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.
My last post in the series of entries outlining my history as a spanko ended with me being about twelve years old and entering into my first dating relationship. While my thoughts about myself as a spanko were still dark and bleak, I was feeling slightly better about the world in general due to my new found emotional closeness with my first girlfriend. The rest of my twelfth year was fairly positive in other areas: I came to know myself in ways I had never before, and I began to see how it would be possible for me to have a place in the world.
Unfortunately, that is where the positivity stops for some time. I am not going to write much about the years when I was thirteen through sixteen. Suffice to say, I had some serious life issues that took my mind off my desire to be spanked. My focus was on simply getting through the day alive. That’s not to say that my spanking desires entirely disappeared: only at the very lowest point of my life, when I was about sixteen, did I reach a point where I simply did not care about anything superfluous to my survival, and spanking fell into that category. Still, when my situation improved a few months later, the daydreams and fantasies returned as if they had never left.
When I was seventeen, I first saw Serious_Face in the public library. He was, it turns out, twenty eight at the time, but he just seemed “kinda old” to me. He was working on some sort of research and had a lot of his personal books and papers spread out all over a table in the History section. I was originally fascinated by his stuff: his books were mainly older and leather bound. He had fancy pens and elegant folders for his papers. He had an air of class surrounding him that I’d never before observed. I did what any person would do when such an interesting person entered his or her world: I started stalking him mercilessly.
I realized fairly quickly that he was of English origin, which made him even more interesting to me, especially because of my long time obsession with Boy. I went to the library far more often and found myself sitting at a table adjacent to his, but getting very little reading done. He generally wore a long sleeved, button up shirt with a tie, and before he began to write, he would unbutton the cuff on his right hand and neatly roll the sleeve up, presumably to prevent ink from getting on his shirt. It sent serious shivers through my body and left me more interested in daydreaming than reading.
After two or three months of this (seriously!) I got up the courage to start talking to him. I asked him some mundane, academic questions and he answered them, then went off on long-winded historical lectures. He liked to talk and I liked to listen to him: we became fast friends. By the end of the next month, I was hanging out with him and his wife outside of the library. Eventually, I started to go over to their house pretty regularly.
Serious_Face’s house fascinated me. I lacked a lot of social skills when I was young, and I spent a lot of time just standing around staring at his stuff. I stood in front of his shelves reading book titles, and I smelled all the spices in his pantry. One day, when he was downstairs and I was looking at books in his study, I took my exploration a little too far and began to open the drawers in his desk. Tucked away behind a bunch of mundane papers and things was a heavy, leather strap. I turned beet red and slammed the drawer shut, feeling for a moment like I might pass out. Clearly, it had to be for something else. There was no way that it was for… that thing. I found myself too nervous to even think the word “spanking.”
Originally, I intended to never mention it again. I was clearly reading something into it that wasn’t there. That was all there was to it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, though: it was like suddenly discovering an artifact in someone’s home that suggested that magic might be real. Over time, I noticed little thing: the way that he looked at his wife when she was annoying him and the way that she shied under his gaze, the way that she occasionally sat down very carefully, the thick, ebony hairbrush on her dresser, even a small blister on the palm of his right hand. It took me months of quiet observation, but I finally decided to bring it up.
It was, hands down, the most awkward conversation of my life. I was sweating and shaking with fear and embarrassment. In order to do this, I not only had to approach something extremely personal head-on, but I had to say the word “spanking” aloud: something I had only done a handful of times in my entire life. Still, my desire to know if maybe there was a way for me to have that which I had always wanted was stronger than my fear and lack of self confidence. I was able to get through the conversation, and I found out that yes, he and his wife were into spanking. We talked about DD and accountability, about the physical side of how things were done, in his experience, and about the fact that there were other people in the world into spanking besides me, him and his wife. Then, making myself more emotionally vulnerable than I’d ever been in my life, I asked him to spank me.
He said no. At the time, it was the worst possible thing I could have heard. Now, I greatly appreciate it: I was only seventeen. He told me he would not engage with a minor that way. Thus began the waiting game. During this time, I started to use the internet to look at spanking sites a little bit, although I didn’t ever delve too deeply into that. I was so overwhelmed with excitement that one chapter of a spanking story could hold my attention for a week. The world of my fantasies was real. I was simultaneously overjoyed and petrified. I never made an account on any website. I never went on a message board. I never posted a story that I wrote. I lurked, feeling certain that even if S_F eventually did spank me, I’d never want to take my “kink” (as I had just started to think of it) any further than that. As I waited, my life changed more: I went away to college that January, where I grew and learned and matured even more. With the idea of DD in my mind, I found myself craving structure and discipline, but I tried my best to give it to myself. I set my standards high and put all my effort into their achievement.
On the day of my eighteenth birthday, I saw S_F and asked him if now that I was of age, he’d be willing to spank me. Being a cruel and awful man, he told me that he wanted to wait until he had more free time and we were both in the right “headspace” for it. So I kept waiting. It took another month and two days.
|I looked a bit different when I was 18, huh?|
[To be continued]
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.|
I have a very high spanking need. I got a hard spanking last Saturday (which made me sob and left me sore for a few days) and by Thursday, I was already getting antsy. I headed down to Chinatown to pick up some cardboard boxes for my packing and I quickly discovered that I was jones-ing harder than I thought: I saw implements everywhere I looked.
I suppose that’s not all that unusual: what kind of spanko can look at a wooden spoon and think: “Oh, that’s for cooking”? The difference is that when I’m not getting spanked often enough, I abandon all sense of self preservation. What I would normally look at and say: “Unacceptable!” becomes intriguing. I find myself on sites like cane-iac, wondering if maybe I need an acrylic paddle or a multi-strand cane. I start seeking out pervertables to add to my amazon wishlist. I keep nagging all my friends to go with me to The Stockroom Store in Silverlake to oogle the canes and straps there.
When I’ve been spanked recently enough, I look at my collection of implements and think: “I have way more stuff than I even need.” I’ve got scary, awful stuff and I have things that can be used nicely. I have hairbrushes, paddles, canes and spoons. I have stuff made of wood, plastic and rubber. The only thing that I could argue to myself is the fact that I need leather implements, since I’ve recently decided that I’m fond of and comfortable with them, but those tend to be expensive, and I can’t justify spending too much money when I’m saving up to move.
|Not a bad collection, considering a year ago the only implement I had to my name was a single hairbrush!|
There are some people who fetishize their toys, and almost get more from purchasing implements than using them. These players seem to prefer to switch implements frequently during scenes and are more likely to use heavier implements in a lighter style simply for the enjoyment of using something scary. Honestly, at the end of the day, I prefer hand-spanking over anything else (in the entire world!) but I do enjoy collecting implements. I find picking out and purchasing, out of my own free will, something that will hurt a lot to be a great form of active submission. I think that’s why my desire to purchase implements peaks when it’s been a while between scenes: I want to participate in the crafting of my future agony. It’s a way to be actively involved now in something that will happen in the future.
I also love pervertables. I love spoons and hairbrushes: as a child, I rubbed my hand over the smooth, spanking surface of them and daydreamed (I never had the courage to self-spank when I was a kid). My very first implement was a hairbrush, one which is still in use. Just like I loved seeing the word “spanking” in the dictionary as a girl, I take great joy in finding something spanking related in a seemingly innocent place. So on Thursday, in Chinatown, I couldn’t help myself.
I ended up buying four things. First, I saw a selection of regular wooden spoons. I found one that was lightweight but long handled: it just seemed like it would be wickedly stingy. Then, after shopping around a bit, I came across a giant pair of chopsticks, to be used for cooking. They looked just like a pair of little canes. On another aisle, I discovered a textured spoon for serving rice. I’ve long been interested in obtaining one of these: I think that the spanking surface of it will be interesting, to say the least. It will certainly be different than anything else I already have. I was going to start haggling about the price when I noticed giant spoons. I have a thing for stupidly big spoons: the kind you couldn’t possibly use for anything else. The first one came from Little Tokyo and was named “FLUFFY!” by Malignus. This one looked like it might be slightly bigger than FLUFFY! and was, when picked up, certainly heavier. It’s made of slightly flexible plastic. It’s going to be awful.
|It’s hard to see the texture on the smaller white spoon, but know that it is covered in small, raised bumps.|
I got all four items for $7.50 when I finished haggling in my broken Mandarin. Once home, I tested them against my arm and discovered that they all hurt a ton. I got a chance to experiment with the textured spoon at Threshold on Saturday night (more about that later) and it was awesome. I’m excited to be spanked with the rest of them, and to experience the one I did play with in the hands of a more seasoned top. Buying them certainly gave me something more to daydream about in the meantime.
“I find it curious that you refuse to mix your kink with sexual activity. I understand being able to enjoy them apart from each other, but I would think that the two together would bring more pleasure. It makes me wonder exactly what sensations you get from spanking? Is it a physical pleasure or is it something more emotional?”
I got this message in my fetlife inbox while I was at Folsom Street Fair, and while I read it, I didn’t have time to respond to it. Honestly, it’s a question I get asked very frequently in different forms. I started to write a response to the message today, and I realized that it was something worth sharing with everyone. People often ask me why I don’t mix kink and sex. They want to know what I get out of it if not sexual gratification. Sometimes, they try to convince me that if I’d just try having a sexual scene, I’d like it. If nothing else, now I can just respond to people who ask me that with a link ;).
The question “Why isn’t spanking sexual to you?” is as basic and unanswerable as “Why do you like spanking?” I don’t know why. It’s one of the only situations where I find “It’s just the way I am” to be a satisfactory answer. As I mentioned in my earlier posts, spanking has pretty much always been there in the back of my mind. Likewise, spanking was never sexual. I experimented with trying to get sexual gratification from spanking fantasies when I first began to explore my body sexually. I hope that by binding the urge to be spanked to the sexual urge, I’d be able to find some kind of physical relief. Needless to say, it didn’t work. It made me feel dirty and uncomfortable.
Eventually, I came to realize that I have two parallel drives: one for sex and one for spanking. Both fill similar needs: the need to feel physically close to someone, to share bodily contact, to be vulnerable with someone I trust. Despite those similarities, they just don’t ever mix or cross. I never want them to. The idea of it squicks me out on the deepest of levels. Please also note that spanking is the older and stronger drive. I developed an interest in being spanked when I was probably about two. I did not develop a (hypothetical) interest in sharing sexuality with others until I was about eleven.
I have a sexuality. I like relating to people sexually. Once in a while, I get an emotional connection out of sex. Other times, it’s just fun and physically enjoyable. Despite my deep involvement in the kink community, I’m extremely vanilla in the bedroom. Dominance in bed turns me off. Submission in bed turns me off. Blindfolds? No. Handcuffs? No. A smack on the ass while having sex? Turn off. Whipped cream or flavored lube? Gross. To me, getting crazy in the bedroom involves doing it in a position other than missionary or woman on top.
Why am I like this? Who knows. I just am. Why is this relevant? Because it isn’t just spanking that I don’t want to mix with sex, it’s pretty much everything. I’m happiest sexually when my sex acts are pure and unadulterated. Add-ons don’t make it seem more fantastic, they make it seem diluted and are distracting to me.
The argument that people often use when talking about sex and spanking as going well together is that if I enjoy one, and I enjoy the other, wouldn’t it then follow that I’d enjoy them together? It’s a fallacy to say that two things that are enjoyed can be better enjoyed together. I enjoy kittens a lot. I enjoy sex. I feel EXTREMELY uncomfortable if someone talks about sex and (real, feline) kittens at the same time. That’s the exact way I feel about spanking and sex. I like them both. I just like them both not to touch.
There was a time when I would have dismissed the question of what I get out of a spanking if not sexual pleasure with “If you’re a spanko, you get it. If you aren’t, you never will.” I’m learning that it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m constantly struck by how similar many hard-wired (or, if you dislike that word, early discovering) spankos’ stories are. We were all doing a lot of the same stuff and feeling a lot of the same things independently, without ever knowing that other people like us existed. Still, we experience things differently despite our commonality. I appreciate receiving disciplinary spankings: some spankos do not. I have a strong element of submission in my approach to being spanked: there are quite a few spankos who prefer snark, bratting, resistance and eventual surrender and/or consensual non consent. I don’t mix spanking and sex: a lot of spankos do. I think it’s a cop out to say “spankos will get me.” It’s very likely they will: it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t explain my feelings. On the other hand, while I find it challenging, I’ve been recently finding it rewarding to try and explain the spanko experience to people from other kink communities. Just like my thoughts on Leather and the Old and New Guard traditions changed wildly just based on a few conversations at Folsom Street, I have the ability to explain myself in a way that allows others to understand. I’m not required to: no one is entitled to an explanation (and it annoys me if someone acts like he or she is). I want to.
I get a lot out of spanking. I enjoy the physical side of it from a non-masochistic perspective. I like the endorphins. I like the adrenaline. I like the physical vulnerability. I like the physical intimacy. I almost always find an element of submission in a spanking, and I enjoy that, too. As far as the emotional and mental go, I can get pretty much anything from a spanking depending on the Top and the atmosphere. There are some fairly constant things, though. One is feeling of celebrating who I am and who I’ve always wanted to be: engaging in something that has been part of who I wanted to be for most of my life with someone who is having a similar experience is really wonderful.
Another is the feeling of belonging. When Malignus spanks me, I feel a deep and wonderful sense of belonging to him as well as with him, but in all spanking play, I feel like I belong in the spanking itself. This is something that Dana Kane brought up to me at Spanking Court the other day: she said that after watching me get my final spanking (the one that lead to tears almost immediately) she was struck by how obvious it was in everything from my body language to my breathing that I was doing something that was part of who I am.
I almost always feel very vulnerable. This is a common theme across various types of bottoms in the larger BDSM scene. Vulnerability is a very nice thing when it is in a safe situation. Spankings allow me to let go of the world and my worries and just be. I know a spanking is going to hurt, and I’m okay with that. There’s a beautiful sense of peace in that.
Finally, in order for a spanking to be enjoyable to me, I need to get the feeling that the top is getting *something* out of it. Either he or she has to be having fun or fulfilling an emotional need or enjoying indulging in sadism, or perhaps something else. Part of what makes a spanking enjoyable to me is the knowledge that the person who is spanking me is glad to be doing it. This is part of what makes arbitrary spankings so enjoyable to me: I know that I’m being spanked because that is what the Top desires. Some of the most satisfying moments in my spanking life have been the times when Malignus has laughed with sadistic joy when spanking me. I love how much he loves to do what he does.
My motivations for engaging in spanking without sex are simultaneously complex and very simple. To look at it from the very simple perspective, it can all be reduced to the fact that it just works for me. The beautiful thing about kink is that there’s no right or wrong way to do it (as long as it’s consensual).
The other day, I was hanging out with one of my friends. We were having a lot of down-time, and every now and then, I’d space out and start daydreaming. After a little while of this, she said:
“Alex, what’s going on? You’re glowing like a pregnant fox!”
It took me a minute to figure out WTF she meant. Eventually, I figured out that she was making a reference to the film The Fantastic Mr. Fox.
So, I didn’t look exactly like that, but there’s no denying the fact that I’ve been very, very happy on a regular basis. There’s a lot of stress, sadness and uncertainty in my life right now, but everything is overwhelmed by a feeling of joy, excitement and mushiness. (No, I’m not pregnant.)
In just one month, I’ll be starting on the adventure which will bring me to my new home in South Dakota. Moving is inherently stressful. I have a long list of things that I need to get done in the next 31 days. It’s also bittersweet: Los Angeles became a home to me in the past two years that I’ve lived here. I realized that the next Pasadena Roses and Thorns munch will be my last (until I get back to LA for a visit and to do more spanking modeling) and that was a saddening thought. Roses and Thorns was my very first kinky event. I attended it not even a year ago. There, I met awesome people who would become constants in my experience in the community. I also met Princesstoy, one of my best friends in the kink world and out of it, through that munch, and later Epipelagic, Charlie Frown and MaskofNormality: friends who have never failed to bring a smile to my face and an engaging conversation to any setting.
My experience with Roses and Thorns lead me to step up to the challenge of creating a The Next Generation munch for Pasadena, which later evolved into PTNG: an amazing group of young people who have a ton of fun while educating ourselves about the kink scene. I’m going to miss that group, terribly. I’ll especially miss Maddycake and Sir_Siq, who have been there since the very first munch and who have become a very important, joyful part of my life. I’ll also be missing all the people I’ve met through Threshold, Fet Noir, The Eastside Munch and, especially, Sherman Oaks. I’ve had a few uncomfortable experiences, that’s true, but in general, I love the Los Angeles scene. I will always feel at home there. I’m very thankful to everyone who has made that experience what it’s been for me, and I’m looking forward to spending the next month having as many fun and rewarding interactions with everyone as is humanly possible. I can’t list everyone who has touched me (both emotionally and *ahem* physically) for lack of space, but know this: you are wonderful people, Angelinos. I’m very, very grateful that I got to know you and that I’ll be able to continue to interact with you long distance and on my visits.
The sadness of saying “goodbye”, even if it is not forever, plus the stress of having what seems like hundreds of things to do in the next month seem like they might overwhelm a girl. It’s true: I’ve certainly felt vulnerable. There have been times since the plans were set in motion when I let myself get a little too emotional and abandon some of my rationality, especially when talking about things that could be scary in the future. Still, the majority of my time has been spent with a giant smile on my face. Malignus (my boyfriend and Dominant with whom I am moving in) and I love each other a lot, and we complement each other beautifully. I’ve never desired to share my time and space with someone so strongly. I know it’s mushy, but I’ve talked a lot about the things I wanted but thought I’d never have, and a relationship like the one that the two of us share is at the very top of that list. I’m mostly focused on the excitement of the future.
|This is me, being positively unable to stop smiling.|
I hadn’t taken the time to talk about the fact that this is going on in my life in this particular venue, and I do feel it’s something worth sharing. I’m downright giddy at the prospect of the two of us being able to share our days. This Summa Cum Laude graduate from a Seven Sisters University is currently spending her days dreaming of making sandwiches, cleaning house and getting spanked on a daily basis. <dreamy sigh.> I’m sure there will be a lot of posts about things relating to this in the future, so I wanted to keep everyone up-to-date.
For my entire Spanko Life, I’ve kept my vanilla friends entirely in the dark with regard to my activities. Every once in a while, I mentioned to someone that I was slightly kinky, or sometimes I knew way more information about a subject than people felt I should, but unless someone else spoke first about their involvement in the kink community (or I found out some other way), I kept it to myself. I met a number of spankos in the vanilla world, but only because they dropped the first hint.
One night, shortly before I left to go visit my Dominant, Malignus, for the second time, I had a number of my friends over for a few drinks. I went to bed fairly early, and after I had, one of my female, vanilla friends opened up my computer to check something. In the past, I’d let my friends do this, but I generally checked and made sure that things were closed first.
Unfortunately, in this case, things were not closed. It was open to my fetlife profile. She’s generally a pretty shy girl, and I would have expected her to feel embarrassed and then close out of the page, but since she’d had a few drinks, she read everything. Then she looked at my photos. Then she looked at Malignus’ page. Then she read some group posts that I’d contributed to. I guess she found it very, very interesting.
The next day, she woke up feeling extremely guilty for having violated my privacy that way. Her reaction was adorable: she knew, due to her snooping, that I was leaving for a visit that would involve a considerable amount of spanking. So she went to the drug store and bought me some supplies that she thought I might need, as a way of showing me that she supported me and didn’t judge me for my deviant activities. It was maybe the cutest thing that ever happened. I didn’t begrudge her too much for snooping: after all, I only ever entered Spankingland in the first place because of engaging in a similar behavior (but that’s a story for another day).
|This was her “I accept you” gift bag’s contents 🙂|
The things she got me came in handy, by the way. I used up pretty much all of the First Aid Kit in the first couple of weeks I had it, and the hairbrush, while plastic, is ridiculously stingy and tear-inducing. The tears were then dried up with tissues. Finally, no spanko can ever have too many little things of lotion to carry around.
While I was pleasantly surprised by my friend’s adorable reaction to knowing about my private life, it didn’t make me expect that others would react the same way. I’ve heard horrible stories about what happened when people were outed to their families, and I do, from time to time, worry that such a thing might happen. At the same time, I’ve grown more comfortable with the idea of sharing the fact that this part of my life exists with a few of my vanilla friends.
The night before my first spanking modeling shoot, I was very, very excited. I was signed into Facebook and talking to a few of my guy friends. All three were people I met in my teens and had known for a number of years. None of them, like most of the people in my vanilla life, knew that I was a spanko. I believe that all three of them suspected that I was involved in kink in some way or another, but I had never actually told them anything. I was jittery with excitement and wanted to talk about my shoot, so I decided to let them know. They were good, open minded friends. I felt safe with it.
All three responded with a total lack of surprise. One confessed that he had seen my skirt flip up to show bruises once when we were at the mall during college. Another told me that he was fond of some light BDSM play himself, and a few days later, he made a fetlife account and friended me. The third told me that he’d been long curious about play with D/s themes and if he ever had the chance, he’d love to explore that side of things with me. I was pretty shocked by my 100 % success rate. Everyone I had “come out” to had basically responded with “Awesome!”
The other night, I started a conversation about my kink life with one of my long-distance partners. I met her in college and I love her very, very much. I’d never spoken with her about my spanking life very much, though. I was a little scared to: it’s scarier for me when I have a closer relationship with the person I’m confiding in, because if she *did* recoil in horror (which was extremely improbable, but still possible) I had much more to lose. She was very supportive of me, and told me that she had been going to munches and wanted to learn about being a domme.
I don’t expect this will always be the way, but it does make me feel more comfortable for the future. It also begs the question: is everyone I know secretly at least a little kinky? Am I just attracted to becoming friends with people with a taste for a less than vanilla existence? Do I just have damn good luck?
My experience with sharing this part of myself with vanilla friends has been really positive. It reinforces to me just how wonderful the people in my life are: the spankos, the kinksters and the vanillas alike. I’m very happy to know the people I do.
Have any of you shared your kinky side with vanillas in your life? How did they respond? Do you prefer to tell as many people as possible, or to keep it entirely private?
Content Warning: While it contains nothing objectionable, this post is a bit sad in places. Still, it’s important to me that I get a chance to share things, from the very start, to the present: even the sad parts.
When I was about ten, my life took a turn in a more complicated direction. My home life became unstable and I ended up living in a group home. I stayed there on and off for the next few years. It was an extremely awkward time in my life: I had begun to become aware of all the ways in which I was different than my peers. I had always known that I came from a less stable background than most of the other children I interacted with, but as I had more exposure to other people’s families, I became distressingly more aware of how little my own life conformed to society’s standards. It was during this time that I began to separate the ways in which I was different because of my circumstances: the things and experiences that I was not able to have but other children were, the lack of stability and comfort that I received at home et cetera, and the ways in which I was different because of who I was as a person: the fact that I preferred to read books or daydream than to socialize in groups or play sports and the fact that I wanted to learn everything while other children were satisfied to leave things unexplored. During this early self examination, I discovered two other things about me that I perceived as both inherent to who I was and socially unacceptable: I wanted to think about spanking all the time, and I was more interested in looking sexually at other girls and female celebrities than I was at boys and men.
At ten, I was beginning to go through puberty, I was at the height of my social vulnerability, and I had been thrust into a situation where many of my peers were older than I was and, due to the difficult backgrounds that tend to land children in places like a group home, many were aggressive, angry and judgmental. Furthermore, I had no privacy whatsoever: I shared a room with five other girls in my age range. I still attended a public school, where I found myself even more of an outcast than I had been before. At “home,” I was an outcast among outcasts: I was constantly teased for my bookish nature and my strange sense of humor. It was during this time that I fell deeply obsessed with video games as a secondary form of escapism, since I no longer had constant access to the library. I did, however, have a Gameboy Pocket and a copy of Pokemon Red. It was the only game I had, but it didn’t matter. It was the only game I needed, and I played the hell out of it. When my Pokemon all reached max level, I started the game over.
It was during this time that I discovered the book Boy by Roald Dahl. I found it on one of the shelves in my classroom and, as soon as I discovered the content, was afraid for anyone to see me reading it, so I stole it, brought it “home” and hid it under my mattress. I read it in any moment of privacy I could procure, flinging it back into its hiding spot when I heard the door open to the bedroom. For those who are unfamiliar with the book, Boy is Dahl’s autobiography of his childhood years. It is meant to provide the same kind of perspective on the world that most of Dahl’s books offer to children: it presents the world as a place that is full of both wonder and terror and which is dichotomized between people who will do sadistic harm to youth simply because they can and those who will always love and protect children.
|Yeah, I still have it!|
That said, it is also a very thinly veiled attack on corporal punishment as practiced in the English Public School system. The text was written and published during a time when the banning of caning in English schools was still a hot-button issue, and Dahl presents the historical tradition on which the practice is based as a series of horrific tortures that he underwent. I am in complete agreement with Dahl’s opinion, although I admit that his text is emotionally manipulative. The caning scenes are the most detailed in the book, and there is one every couple of chapters. They are presented as intentionally sadistic and extremely damaging to the students, who are young, defenseless and terrified of their superiors.Until Boy, the only text I’d ever seen relating to spanking or corporal punishment was the dictionary definition of “spanking” which I frequently looked up when I could ensure that I was alone. I just ate that book up. I loved it. I was obsessed with it. I eventually got brazen enough to carry it in my book bag, and I would excuse myself from class to read the beating scenes in the bathroom. Boy put a huge spin on my fantasies for a long time. I began to focus on boarding school scenarios rather obsessively, sometimes thinking about them so long and so obsessively that I would be unable to sleep for days on end. With the amount of desire to be spanked that I had and the entire lack of ability to express it, or even gain support about the way I was feeling, my obsession became unhealthy.
|After all these years, my Dictionary still opens to page 508.|
Boy had another influence on me, though: it dramatically increased the level of shame that I felt for my desires. The situation was made difficult because I did not know that consensual spanking play existed yet. I could only fantasize about the non-consensual, and I knew that spanking children and non consensual corporal punishment were against my morals. Dahl was clearly deeply traumatized by his experiences being caned as a boy, yet I could not stop thinking of them and being filled with a joyful excitement. I believed it was wrong for me to be so obsessed with behavior that had harmed others. I did not want to be part of something hurtful. I felt deeply ashamed of myself for this. Combined with my extreme lack of self confidence and the awkwardness of being among peers who did not accept me, I came to the conclusion that no one could ever know about my spanking fantasies for any reason. If it ever came to light, I resolved to kill myself.
I know, it sounds pretty silly now, but I felt a dark desperation in my heart. I couldn’t imagine living my life with a desire for something as strong as my longing to be spanked and no way to fulfill it. I had tried to come up with ways that I could receive spankings, but, since I had no knowledge of the kink community, I always came up empty handed. I wanted something dark, seemingly immoral and impossible, and I feared it would consume me.
Shortly after I “hit bottom” regarding my feelings about myself as a spanko, I met my first girlfriend and began to have my first loving, positive relationship. Although it had nothing to do with spanking, the lessened feeling of internal loneliness and alienation took some of the edge off things, and I was able to tone things down to a healthier level.
I talk frequently about “celebrating” being a spanko when I engage in play, and that’s extremely important to me. Every time I bare my bottom, I’m preparing for something that is at the very center of my nature. I am not ashamed of who I am or what I want. My Top is a person like me, an insider to my spanking existence, and we’re going to do this now because it is the thing that we want and enjoy and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s pure bliss. Sometimes, when I’m over a lap and getting spanked my mind flashes with the thought: this is real. I wanted something I thought I could never have, and in the end, I found something better than anything I had ever dreamed of.
I apologize for the relatively late hour at which I am making this post: I had a pretty busy day. Specifically, I shot with Spanking Court today, then spent the afternoon with one of my favorite friends from the scene, her Dom, and my vanilla boyfriend, R. Additionally, I’m helping my new roommate get settled in. All in all, a very nice, but busy, day.
I didn’t sleep particularly well last night: I tend to get jittery right before a spanking shoot. There are a lot of variables and unknowns involved in a shoot. When it comes to any kind of gig, I always worry about getting there on time and prepared: especially when working with someone for the first time, I often go over lists of things that need doing in my head rather obsessively when falling asleep the night before the shoot, and I often wake up in the night in a panic, thinking that it is much later than it actually is and that I’m already running late. When dealing with spanking modeling, this pattern of concern gets much stronger. I generally tend to worry that if I’m not on time and perfectly prepared I’m going to get spanked harder :P.
Despite these things, I woke up and got energized early in the morning and made my way over to Hollywood for my shoot. As soon as I met Cali and the rest of the Spanking Court team, I felt at ease. They were a lovely group of people. Everyone was extremely kind, friendly and considerate. They also had a bunch of really good food. That is always a plus. I relaxed and chatted, then got my hair and makeup done and was ready to shoot my first scene.
For those who aren’t familiar with Spanking Court (and if you aren’t, you should really check it out), it’s a site where cases are heard by a judge, who then hands out sentences in the form of either preventative or disciplinary spankings. I really enjoyed all the courtroom mis-en-scene. Their sets were really cool, and it was probably one of the only situations where one can have fun while wearing a orange jumpsuit :P. I never want to tell too much about the plot or details of a video before it is released, but I will share that got spanked three times. The final scene was a particularly long and hard spanking, and it was full of me crying. The type of scenes that I shot today were very natural for me: my character was a good girl who had gotten a bit out of hand and was repentant. That headspace is one of the most common for me in my real-life spanking activity, and, I must say, I rocked it ^_^.
Today was also the first time I was ever restrained for a spanking by anything other than the Top’s body (or, in some cases, the force of his will). Honestly, the only time that I even noticed that I was locked in place on the bench was when my hair got in my face and I couldn’t reach my hand up to move it! My attitude towards being spanked is generally very passive: I tend to relax into spankings rather than struggle against them.
The Villain, aka the Spanking Court Disciplinarian, was an awesome Top. He had excellent spanking technique and, perhaps more importantly, he created moods and headspaces that worked extremely well for each scene. His character was slightly antagonistic to me in the last scene, and he delivered lines that sent a shiver down my spine in an awesome way. He also broke a full size, wooden paddle of my butt:
|Everyone signed the paddle and gave it to me to take home.|
It’s the largest and meanest implement to meet its demise against my flesh to date. It’s also the first “official” spanking implement for me to break: until now, I’d only broken wooden spoons, hairbrushes and some weird plastic thing that I can’t exactly remember what it was supposed to be before Malignus started using it for spanking.
Speaking of butts that are known for breaking implements, I’m incredibly sad to announce that I did not get to meet Erica Scott today. She shot with Spanking Court later in the day than I did. It was my original intention to stay and hang out while others were shooting so that I could finally get a chance to meet her, but for various reasons, that wasn’t possible today. That was the only low point in my day, but I’m sure I’ll get a chance to meet up with her eventually.
I’m planning on shooting with Spanking Court again in the future, because I had such a wonderful time. I’m not sure when the content from today will be available on the site, but I’ll keep you posted ^_^.