I guess I’ve grown up a bit in the past couple of years, because instead of thinking it was nerdy, I felt pretty pleased with myself for being so spiffy.
So, I finally left Los Angeles, saying goodbye to Rafa and Z, and snuggling my cats until they were really ready for me to just leave them alone. My flight to Dallas was cramped and delayed, as is often the way, but I arrived safe and sound late on the Wednesday before TASSP.
James and Korey Johnson, two of the friends I’ve had in the scene for the longest, picked me up at the airport and brought me back to their house for the night. We sat down in their living room to talk. Mostly, when we’re together, we talk and laugh. I very rarely laugh as hard as I do when I’m with them, and as usual, we were cracking up about stuff so much that I had tears rolling down my face from laughing so hard.
Besides being two of my best friends, James and Korey are also the keepers of two of my favorite cats, so while we were talking, I was also cuddling with some of my best feline buddies.
And suddenly, it was six in the morning. Oops.
I had sessions the next day, and the hotel was on the other side of Dallas from where they live, so I only got to grab a couple of hours of sleep, a trend that would continue for a while.
I was probably grumpy when I got up and got ready, but staying up with them was so worth it. In the morning, they took me to the TASSP hotel, where I was greeted by Princess Kelley and a few other friends. I had to get settled and changed very quickly, as I had a lot of work to do that day, but I was very much looking forward to catching up with my friends.
I also got to see my roommate, Tattoo Fairy, who is another one of my Southern California friends and a total sweetheart. Because my birthday was upcoming, she had brought me a present! I love Disneyland, and TF and have gone there together twice. The last time we were there I noted a series of collectables that were reproductions of the original souvenirs sold when Disneyland opened 60 years ago. They fit perfectly with the vintage side of my personal aesthetic. I had also mentioned wanting the Winnie the Pooh Disney Tsum Tsum. TF had listened to my chattering about things I wanted, and then surprised me with them. It was seriously too sweet.
I got to see a bunch of my other friends, too, and, of course, play!
I got to catch up with Dr. Lectr, Piper, JC, Zoey, Johnny, OTKdesire, Stonehand, Elizabella and her daddy, Cane Dreamer and Genevieve, Whooperine, Finneous and a bunch of other friends and I met Princess Flyer and Eye Candy for the first. I was originally not quite in the mood to play, but Piper convinced me that we needed to get spanked by Dr. Lectr together, and I wasn’t going to refuse.
She made the right choice on my behalf. I was feeling kind of stressed out from all the stimulus of getting to the party and some running around I had done earlier. Dr. Lectr started lightly and sensually, building up intensity as the heat built in my bottom. He started with hand spanking but moved on to strap us as well. At first I was hesitant about the strapping, my body tensing to resist each rhythmic swat of the thick leather. But before long, I melted into it, giving myself over to the feeling of impact and letting it shudder through my body.
As I let go of my tensions, I found that my stress dissipated with them, and I floated off to a happy place, filled with endorphins. Each stroke of the strap became more pleasurable instead of more painful, and I gripped Piper’s hand tightly. Although I was, near the end, a bit out of the real world, it was still a wonderful bonding experience. I’m so glad that Piper and I have gotten closer as friends in the past year. I’m so happy to have her as part of my scene family.
The theme of the night in Dr Lectr’s suite was TTYL. This is a theme that he invented a few years. Instead of standing for “talk to you later,” in this context it means “tights, thongs, yoga pants and leggings.” I recently bought jodhpurs, and I’ve been enjoying wearing them whenever I get a chance. A while ago, Kelley and I had come to the conclusion that jodhpurs actually are leggings, so I decided to wear this for TTYL. Besides, I was a bit sorer than I would have planned to be on a Thursday after some of my play sessions, and getting spanked on a particularly sore bottom through one layer of clothing gives a little protection, but also a very nice feeling. The slight numbing that the leggings provide reminds me of how I feel when I start to float into subspace, and I think it has a placebo effect and makes me get more endorphins more quickly. After some enjoyable jodhpur spankings, Kelley texted me to find her and we decided to check out what was going on in the other suites.
Kelley and I went to wander and we found a suite where some spanking games were being played. They were in the midst of a serious game of Spanking Jenga. The rules were simple: only the bottoms actually played Jenga, some pieces were marked with a number of swats, and you received that many swats if that was the piece that you picked. Of course, serious spankings were in store for whoever let the tower tumble.
Kelley and I jumped in to play. I took this game very seriously, and did not want to knock over the tower, as seen by my facial expression in this photo:
As the night wore on, I returned to Dr. Lectr’s room to hang out, where I got more spankings (surprise!) and joked around with friends. But eventually, I got tired, and it was time to change into my pajamas.
I don’t remember what time I turned in, but I know I was pretty exhausted by the time I did. And of course, the next day was going to be chock full of adventures, so I snuggled up to my bear and owl and tried to get some zzzzzz’s.
(to be continued)
My fourth TASSP is done, and it was a wonderful time. On the plane, as I was headed to England, I started to think about the past three years of my life in the National spanking scene, and all that has happened since I first arrived at TASSP in 2012.
I remember the overwhelming, full body anxiety I felt as I first showed up at the old TASSP hotel. What if no one liked me? What if I didn’t make friends? Could I really handle a whole weekend full of getting spanked? And play with people I didn’t know yet? Would it be weird to watch others playing? What would the activities be like?
I imagined that, realistically, I was probably going to have a pretty good time. I didn’t imagine that on that day, I was going to meet people who, upon seeing them three years later, I’d run down the hallway to tackle hug, or who would get tears in their eyes when it was time to go at the end of the weekend.
I guess what I mean to say is that I didn’t know when I first arrived at a National party that I was actually arriving at my home for the first time, that I had found a kind of acceptance and a feeling of belonging which had been lacking throughout my entire life.
I didn’t really feel it at that first party. I met people who I really liked, but in the couple of days that I was there and my shy nature back then, I didn’t get to know them that well. I think back on some of the people who I met for the first time there, and I can’t even imagine my life without knowing them. Some of them were people I spent a lot of time with at that party and never stopped wanting to spend a lot of time with. Others were people I only met in passing, but would spend more time with at other parties in the future and become fast friends.
I met someone at my first TASSP with whom it would take years, literally up until last month, for our friendship to properly blossom due to miscommunications and someone negatively influencing our ability to get along. Now, we’re finally having the friendship we should have always had, and that’s an amazing feeling. Telling her that I’ll miss her and that I was so glad we got to spend time together this weekend as I left and both of us knowing that we really meant it, finally, was one of the most refreshing feelings.
I made a friend at that party who ended up doing a lot of really hurtful and destructive stuff to me, but the spanking world can’t always be perfect. I have met people who were just incredibly toxic through the scene, yes, but it’s important to remember that for everyone who has hurt me, I’ve met countless more who have enriched my life and made it wonderful, and those are the ones I want to focus on.
I was a very different person than I am now when I first showed up. I had no idea how much I would grow over the next few years. I was very new to modeling, and almost no one knew who I was. I didn’t really even participate in most of the events for models, although I did do several shoots at that party. I worried that I didn’t fit in with the other, more established models, including some of the people who I now think of as very good friends! In general, I was pretty awkward. I was kind of still in my post-grad years where I wasn’t sure of my identity yet, and I think that the way that I dressed and presented myself suggested that to whoever was looking. I had pretty bad skin still, and didn’t know what I was doing with my hair or makeup in the least. It took me a few more years to figure this stuff out: I’m feeling pretty good about it these days, finally.
I had never switched before, and still didn’t really understand the social parts of bottoming, either. Roleplay and play punishment were still brand new things to me, and I was straight up uncomfortable with the idea of bratting. Asking people to play? That was a little much for me! Saying no to someone who asked me? That also wasn’t happening. I didn’t go to The Dark Party my first year because the idea of possibly witnessing sexual play made me nervous. I don’t remember if there was a little’s party or not at my first TASSP, because if there was, I definitely avoided it. I had not yet embraced that side of myself in the least, and was working hard to repress it.
And now? Look at how I’ve grown! I felt so in my element this weekend, whether I was bottoming, Topping, roleplaying, age-playing, giving a presentation or running an event. Like many people, I had my moments where I got overwhelmed and emotional, but I had my friends there for me, and these problems were quickly straightened out so we could all get back to enjoying the weekend. It’s hard for me to believe that three years ago, I was as meek as I was.
I see these changes in many of the friends that I first met at my first party, too. Years in the scene have helped us to find ourselves, and the friendship and support we’ve found there have helped us to grow confident. We’ve slowly been shaking off the years of shame and repression that we felt when hiding our kinks, and when we could feel safe being ourselves, we’ve truly flourished. It’s a beautiful thing to see.
The scene itself has grown and developed, too. It’s a slow process, but things are growing more diverse and accepting. This party was probably the most diverse one I’ve ever attended. There was a lot of racial diversity, people of a good mix of (18+) ages, lots of both seasoned party goers and newbies, those who were local and those who came from far away, people who are spanko purists and those from the greater BDSM scene who share our love of smacking ass, lots of LGBTQ people. I hope this trend continues to grow. It makes me so sad to think that there are people who worry they won’t be accepted in the spanking scene because of another aspect of who they are.
Dates tend to mean a lot to me, so celebrating my third years of parties by partying hard with lots of amazing people was definitely great. I can’t wait to see what the next three years bring me. I’m so ready.
I’m kind of a season behind on my blogging, so this story isn’t recent, but I enjoy it. I hope you will, too!
In July, after my visit to Denver, my friend Tasha and I drove to Chicago for Crimson Moon. Crimson Moon is a party that I truly love (not like there are any spanking parties that I *don’t* like). It has a very different feel than a lot of other parties. Part of this is the relaxed, casual atmosphere that the organizers’ attitudes lend to the general festivities. Another thing is the fact that Crimson Moon is held in a hotel that doesn’t have large suites, so people tend to play and hang out in a handful of smaller, more intimate bunches. This gives you lots of different rooms to chose from with lots of different energies, which is a big win. It also means that you have the unfortunate situation of not running into people as often as you might want to, or missing someone entirely because you were always in different rooms.
On the first night that I was at the party, I came into a room to find that my friends JC and Piper, as well as a handful of others, were playing in there (in fact, I’m pretty sure it was their room, but I wouldn’t guarantee that). I’m just getting to know Piper, although she seems incredibly sweet, but JC is one of my long time friends, and he’s become one of my favorite Tops. I hadn’t played for recreation yet at the party (I’d done a couple of sessions earlier that day) and I wanted to get going at that: what’s the point of being at a spanking party if not to get (or give!) lots of spankings?! Besides, because of the variety of small groups that I knew I’d be hanging out in all weekend, I wanted to catch JC for some play in case we didn’t get a chance later.
After some hanging out and cuddling, JC bent me over the edge of the bed and started to spank me with his hand. He started out fairly gently, but moved on to start using his hand like he normally does: hard. He gives one of the hardest hand spankings of anyone that I’ve ever played with, which is really saying something! I was really wanting to be spanked, though, and I was particularly happy to be reconnecting with my friend this way after almost six months, so instead of resisting, I felt blissed out. I think I probably cooed as he spanked me. The room we were playing in was busy and bustling, and my friends were probably watching, but I was in the right headspace to not care. Everything in the background melted away, and my only thought was the brightness that I felt with each smack. After a little while, JC decided it was time to move on to another implement (I say this because his hand pretty much counts as an implement in my mind!) and he brought out a pair of new hairbrushes. They still had the tags on and everything! I think Piper had purchased them for him, so I asked her if it was alright if I got spanked with them (as this is something I would have been sensitive about were the tables turned) and she gave an enthusiastic “Better you than me!” JC told me to pick which one I wanted to feel across my bottom.
When someone asks me to pick out a strap or select a cane, I always feel nervous and a little lost: despite the amount of time I’ve spent on the receiving end of these implements, I still have trouble identifying which ones will be meanest based on site. Hairbrushes, though, are a different story. I consider myself a good judge of character when it comes to hairbrushes. I can tell which ones are going to have a deep, burning bite, and which ones will have a lighter, more superficial sting, which ones have a cushioned core that give them a gentler thud and which ones will blind me in a frenzy of smacks that I can never seem to get used to. I could immediately tell that one of the two hairbrushes was decidedly friendlier, so I picked that one. It was a a rectangular “paddle brush” in a reddish colored wood.
JC began to spank me with it, and I began to squirm a bit, wriggling around under the smacks, although they felt quite like I had expected. Smack, smack, smack went the hairbrush. Things grew sorer and sorer with each smack, until one felt vaguely dull and strange.”Are you serious?!” I heard JC ask. I turned around to look. “You broke my hairbrush! This is the first time I ever used it!”
I find it annoying when people brag about breaking canes, since that’s usually a sign of poor technique combined with more force than a person with that level of skill should be using, but with little implements like this, it makes me excited. Ha! Take that, hairbrush! I got you back!Piper seemed to share my attitude, cheering me on and talking about how I’d saved her.
Of course, at this point, that meant that I was in for a dose of the other hairbrush: the one I hadn’t selected because it seemed heavier and more bitey. It was, indeed, heavier and more bitey. I squealed and kicked a bit as he gave me a hard flurry of swats to “reward” for my “accomplishment.”
Breaking things during your first spanking of a party weekend? It’s a sign that things are off to a good start! ❤︎
It’s been one of the longest gaps between posts that I’ve ever had on this blog.
I’m still here, I promise. I’ve just been in a transition period in my life.
About five weeks ago, I left South Dakota with everything I owned there packed into my sedan. From there, I drove to Denver, where I visited with Amoni and shot some absolutely amazing scenes (including two outdoor scenes) for Real Spankings. From Denver, I drove straight through to Dallas, which is the longest stretch of driving I’ve ever done alone and in one go. After a few days of recovery from that, I spent some time visiting with a variety of awesome friends, doing some shopping and eating the greatest BBQ in all the land. I love the time that I spend in Texas. I got to do some filming, too, including stuff for Firm Discipline (still awaiting it’s return to the internet), Amateur Spankings and a few others! Mila and I hung out a bit, too, then I picked her up and we drove to Vegas for Shadowlane. Driving to Vegas was a long and kind of ridiculous process, but it was amazingly fun, too. The whole backseat of my car was packed solid:
We had misadventures, sisterly arguments, played car games, sang along to a lot of music, ate snacks and did other roadtriply things. We also spent a night with Heather Green and her fiance, who happened to be in the area, which was lovely! Of course, I had to get naked in nature at some point during the trip:
After that, we did eventually arrive in Vegas, where good times were had by all. I’m horrible at writing about parties, and I feel like everyone already has a good idea what Shadowlane was like from all the awesome reports that have been posted, so I’m not going to try to add to it. I will point out that I had a wonderfully fun shoot for Triple A while I was there! It had been a long time since I saw John (“The Chief”) and I was very pleased to get to spend time with him again. I really enjoy filming with him for his site because he has a high tolerance for my ridiculous ideas and we often end up making things that are a bit wacky, but very hot as well. To add to the awesomeness, we filmed with Maddy Marks and Christy Cutie as well. These girls are two of my best friends, and it’s very exciting that now we’re all living in the same city. There will certainly be NO TROUBLE coming from that whatsoever! Anyway, during filming we were all in high spirits and I got into one of my brattiest moods ever captured on film, answering back to everything and showing minimal contrition. I shamelessly stole these photos from John’s blog. Thanks, Mr. Osborne!
|Maddy and I wrestling and play-fighting, as sisterly girls are known to do!|
|I finally got to kiss Christy on film! We’ve giggled about doing this for a long time now. We’re dressed this way because we were trying to get ready for a Halloween party, so you’ll probably see this film sometime next month!|
|Naughtiest cheerleaders ever? Check!|
|Question: What do girls do in their school common rooms? Answer: look at each other’s panties, of course! Knowing all three of us, this isn’t even far removed from the truth. ^_^|
The shoot was crazy fun, and we got really lovely content. I’m quite excited to see it released!
After the party was over, we took one extra day in Vegas to walk around on the strip. Mila, Maddy, Christy and I were chaperoned around by Maddy’s boyfriend, Siq. There’s a lot of alcohol available in Vegas, it turns out, and I got..errr…day drunk. Kind of immediately. Before lunch. I’m SUCH A WINNER. Lunch did me a lot of good, though, and we had fun exploring for the rest of the day. The four of us girls were impeccably behaved, of course, and there was no whining, fighting, biting or public spanking of one and other, and I CERTAINLY didn’t make us walk approximately two miles in search of lions that no longer exist. Honestly. I promise.
The next day, Mila and I drove on to Los Angeles, where Mila visited with Raffos and Zeki for a couple of days, including an adventure to Little Tokyo in Lolita attire:
After I said goodbye to my dear and beloved sister and she was returned to Texas, I slowly but surely began the process of getting settled and creating stability. Paul arrived a couple days after Mila left, as we’ve moved in together. I know this is kind of a big thing for me to throw in as a side note, but we’ve both had a lot of changes in our lives recently, and we’ve been building a wonderful life together. Originally, we intended to live Downtown, in the same building as Raffos and Zeki, but we ultimately decided that it was not quite enough space, and a bit too urban for what we wanted and we found an adorable house in the valley. It’s been quite a process getting set up: moving everything from storage lockers, figuring out what we needed to buy and doing so, getting back my dear and beloved cats and getting them settled, cleaning, unboxing, organizing, tracking down and buying new appliances and, perhaps the most daunting task: learning to drive in Los Angeles. So far, we’re both doing quite well with it! There’s been plenty of spanking happening, too, and I’ll tell some more stories about that soon, but I can’t rightfully make a post here without including at least one picture of my reddened bottom, so here’s a teaser for the next post:
|Making a long story short, Bad Alex got me in trouble because she’s a whore.|
Speaking of the next post, I’m not positive when I’ll be able to return to my usual schedule: I don’t have internet at my new house yet. The ISP can’t set it up until October 2nd 0_0. Awful! How will I live?! I’ve written this post while visiting over at R and Z’s place. So, I’ll do my best, but I’m not making any promises!
So, I know that this is entirely out of chronological order, but I made this video blog with Christy Cutie at TASSP and I wanted to share it. The spanking at the end is very playful and not meant to be serious in any amount, or to actually hurt. Here, we share some of our adventures from TASSP.
I only have three more things that I really feel are important to share about BBW. The rest of the party was wonderful, but it was ages ago, and holy crap, really Alex? You need to get caught up. So, here are my final three stories. I’m totally writing this from TASSP right now. My inability to keep up to date with this stuff is OUT OF CONTROL. Additionally, I’m sorry that recently my blog has simply been a series of stories about adventures most of the time, in case anyone finds that boring. Soon, my life will be settling for a while and I’ll get caught up and back to my regular programing. I’ve had really ridiculously low traffic this month, so I’m sorry for whatever isn’t awesome about what I’ve been up to recently. I’m still here, and I’ll do my best to get back to updating regularly and excitingly as soon as I can!
There were a lot of British people at BBW, including a handful of my favorite people. I think it was Richard Windsor‘s idea to have a “Meet the Brits” party. I liked this party quite a bit because various people had brought biscuits and sweeties and other things that I was missing after returning to the US, and I munched on this stuff while socializing with whoever was around. At one point, Bad Alex and I ended up chatting to Mr. Allen again. I mentioned earlier that Bad Alex had sort of punched me on the knee earlier, and it had marked up. As the three of us hung out, I noticed this bruise again. “Mr. Allen,” I kind of whined, “Alex hit me. It left a mark, look!” He looked, and asked Alex if she had, indeed, hit me. She openly and unabashedly admitted to it, and probably included her trademark phrase: “sucks to suck!” As the victim, I was asked what punishment seemed appropriate and I suggested that she should be caned.
“Fine,” Alex said. “But tattletales get double.”
“Agreed,” said Mr. Allen.
Then my head exploded. Where was this rule every time that I did the tiniest little thing wrong and Mila felt it was her sisterly duty to tell everyone she could think of about it? It seemed to me that when someone tattled on me and I complained about it, the response was always “She’s just looking out for your best interest” or “She needs to protect herself.” The unfairness of the universe was overpowering. I probably stamped my foot, but I don’t remember.
Alex got her caning, which was enjoyable to watch. There was some sliver of fairness left in the world, because each of the six strokes obviously hurt, and everything is right when Bad Alex is experiencing something painful as consequence for her badness. Then it was my turn. “This isn’t fair!” I reminded everyone. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Mr. Allen looked at me with an expression that suggested that I was close to earning even more strokes if I kept up my complaining, though, so I bent over the chair. They weren’t hard, full bodied strokes, but they weren’t overly playful, either. And, as the other stories in the previous posts will remind you, I’d played a lot that weekend. I was sore as could be, and each stroke made me whimper and yelp. Near the end of my thrashing probably at the tenth stroke or so, Lucy and Stephen came into the room and sat down at the end of the bed next to us. Lucy inquired about why I was being caned and Mr. Allen and Alex explained it to her.
“Yes, that seems quite fair,” Lucy said.
“WHAT?! Why does everyone think this is fair?!” I protested, making a scrunchy face at Lucy. (My blog doesn’t support me making the emoticon scrunchy face but you’ll just have to imagine it. A lot).
“Mr. Allen!” Lucy immediately called out, “Alex just made a horrid face at me!”
“Did you?” Mr. Allen asked and I nodded pitifully, unable to tell a lie. “You’ll be getting extra strokes,” he told me. In my mind, the amount of extra strokes was four, but it’s very possible it was actually two. My memory can be a bit faulty when it comes to these things, especially as time passes.
It was impossibly hard not to scrunch my face up at this announcement, but somehow I managed, knowing quite well that it wouldn’t be a wise choice. The extra strokes (however many they were) were harder, and I yelped more loudly than I had previously, shuffling my feet and grinding my toe against the floor. This was the first time I’d ever been punished for making a scrunchy face. It was not the last.
|The good and the bad!|
The spanking was brisk, and I was already sore, so I wiggled and squirmed around. When it was done, Rich got me up and got ellee out of the corner and directed us to bend over opposite sides of a small table, where we’d be receiving our canings.
|In position! (ellee is the cutest girl ever to live)|
He then gave ellee the first stroke, which made her yelp. After that, he walked around the table to my side, to deliver my first one. This process was long and very, very anticipatory. Anticipation can be a hugely positive factor in a scene for me, and a lot of the play that Richard and I have engaged in together has emphasized this. The whole set up served to get into my head quite a bit, which seems to be another big factor in the scenes that Richard and I have done. After I got each stroke, I saw ellee’s face as she got hers. We grabbed each other’s hands in solidarity and comfort, and I felt her squeeze me as things hurt.
|EVEN HER HANDS ARE CUTE!|
Eventually, we worked through all the strokes, except for the additional two that I’d be getting. At this point, I was greatly regretting my antics earlier. The caning had been quite hard, and I’d gotten a few on my thighs, making me cry out and whimper lots and lots. I wasn’t crying, but I was quite contrite and well thrashed feeling. The last two really “counted.” This is the way of the world when you earn extra strokes, I suppose. I considered going back to being an excessively good girl all the time, in order to avoid any more of these in the future. 😛
The scene ended with the two of us in the corner, then we had that semi-awkward moment where we broke character, then we giggled and hugged.
|So much sweetness.|
The final noteworthy adventure at BBW took place IMMEDIATELY AFTER THIS, and much running around was involved to get from this adventure the next. The next was the “Adult Speaking” boat cruise, which was really, really fun. We had to change quickly and then basically teleport to the place where the bus was taking us to the dock, except that we can’t actually do that, so we had to run really quickly through a big hotel instead. But it was worth it! It was lots of fun to hang out on the boat, once we all eventually got there.
I like boats. I like boating. I grew up in Southern New Jersey on the coast, extremely close to where we were boating at the time, and I felt very, very at home. It was a wonderful feeling to be able to be being myself, totally and entirely while I was in my home setting. I spent time with each of the people who had come on the boat that was special to me. I had a couple of drinks. I had Pandora take photos of me climbing stairs in my sailor dress:
Then, of course, there was the customary “Drawbridge spanking” where everyone lines up and gets spanked in front of a drawbridge, while everyone in their cars can see us. I was slightly embarrassed by this idea, but I went for it anyway. Joe (drlectr) spanked me. I love Joe.
|This is one of my all time favorite photos.|
That’s really all I have to say about the boat trip. I do want to share one more photo, because I feel that it’s a gem beyond compare. Here’s me and my darling twinsie, ellee, on the boat:
|ellee looks so thoroughly spanked. I don’t look to pale myself!|
This concludes my posting about BBW. Onward to further adventures! Thanks for your patience! I love you all! ♥
Before the party, Mike Tanner had written to ellee and I and asked us if we’d be willing to participate in a sales contest during the vendor fair. Due to our nature as good, helpful girls (captains of the Good Girl Society!) we were excited about a chance to help out and started planning ways to do the best job at this ever. This involved wearing matching outfits, of course, since ellee is my most beloved twinsie and we’re very good at matching. She picked out some adorable pink sweater tops for us to wear with school uniform skirts, and she also got both of us and Beth matching heels that look like bunnies. They’re basically the greatest thing ever created by science (science OBVIOUSLY goes into making shoes. Duh). We got ready and looked incredibly cute, if I must say so myself. In a horrible turn of events, no one took a photo of us. WTF. I don’t even have a response to that. Oh well.
We went down to the fair, where we found out that we were vending for Strictly Spanking, which was kind of an honor since it meant that the organizers trusted us enough to assign us to their table. Miranda explained what we were to do to help the sales and then we got to work, chatting up everyone from friends to strangers, bouncing around energetically, suggesting to the bottoms that the soothing lotion was indeed the most soothing and telling the Tops that they could test evil implements on us. I was bruised and sore from my scene with Stephen just a little while earlier, but I was still full of bounce, so I didn’t really mind the fact that I found myself bent over the front table with my school skirt lifted again, and again and again, often next to ellee (ok, who could mind that?!)
Doing this forced me to be outgoing, which isn’t always my natural state (I’m technically an introvert who learned extroversion, and now I can happily exist in both states). At one point, I re-met someone that I had met briefly at Shadowlane: the aforementioned Mr. Allen. I didn’t remember that I already kind of knew him, but once I made the connection, I realized that I found him very enjoyable and I was happy that he was there. We chatted for no more than one minute before I had a strange, almost out-of-body experience. I heard my voice, as if coming from somewhere other than my mouth, as if controlled by something other than my muscles and breath:
“Would you tawse my hands later? I was told that you’re good at that.”
dlifgdklfgjdjklghodirugy9SU*Efyhtisughxfjkhvdfiougyiny eor8ntu er89yfiseufhisuhvdxjkvhgyei7yeiuwryhoaeiwrhefkuhsiuhidfughISUEhtwioty iweuhreoshvnsdohvdsugheiosugiuefgyhesioufysdhvjkdhvhifxv!!!!!!!111!!1!11one
Brain! I thought to myself as soon as I had finished speaking. Now is not six months from earlier! Now isn’t even six hours from earlier! What’s wrong with you? You can call it morbid curiosity. You can call it a lack of self preservation. You can call it the inability to deny what I want, an obsession with pushing limits, insanity, whatever you want. There’s just a certain… something about me at times like these.
Mr. Allen gladly agreed to introduce me to this time honored practice and instructed me to find him later. I was then swept up in the whirlwind of whatever it was I was doing at the moment and didn’t have time to worry too much about what I had gotten myself into.
As the vendor fair came to a close, we were instructed to walk around and encourage people to come to the table who may not have otherwise. I was feeling pretty good about the work that ellee and I had done. ellee was amazingly chipper and outgoing, and she really kept me at my perkiest as we strived to compete against the other tables. Besides, she looked really good in her sweater. 🙂 Now, I split off from her and went around to talk to strangers by myself so she could cover different territory. At some point, Bad Alex came up and started following me around like a lost puppy. Instead of being useful and encouraging people towards my goal, she started being counter productive “Don’t buy anything!” she told people. “We want them to lose!” “I want to see Alex get spanked on stage”– that was the punishment for losing, and I wasn’t all that concerned about that, nor was I all that interested in the physical prize for winning (a bottle of lotion). I just wanted to be a winner. I can get horribly competitive. I wanted ellee and I to win and that was all I really cared about. I started to get pretty annoyed at Bad Alex, and I insisted that it wasn’t funny. As I took a moment off to socialize with Lucy and Stephen again, she came up and started telling them not to buy anything from me. “Alex!” I shouted. “Stop being such a cunt!”
And that was how in one single motion I found myself no longer on my feet, and instead over Lucy’s lap, getting scolded about how she KNEW that I wasn’t supposed to talk to my friends that way and that such language was most unladylike. She was, of course, correct on both counts. Bad Alex was FAR TOO SMUG about this turn of events, though: a trend that will continue throughout the story of this adventure.
General advice: there are certain words that it’s just not worth saying to your friends at a spanking party.
Soon, the contest was over and the winners were announced, with me and ellee bringing our team to the winning position. There was much rejoicing, and ellee did her patented bounce.
I don’t remember if the next part of this story actually happened in this sort of chronological order, but it seems that way in my memory, so it’s going that way in the post. 🙂
That evening, I was in and out of suite parties, running around, playing with friends and visiting with others. I got to know a few new people and did the sort of stuff I usually do at a party. At one point, I was running around on a mission to find Stacy because she had something that her husband needed, and I ran into Mr. Allen. He asked me if I was ready for that which I was due, and I politely explained that I had to run and find Stacy, then disappeared again. Just seeing him refreshed my memory on the subject that I had previously put out of my mind. Later that night, I walked into a suite in which he was hanging out, accompanied by none other than my worst behaved counterpart, Bad Alex. Part of me wanted to come up with some excuse for why I wasn’t going to get my hands tawsed. I had to go somewhere. I wasn’t feeling well. I had suddenly remembered that I was REALLY REALLY SCARED of this. But I knew I wasn’t going to chicken out. I knew that I could be calm about it. If I wanted to do this enough to ask for it, I wanted to do it enough to go through with it.
Holy hell, I was scared though. I’d heard all sorts of stories and had talked to various people, and everyone said that nothing compared to the pain of that. Nothing. It was the worst. My “big game” that I talk about my ability to take pain is all about spanking. I seriously tear up if someone high fives me too hard. Somehow, though, I agreed that I was going to have my hands tawsed, and some of the process was explained to me. I originally thought that a girl I had just met for the first time, Em, wanted to get her hands tawsed again and was volunteering to go before me, but I later discovered that Mr. Allen had conscripted her to serve as a demonstration. Somehow we ended up in a line with Em at the front, me in the middle and Bad Alex ended up behind me. (Em is extremely nice and I’m glad I got to know her over the weekend, but I feel a bit guilty now that she got tawsed on my behalf! Awww!)
The idea of the three of us lined up to get this made it a lot more comfortable for me, because it ritualized it beyond that which already existed. It was explained that Em would be getting one on each hand and that the Alexes would each get two per hand. The tawse that Mr. Allen had for these purposes was an authentic, old one, stamped with an H for “heavy” and it had clearly been used many, many times before. I shuddered just to look at it. At this time in my life (not at present, any longer) the tawse was the one scary implement that I wasn’t really well acquainted with. There will always be strange new things that pop up, legendary implements, particularly cruel versions of something familiar, but this was all around strange to me, and only accompanied by a whole host of stories. I could see it there, mocking me. I knew what Mr. Allen was going to do to me with it, but I didn’t know how it would feel. I could imagine, or so I thought. My heart pounded hard. I was sweating a little.
Em came forward and put her hand out, supporting it with the other one. She had obviously done this before. Mr. Allen lifted the tawse and brought it down against her palm in a motion that didn’t even look particularly aggressive or violent. There was obviously finesse involved in it, but the thing seemed to be mostly carried by gravity. Em reacted much less strongly than I would have expected, shaking her hand a bit, and exclaiming verbally, but then she swapped her hands and took her second stroke, repeated the same level of reaction, thanked Mr. Allen and then went to spectate. I was trembling as I walked forward to take the position at the front of the line, even though her reaction hadn’t been all that bad. Mr. Allen instructed me regarding how to position my hands, then he said:
“This is going to hurt very, very much. Don’t move your hand.”
There’s nothing like telling me that something is going to hurt to get into my head. Such a simple thing, usually the honest truth, but I have almost no defense against it. It melts my toughness. My heart pounded and pounded. Then Mr. Allen raised the tawse and brought it down on my palm.
Then I exploded.
Or so I felt. I at least screamed a little. I had never, ever, ever felt something that hurt so much. Not the longest, hardest caning in my history. Not a heavy ebony hairbrush on my thighs. Not being smacked on the tender areas near the backs of my knees. Nothing hurt like this. It was nauseating. It was disorienting. I don’t remember moving, but I discovered that I had my hand clutched between my thighs, because it was the sort of pain that I simply had to apply pressure to. There was no other choice. Holy. Fuck. I trembled.
“Other hand,” Mr. Allen instructed. I looked up at him pleadingly, but he had a stern and serious face. That confidence and his unbending nature comforted me, pacifying me enough to stand up straight again and put my other hand out. I forced it as far away from my body as I could, looking away to avert my eyes from what was going to happen.
That’s what happened. I crumbled, sort of bent in half, rocking and rubbing my aching, burning, terribly sore hands together. I knew that there was a crowd of people around, that we were playing in a suite, but I wasn’t aware of anything around me. Just the hurting. It was all that my mind could process. I didn’t even feel entirely in control of the parts of my body that I normally am, unsure of how to breathe or move my muscles.
“I can’t take two more,” I told Mr. Allen. This was huge. I’m horribly proud. It’s rare for me to beg, to protest, or try to get out of something. I am, after all, the kind of girl who intentionally gets herself into situations like this. But here, I felt that I had met my match. This hurt too much. I wasn’t tough enough for two more. I just couldn’t. There was no way. I shook my head, tears soaking down my face and gathering on my sweater.
“You can and you will,” Mr. Allen told me. “You’re going to. Put your hand out.”
I wanted to protest more. I couldn’t. I might die. I might *actually* explode. My hands might come off. I was entirely beyond rationality. Instead, I felt comforted by his statement, and my panic started to fade. I felt the tranquility of being out of control, feelings of comfort in the inevitable that I had been taught to embrace long ago. I could do this. I could.
I put my first hand out again. It already felt about twice it’s usual size. I closed my eyes and tried to relax into what was going to happen. I shrieked anyway, quickly devolving into sobs again.
Somehow, I got my other hand up without having to be coaxed, with Mr. Allen praised me for before bringing the tawse down the last time. This one felt like the worst one, both my hands swollen and red and sore, my world illuminated with a white strike of agony. I fell to my knees with both hands clutched between my thighs, trying to press the hurt out of them, trying to squeeze them back to feeling their normal size. I was concerned for a moment that I might throw up, but I recovered remarkably quickly as a powerful, almighty rush of endorphins came and took me over. Mr. Allen went away for a moment and returned with a bowl of ice. I buried my hands in it, and I felt infinitely better.
“You took that well,” he said as he comforted me. I laughed. “No, I really didn’t.” I think it was the least well I had ever taken anything.”Well, you took it. That’s something,” he said with a supportive smile.
He told me that he knew that there was no way that I was going to be alright with myself if I didn’t take the second half of the tawsing, which is why he had been so insistent.I didn’t feel like weakness left me and afterwards, that hollow space left was inflated with strength. I felt all the things in me, the feelings and the vulnerability harden into an unbreakable, positive core. I felt safe. I felt like myself. I felt like everything that had been dark had been illuminated. I was very glad for this. I needed it. I needed that extra push. I was proud of myself in this moment, although I did acknowledge somewhere that this was no longer a limitation in my mind, and it could potentially happen again, but I tucked that away in case I ever needed something to be afraid of. 😛
To give insult to injury, it was now time for Bad Alex to get her hands tawsed. She took her four strokes without event, without struggle, with hardly even any sound. She gave 0 fucks about the exact same experience that had just knocked me off my feet, literally. Fuck you, Bad Alex. (Note: I love Bad Alex. She’s a wonderful friend. But fuck you for having a better pain tolerance than I do, and for your ability to get me into trouble no matter what.) At least she didn’t gloat. Much. ♥