Alex

Los Angeles, California, United States First and foremost, I’m a girl who loves being spanked. It’s at the very center of my being. I’m also a professional spanking model, which means I get to do what I love for my job. I’m twenty six years old, and currently located in Los Angeles when I’m not traveling around on my adventures. My vanilla interests include poetry, film history, academia, Pokemon, indie music, baby animals, baking and cooking, collecting vintage clothes and lots of cuddling.

The Nature of the Beast

Published January 23, 2012

Note- This post is kind of mushy and self-serving. I’m okay with this.

As I’ve mentioned before, I can’t remember a time before I was obsessed with spanking. It was always there in the back of my mind and it felt like some sort of strange defect in me. There were times when I felt like it would ruin me. There were times when I felt like I needed to be institutionalized because of it. There were times when I wanted to kill myself over it. Dramatic much?

Now that I’ve met the most amazing man, made some of the best friends I’ve ever had and been part of one of the most positive communities I’ve ever been involved in because of spanking, it seems pretty stupid. I’ve talked before about my anxiety, but to most, I think I seem pretty well adjusted about my life in Spankingland. And I am. I love it. It’s a source of positivity, joy, happiness, growth and relief.
That said, I must confess to feeling something that I know many other spankos either feel or have felt: shame.

Shame was a corner-stone of my upbringing. The Christian environment in which I was raised taught me that there was a particular way that God made humans and that deviation from that norm was sinful and shameful. My early rational mind believed that things should make sense. If something didn’t make sense, there was probably something wrong with it. Unfortunately, my obsession with spanking didn’t fit the way that I believed I was meant to perceive a “normal,” godly individual, nor did it make any sense.
I got over the God part. I rebelled against the idea of the social norm and preferred to simply be myself. I came to enjoy being a blatant and unabashed sinner. Still, I want to live in a world which makes sense. I want to understand the origins of my actions. I want to know who I am and why. When something is veiled from me, I become angry and frustrated. I taught myself never to accept “just because” as an answer to things. I want to know why I’m like this. I want to know what made me this way. Is it genetic? Is one of my parents secretly a spanko? Is it something I was exposed to when I was very young and before I had the ability to retain memories? Is it entirely without reason, some random fluke? I’ve long believed that knowing why I ended up a spanko would make being one easier for me.
The truth is, I can’t know why, and knowing why wouldn’t be useful to me anyway. It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make anything that feels wrong feel right. I, however, can do those things without any answers being required.
The origin of my affliction may be unknown, but the nature of the beast is not.
I’m a spanko. I like to be spanked. I like baring my bottom and lying over a lap. I like the feeling of being bare and vulnerable. I like the spanking itself. Even when it’s horrible, even when it’s with an implement I hate, even when I struggle and have a hard time lying still. I like to be spanked until I cry. I like to have my thighs spanked. I like the feeling of submission, of giving up my will. I like to be spanked for fun. I like to laugh during a spanking. I like having someone in my life who will give me disciplinary spankings when I am not my best. I like having an opportunity to grow. I like being corrected. I like being put in the corner. It makes me feel safe and contemplative. I like being put there with my bottom bare after a spanking to remain in the feeling of vulnerability, gather my thoughts and get the most that I can from the experience. I like getting spanked with my female friends. I like being comforted after a spanking, a gentle hand rubbing my back or my sore bottom. I like waking up and still feeling sore from the night before. I like learning about myself as a submissive and striving to be better. I like being rewarded with a hard spanking that brings me to happy tears when I’ve done an excellent job. I like getting a hard smack on my thigh or bottom at random, just because he feels like it. I like being a vessel for sadism. I like spankings that relieve my stress. I like spankings that make me feel loved. I like spankings that hurt terribly. I like spankings that don’t hurt quite as much.
I’ve found a way to be happy with who I am. It doesn’t matter why I am the person that I am. It only matters that I admit it and that I am going to force myself to stop feeling ashamed. Because you know what? You’re here, too. You like it, too. You wouldn’t be here, reading this, if you didn’t like spanking: giving it, getting it, watching it, thinking about it. Whatever. There’s a part of it that you like. That’s okay. Maybe you were born with it, like me. Maybe this is the first time that spanking has ever crossed your mind. Maybe you’ve got some other kink, or you’re mainly a BDSM person, and you’re interested in spanking. I won’t judge you. I won’t judge myself, either. And if someone DOES know, if someone DOES have the ability to read my mind when I’m thinking about spanking in the grocery store, if someone IS mentioning it in vanilla conversation because they suspect something about me, then oh, well. There’s nothing I can do about that. It’s certainly not the worst thing in the world. If people don’t like me for it, then there’s nothing I can do about that, either. It won’t be any different than the friends I lost for having a girlfriend. I’m not going to throw it anyone’s face, but I don’t see the point in being so afraid anymore.
Really, I have nothing to be afraid of. Except the cane. And the lexan. Aaaaaaaaaaand pretty much anything on my thighs. 😉

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Growth, Happiness, Introspection, Mushiness, On Being a spanko | 12 Comments

How Do You Girls Do It?!

Published January 23, 2012

There’s something that has boggled my mind for a very long time about other spanko bottoms. Almost all of them seem to engage, at least from time to time, in a practice that I’ve long found repulsive, uncomfortable and simply far too masochistic for me.

They wear pants.

Now, when I was younger, I used to wear pants pretty often. The change had to do with an embrace of my femininity and realizing that I was just legitimately more comfortable, physically and socially, in a skirt. I still wore pants when I was doing stuff that meant that I would otherwise flash the world, but mostly, I went over to the skirts and dresses side of things and was very happy.

20 year old Alex in pants

I still wear certain kinds of pants, too: I wear sweatpants when I go running and I wear what I call “fuzzypants” (pajama bottoms) about 90 percent of the time when I’m in my apartment. These pants are pretty awesome because they are soft and lose fitting and therefore allowed me to forget all the reasons that I didn’t like pants in the first place.

When I started my job in retail, I had to wear pants to work. I dug out my only pair of jeans and kept pairing it with different shirts and sweaters to make it look like I wasn’t wearing the same thing everyday. This was alright: I didn’t really enjoy pants, but they weren’t the bane of my existence that I remembered them being.

Then came the day that I got a spanking before leaving for work. Malignus gave me a pretty hard spanking with Warren and then dropped me off pretty immediately after. This was when I rediscovered that pants really suck. You know that feeling when someone grabs your bruises? Wearing jeans, even properly fitting ones, felt like that. All day. The more I walked around, the worse it felt. It took hours before it stopped feeling awful. It made me wonder how pants-wearing spanko girls can stand it! Do you not realize that you’re making it hurt more? Do you enjoy the prolonged discomfort? Is there something strange about me that makes me find something painful that others dont?

So, ladies: do you wear pants? I sometimes feel like I’m the only modern girl who does so with such rarity. If you do, do you find pants to be less comfortable on a freshly spanked bottom than a skirt? Do you have any secret techniques for having your pants make your butt feel better? Am I just really weird to think about this so much? Tops: do you have any preference between pants and skirts on your female spankees? I always thought that Tops preferred girls to wear skirts because they are oh-so-easy to flip up when turning a girl over one’s lap spontaneously. I may just be assuming this based on what I know that those I have the most experience with prefer.

So tell me about pants, people!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Pants, Questions | 23 Comments

Zeldagony: Part II

Published January 20, 2012

Yesterday was a pretty big day in the house of Malex. (Malex? Malignus + Alex. We made this up during my first visit here when we wanted to name a spreadsheet of our expenses and it kinda stuck. You’re welcome.) Several important things happened. First of all, my (somewhat controversial) post on Tuesday generated a lot of traffic: I reached 592 hits, my highest number in a day ever. Talking about traffic is always a little awkward, because, like talking about how long of a spanking one took, it’s entirely relative to the number of hits one was used to getting previously (HA!). As a frame of reference, I usually get between 200 and 300 page views per day, so this was nearly double that. It pleased me quite a bit.

Secondly, and perhaps more excitingly,

On Monday, Malignus spent the night out of town and I played through part of the second to last dungeon out of my own free will (after I finished eating nachos, Sour Patch Kids and strawberry ice cream for dinner).

Don’t hate!

On Tuesday, I beat the second to last boss without ever dying, then started the final dungeon. I was clearly getting better .Yesterday, I sat down and finished the ENTIRE REST OF THE GAME. I only died one time when beating the final boss, too. I was super proud of myself for this. In fact, I was almost pissed off that the game had gotten so easy for me right when it was over. Why wasn’t I always this good at it? Lame.

Malignus was clearly proud of me, too. When he got home yesterday, I asked for a spanking to reward me for my hard work. He decided that the most appropriate thing to do would be to beat me with the cable to the Nintendo 64 controller. As hilarious and awesome as that sounded, I was a bit concerned about this idea, for I have heard stories of people being hit with cords and cables that never seem to end with “AND IT WAS AWESOME.”

I know it doesn’t look like much, but holy crap, the cable hurt! I was rolling around on the bed and shouting “I DON’T LIKE THIS! JUST SO YOU KNOW, I DON’T LIKE THIS!”It was not just stingy, it was bitey. Every swat nipped at me. I was totally laughing while crying out though. Too ridiculous.

My signature scrunchy face

But, with Ganondorf defeated, peace returned to Hyrule AND my bottom made properly sore, one might think that this story was over. That said, have you ever heard a story from me which just ended when it was supposed to? Of course not! That would be far too convenient and against my luck’s better judgement.

Malignus decided that the only appropriate thing for me to do after having beaten the hardest and most frustrating video game that I’ve ever played in my life was to START PLAYING IT AGAIN FROM THE BEGINNING. I can’t make this stuff up. I seriously considered throwing a giant fit, but A) I’m an adult, B) Malignus is scary and C) I *did* just complain about how it had gotten easy, so I suppose I could live with running through it quickly. So after dinner and with my bottom still sore from the congratulatory beating, I was back in my place in front of the TV, controller in hand.

The problem was, this time I was playing with stricter standards. These do make considerable sense: I’m not learning how to play anymore, so it kind of follows that if I’m dying, I’m just not putting any effort into things. I get it. It’s for my own good and stuff: I just didn’t particularly enjoy it when Malignus made it a rule that every time I let a particular (easy to beat) enemy hit me in the game, he smacked me on my thigh. My bare, inner thigh. In the same place. When I finished the first section of the game, my leg looked like this:

So that’s the end of the story, right? Wrong!

Malignus went into the other room to talk to some other girl on the phone, and I thoroughly iced my poor pathetic thigh while complaining to Ami and anyone else who would listen to me about how much it hurt. When Malignus returned, I made sure to let him know how sore I still was. He responded with “That makes me want to hit you again” and a wicked, sadistic smile.

I shook my head vigorously. “But I’ve just iced it! You can’t hit me when my leg is all iced and cold! Doooooooon’t!” (I’m know, I know. I sometimes toss my dignity to the wind.)

He told me to stand up. I’d changed into my pajama pants while he was on the phone and he told me to come stand in front of him (he was sitting in a chair) and pull my pants down, which I did. He then told me to sit down on the floor facing him, which I also did. “Is it appropriate for you to tell me what to do?” he asked in a dangerously serious voice. When spoken to with that tone, it’s a struggle for me to maintain a full voice. I managed to get out a “No, Sir” without sounding ALL THAT pathetic. Then he smacked my leg again, MUCH harder than he had been doing before. I started to cry, because it hurt like crazy and I’m a total weakling when it comes to the thighs, and I scooted over to where he was sitting and put my head on his lap. He stroked my hair for a moment as I quieted.

SAD!!

He then decided that the best thing to do was to put capsaicin cream on it. I had promised on his birthday not to protest against capsaicin anymore, so I got up and brought it to him. I then spent the entire rest of the night being sad about how much it hurt. Christ, it’s really the worst thing. At best, it makes you unable to avoid feeling the fact that you’ve been spanked. At worst, it feels like you’re going to die by being immolated. It kind of went back and forth between those extremes for the rest of the evening.

Story is still not over.

Now, the other day, Malignus discovered an implement which I had brought back with me from New Jersey which had been previously ignored in favor of heavier artillery. It’s a small, lightweight bamboo spoon. It really doesn’t weigh anything, but it has a good sized spanking surface. I call it “Panda Food” because of the bamboo handle.

On Tuesday night, Malignus gave me my nightly spanking with it and I was extremely surprised by just how awful it was. The thing just. stings. There’s no other way of putting it: there’s no weight to it, and therefore it’s the least thuddy thing I’ve ever been spanked with (even less than a plastic hairbrush). I shudder just thinking about it. I think that many spankees prefer thud because it’s very gratifying– you really can tell that you’ve sustained a heavy impact and it makes you kinda feel like a BAMF. Sting is just surface pain, there’s none of that long, sustained throbbing that comes from the body recognizing injury afterwards. It’s superficial. But it hurts like a total bitch. Malignus has been sure to point out to me that because it causes no real damage, I could be spanked with this spoon all day without any detrimental effects. Except, you know, insanity.

After I spent a while trying to enjoy Star Trek TNG despite the fact that I was in various states of agony, Malignus decided that he wanted to hit me on the thigh AGAIN and that this time, he wanted me to bring him the aforementioned spoon. I was hesitant to do so, but did not protest. Again, I bared my thigh, and this time I buried my face in a pillow. The pain of it made my head explode, pretty much. He hit me more than once, and I found myself rolling around and freaking out. I became so not concerned with my surroundings that I hit my head into the wall a bit, but I didn’t even care. Somehow, I found myself curled up in Malignus’ lap sobbing while he comforted me and reminded me that he loved me and that I’m a very good girl. I know it sounds horrible, and it was, but at the same time, I loved it. I loved how happy indulging his sadism made him. I love being pushed that far. I loved that I had (mostly) accepted something that I hate. Lying there while I regained my calm, I found myself in this sort of otherworldly state of comfort– entirely spent, but the vacant space where all the fight in me had been was filled with a warm and enjoyable sense of comfort.

I really hope you aren’t bored yet. Because there’s more.
Eventually, it became bedtime and therefore, time for me to receive my spanking. Malignus asked me if I still wanted one, but that’s kind of a dumb question. I always want a spanking. Unfortunately, he decided to use that stupid spoon again. I cried from pretty much the start of it because, as previously mentioned, the fight in me was all used up. It hurt like hell and it was a very satisfying and relieving cry. When he’d finished and I’d pulled up my underwear (I’d given up on pajama pants at some point) he decided to give me a good smack on either hand. When those were both done, he grabbed my left hand again and tapped the spoon against my palm. I prepared myself for it, but instead, he hit me on the inside of the elbow. UGGGGGGGGGH! Finally, the night finished up by him grabbing my welted and bruised thigh as hard as he could. Just the grabbing made me burst into tears a final time. This pleased him a great deal, and he laughed and hugged me, obviously very satisfied with himself.

So that was my day yesterday! I kind of want a t-shirt that says “I beat Zelda and all I got were these lousy bruises.”

Posted in Daily Life | Tagged Daily Life, Humor, Submission, Thighs, Unacceptable Implements | 10 Comments

Fetlife Comments Most People Don’t Enjoy

Published January 18, 2012

I love getting comments on stuff. Comments on my writing, comments on my photos, comments on my blog (wink wink!): all of it makes me happy. There are certain kinds of comments, however, that never fail to produce this face: >_< . It’s my guess that others feel the same way. Being the careful researcher that I am, I’ve complied this list of “Comments Most People Don’t Enjoy.”This isn’t to say that these sorts of comments are NEVER acceptable, and are sometimes quite funny when used jokingly between friends. Please feel free to add to the list, or to protest my judgement. I want to add that I’ve never gotten a comment on my blog that was annoying or inappropriate in anyway. It is not my intention to make anyone feel uncomfortable or judged. Thanks.

Type 1: “I want to have sex with you” comments.
This kind of comment gets deleted immediately. I haven’t had any on my writing ever, which is kind of disappointing. If someone wanted to throw me on a bed and fuck me based on the quality of my prose, well, maybe I’d smile at that. I get a lot of comments from strangers on my public fetlife photos stating what things they want to do to me, and they never fail to make me displeased. “I’d love to spank you” is always ok with me. “I’d love to put my tongue in you for hours” makes me block you. The more words you use, the worse it gets.

Type 2: “I could do better” comments.
These comments appear on photos of a freshly spanked bottom and say things like “If I had spanked you, you’d be purple!” or “Where are the bruises?!” or “That was a nice warm-up.” Hot damn, people! Not every spanking has to be a murdering! Besides, some gals just don’t mark anymore! I personally get these kinds of comments rarely, because I don’t post a photo unless I think it’s worth showing off. Once in a while, though, my bruised and reddened bottom isn’t enough for the peanut gallery. I got a comment on the below that said something along the lines of “If I’d have spanked you, you’d be purple down to your knees.” I don’t have the exact wording anymore, because I deleted it out of frustration. I’m glad to say that the poster never spanked me 😀

By my definition, I was purple enough, thanks.

Type 3: “Your [body part] is [size]!” comments.
Sure, sometimes, when I look at photos on fetlife, I think to myself “Damn, she’s got a tiny butt!” or “Holy cow! I bet that having breasts like that is uncomfortable!” but I never, ever post these things as comments. Why? Because commenting on someone’s body is just rude, even if it seems like a positive to you. I get body part comments ALL THE TIME. “You have a huge ass! So spankable!” is not a compliment to me. Nor is “Pretty ass but it’s so tiny!” (I got both those comments on the same photo):

Tiny or huge? The jury is still out on that one!

I’ve been told that I had way too much “boob mass” to be pretty, that I should get implants, that I should be ashamed of my stomach and that have a perfect, Rubenesque figure. At the end of the day, it only matters if one person likes my body, and that’s me. I know my figure isn’t perfect, but people only have the right to offer their opinion on that if I ask them for it, otherwise, they’re being rude.

Type 4: “What did you do?!?!?!” comments.
It never fails. I post a photo of my butt after a spanking, and someone asks me what I did to deserve that.
Yes, I get disciplinary spankings. They’re hard. They hurt. I cry a lot and feel sad. Even if I photograph the results of such a session, I don’t want to announce that it was such, because I find discipline to be a very private thing, and I don’t want to get positive attention for my bad behavior. Yes, I tell my sisters and best friends when I’ve gotten myself into trouble, and I could see myself potentially blogging about it if the situation had some underlying lesson about DD in general or something, but I don’t want to publicize it to the world every time I’ve been a disappointment.

Secondly, I don’t just get disciplinary spankings. I’m from the “spankings are for everything” camp. I’d say that only 1 in 10 spankings I receive is for corrective purposes. It’s silly to assume that I did something bad because I got spanked. I’d say a quarter of the time, the reason that I got spanked is because I asked for it really nicely. My dynamic is far more complicated than “discipline only” and I play with a bunch of other people, too. And geeze, don’t I act good on the internet? Next time someone says “What did you do?” I’m going to respond with “I got spanked. Duh!”

Type 5: Comments that assume annoying things about me.
I’m cute. I get that. People want to hug me and stuff, because I’m cute. I went out on Halloween looking like this:

I’m not “a little.” I’m not into ageplay. I get comments assuming that I am all the time. I get “Your daddy is a lucky man” pretty often. Yeah, no. Are you talking about my father? Because he’s in prison. Not so lucky.

Then there are the posters who say “Just a spanking? I’d give you a good long single tail whipping!” No, thank you. I’ll also decline having my feet beaten, being blindfolded, having my tits “destroyed”, having my temperature taken rectally and a dozen other things that I’ve had offered on my photos. Your kink is totally cool with me, but mine is spanking, and that’s pretty much it.

Type 6: “I like it better this way!” comments
The number one reason I get this type of comments is about my pubic hair: I alternate between having it and not having it, usually depending on how I’m feeling or particular work I’m doing as a model. I literally do not care what you think of my pubic area. At all. When I have it, I get tons of comments about how strange men on the internet don’t want to eat me out. I’m okay with that. When I don’t, I get comments saying that it makes me look like a child and they wish I would grow my hair back. I don’t know ANYONE who would change their bodily presentation because of the preferences of a stranger on the internet. I also get comments about how people like to see marks on my butt: “I’d prefer a little less bruising next time” and “It’s hotter if it goes all the way down to your knees” have both been left on my photos. Right. I’m going to tell my tops to make sure to satisfy strangers online when we’re having a scene. No. Not happening.

Type 7: “OMG SUDDEN BUTT DEATH!” comments

We’ve all seen it happen: someone posts a photo of their butt after a spanking and someone else comes along and says that it’s dangerous. Mind you, there *are* situations where something is dangerous: if someone doesn’t know where kidneys live and is belting a girl in a way that’s probably going to make her pee blood, that had ought to be pointed out. If someone is missing all their skin from the waist down, they are probably going to require serious medical attention. There are areas that some people don’t agree on: some spankos are opposed to the hitting of thighs, some are into it. Some spankos think that wrap is evil, others are okay with a little. Friendly comments about that stuff is pretty normal and actually nice. Because I operate on Risk Aware Consensual Kink practices, I appreciate any additional risks being pointed out to me. What I hate are people who freak out for no reason.
“HE SPANKED YOU WAAAAAAY TOO HARD! THAT IS NOT EVEN SAFE! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!”

Apparently if you get spanked too hard you can get a blood clot which will then go (somewhere generally unspecified in the comments) and make you dead. This condition is known as Sudden Butt Death, and as the name suggests, it’s extremely fatal. I know that this is true because someone that’s a Nurse’s Aid said so on the internet.

It’s okay not to like hard play. It’s okay to be grossed out by photos of multicolor bruises and blood and plasma leaking all over the place. But seriously. I don’t think anyone has ever died from a spanking.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Humor, Lists, My butt | 24 Comments

Your Wish is My Command: Lexan

Published January 16, 2012

I enjoy checking the search terms that bring readers to my blog. I find it particularly pleasing when people get here by searching for my name. Sometimes, people search for things that are very appropriate indeed: “happy consensual spanking,” “girls who love to be spanked” and “writing about spanking” all make a lot of sense. Others make me a little scrunchy in the face, but may well be true: “people who cry a lot” and “the spanking model who cries the most” were high on that list. Some are just slightly creepy, or at the very least, too extreme for me: “dark blue ass after caning”and “spanking till scars” are in the DO NOT DO category. Some people get really ridiculous ones, but thus far, I haven’t really had that many of those.

Tonight, however, I saw a search term come up that was almost a request: someone searched for “Alex Reynolds Lexan Video.” Now, I can tell you straight up, dear searcher, sadly for you, but probably happily for me, such a video does not exist. It may well exist someday, though, and if it does, it’s going to be one pathetic film. I’ve talked before about having a “love/hate relationship” with certain implements. I wouldn’t say that’s the case with my lexan paddle. I’m pretty sure I just have a “hate/hate relationship” with it.

My original lexan paddle is a Lexan OTK Paddle from Cane-iac.com. It was purchased for me by my friend, IG, who is tremendously sadistic. There are a couple of things that I find noteworthy about this particular piece: first of all, it’s thickness is significant. It’s 1/2 inch lexan, where as almost all other lexan paddles are 1/4th inch. That means that it’s heavy and solid and packs an incredible amount of weight. The second feature is that it has a “blade” of only six inches in length. Having a small surface area means that all the force of a strike is concentrated in a small area of the bottom (or, in more terrible cases, the thighs) and makes it hurt a lot in one spot instead of spreading it out. It’s a recipe for serious agony.

That’s the physical side of things: there’s also a psychological component for me (as there always is). IG’s partner and submissive, my friend Peachy, had told me all kinds of stories about what a horrible implement it was before I received my own for my birthday. I brought it with me on a visit to Malignus’ and he discovered it the second morning that I was there. He brought it out and asked me if I’d ever felt Lexan before. I told him I had not, and he told me how truly terrible it was and said that it was too sadistic even for him: an idea which was kind of terrifying to me, considering our previous experiences together. He then said that he was going to give me four swats with it, so that I could understand what I was dealing with, but that he would probably never use it again. Because tops can’t count, I then got six swats with it on top of the mess of bruises that I’d already had from the night before. It was horrible: the pain was deep penetrating and sort of “buzzed.” It was a mixture of way too much sting and way too much thud. I was extremely grateful for the idea that it wasn’t going to be used again. Except for the fact that it totally was, a bunch of times, and it continues to be fairly regularly. It really, really hurts, but I know that my experience of it is greatly enhanced by the amount that it has been built up in my mind as something ridiculously horrible. Truth be told, the other night Malignus made me cry just by leading me into the bedroom with it in his hand.
Fast forward to this month: I had recently gotten back from my visit to my family’s house when another package from IG arrived. He had certainly one-upped himself: besides containing a few other choice nightmare-makers, he had sent me a new lexan paddle:

It is also 1/2 inch thick, but it’s quite a bit larger and it has holes in it. It’s heavy and thick and doesn’t create an air cushion. It does create screaming, though: it’s now tied for the thing which hurts the most in the entire world. I think that highest amount of strikes I’ve received from it at a time is four and that’s way more than enough for me.
Here it is pictured with my original paddle (which I still despise.)

Since I can’t provide you with a video to satisfy your curiosity, dear searcher, I hope this story will suffice. Here is a photo of my butt after a very hard spanking with the smaller lexan paddle (without a warmup and starting with the thighs, because I live with a horrible sadist.) There are also older cane bruises that still show a bit- I think they are from playing Zelda.

More search terms that amuse me will result in more “Your Wish is My Command” posts. Stay tuned!

Posted in Photoshoots | Tagged Implements, My butt, Photos, Unacceptable Implements, Your Wish is My Command | 8 Comments

The Legend of Zelda: Alex’s Misery

Published January 13, 2012

Note- this entry has very little spanking in it and mostly deals with submission, sadism and video games. Kthnx.

I don’t really remember how the whole thing got started. It had to do with the fact that I made the mistake of bringing my N64 and the combined collection of me and my elder brother’s game cartridges with me when I moved. I had figured that Malignus and I would have fun playing classic games together, that I could play Pokemon Snap, and that there would probably be something in my selection that Malignus would enjoy playing himself.

Little did I know that in that cardboard box, I had packed my new worst enemy in the form of a shiny, gold game cartridge that was once my brother’s.
It turns out that Malignus loves The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time. I had watched my brothers play parts of it when I was a girl, but had found it too frustrating for me and never even maintained a save file. At some point, Malignus got the idea that he was going to make me play it. What started out as a simple assignment quickly turned into a nightmare: I’ve never been worse at anything in my life. I’m not kidding when I say that. Every frustrating thing I’ve ever attempted- learning to drive, doing ballet, jumping hurdles when I ran track and field, learning about Quantum Physics, writing characters in traditional Chinese with a brush and ink- they all pale in comparison to the difficulty that I have with playing Zelda. It’s worse because I’m traditionally a fast study at video games, even those that I don’t like. Yet here are a few scenarios that I’ve run into when playing this one:
* I attempted to get past one hallway which is littered with traps a total of 37 times before I got through.* I prepared for a boss battle by collecting two red fairies (items that let you regain all your life when you die) and having full health and then died entirely before I entered the room. That means that I lost 30 hearts in a single hallway which was supposedly so simple that the people who make walkthroughs for Zelda didn’t even bother to say anything besides “avoid these guys and go in the door.”*I spent a total of two and a half hours attempting to beat a boss that is described in the walkthrough as being able to be beaten in literally less than a minute.*I dedicated three hours to completing one dungeon. At the end of the first half of that time, I had not yet made it past the first of five steps it takes to ENTER said dungeon.

The Trinity of Terror +1

The first couple of times that Malignus told me I was going to play Zelda after it was shown just how horrid I am at it, I responded by whining and protesting in a way most out of character for me. This attitude was quickly abandoned when I was asked if I needed a caning to motivate me. Still, there were times when I simply didn’t listen to what he was instructing me to do in the game, or I didn’t try, or I just kept royally failing at things and he decided that I needed that “motivation.” You know what words are always scary?
“I’m getting the cane.”
That can never not be scary. Some very stupid part of me didn’t except Malignus to actually come back with a cane the first time he said that regarding Zelda. I mean, who gets caned over video games? Answer: me. Not only did he come back with one, but he came back with the scariest one I own (pictured above) and gave me a pretty hard stroke with it. He then continued to sit near me waving it back and forth (it’s extremely flexible) and hitting the furniture to “keep me focused.” I guess it kinda worked. I certainly started putting forth full effort. Slowly but surely, putting in an hour or two at a time, I made it through quite a bit of the game. In some ways, I improved, but I remained horribly bad at platforming, dodging traps and fighting bosses.

Yesterday afternoon, Malignus told me to start playing Zelda again and I responded by asking if I could finish something first. I didn’t stop right away when he said “No,” even though we’ve “talked” (I’m sure you understand what that means, right?) about that sort of thing fairly often recently. As a result, I ended up getting sentenced to play through two dungeons of Zelda before bedtime instead of one. Because I’m a highly responsible person, I played until he left for work and then went to the store to get waffles, then played a little more, then talked to a partner, then took a nap, then text messaged Peachy for a while, then talked to Heather online and only started playing with true focus and dedication at 8:30 PM.

I kept playing for the next five hours and I still didn’t finish the amount of game that I’d been told to do. While I played, I felt a flurry of emotions. The primary one was frustration. I was frustrated at the stupid game for being so damn difficult, at Malignus for making me do such a stupid thing, and, more than anything else, at myself for sucking so hard. I nearly broke my controller at least once. I got so pissed off that I started intentionally abusing my horse, Epona, who I had originally promised never to hurt, just to have a vessel for my rage.

Poor Epona!

At one point, I got so angry about it that I got tears in my eyes. It was then that I had to remember why, exactly, Malignus was having me play Zelda. It wasn’t purely sadism (although I can’t help but believe that it was at least part of it). It was to teach me to persevere without getting angry, to apply the things I already knew about the world to new situations, to use my brain and to be patient. It probably also had to do with time management: something I’d failed at yet again. With this in mind, and with the knowledge that my D/s dynamic is founded around the idea that I may not fail myself, I continued to trudge forward.

When I finally fell asleep at 3:30 this morning, I hadn’t finished the amount of Zelda that I’d been assigned, but I was damn proud of myself for my endurance in making it as far as I did. There’s something very satisfying in giving something, even something that seems dumb, your all. I know that next time won’t be as bad. It’s kind of amazing how horrible/educational everything can be.

Posted in Daily Life | Tagged Daily Life, Growth, Love/Hate Relationships, Submission | 6 Comments

Welcome Home!

Published January 7, 2012

Oh, right. I went away to my family’s house for the holidays. Then I came back.
Good story!

I’m kidding, I’m kidding. There’s more to the story than that!

Being with my family of origin is hard. My mother and I have had a difficult relationship for my entire life. Sometimes I just think I’ll never go visit them again, but since my mother is in poor health and my oldest brother just passed away, I knew it was the right thing to do.

The visit was really stressful, though. My mother and I quarreled a lot, she didn’t let me do anything, she said awkward things all the time (like asking me if I was saving it for marriage!) and I was reminded of all the reasons I left home at such a tender young age in the first place. Plus, I attended my brother’s memorial service, which was extremely bittersweet. I had already found closure for myself, but it hurt to see so many other people suffering and there were instances of prejudice against the HIV positive expressed *during the service* which really boiled my blood.

There were also awkward spanko moments- my family members mainly bought me practical gifts, and practical gifts for a woman tend to be kitchen things where I come from. I got ANOTHER rubber spatula (this one did go in the kitchen, but it was still awkward) and I got another wooden spoon. I have a lot of wooden spoons. Malignus doesn’t like me using them in the kitchen because he doesn’t want them to absorb germs or something like that. Basically, I am pretty sure he just wants to keep them all for spanking me. Besides, the spoon I got from the family is a really beauty from a spanking perspective: nice, long handle, perfectly flat back, smooth, strong beech wood.

Yep: I’m aware that this is the most ridiculous photo of me I’ve ever posted to this blog!

Then there was the gift exchange with my cousin, who bought me a set of FIVE hairbrushes. My mom said “Oh good! Alex can really use those! I’ve bought more hairbrushes for that girl than anyone needs in a life time and yet they always end up lost or broken.” Broken, yes, Mom. Into pieces. On my ass. But you don’t need to know that!

Then there was the awkward conversation in which my surviving brother attempted to convince me that I should use a bathbrush in the shower because they feel really nice and offered to buy me one. No. Bathbrushes DO NOT feel really nice. They feel like death. Like every swat is taking minutes off my lifespan. I don’t care how they feel in the shower: if it’s in my shower, it’s in my house and THAT’S BAD!

Finally, there were the little things: the fact that I notice awkward spanking related things EVERYWHERE and want to giggle or make an awkward face and can’t in vanilla company:

I’m wearing these to get spanked sometime!

Beside all this, I had trouble sleeping and I really missed Malignus. It certainly made me appreciate just how wonderful my life here is, though. I’m able to truly be myself at all times and I’m with someone who loves me for exactly that, not for who I pretend to be or who I change myself into. That in and of itself is more than I ever dreamed of. Add in the fact that we have a lot of fun together, I get to cook and clean, and I get a good spanking almost every day and I’m made aware that I’m pretty much the luckiest girl in Spankingland.

Coming home on Tuesday to this was just lovely. There really aren’t words for how nice it was. When I was a girl and I was obsessed with Roald Dahl’s book, Boy, there was a section that I enjoyed that didn’t have any beatings in it. This was where Dahl discussed the joy of going home from school for the summer holidays. I specifically remember him saying something along the lines of “The feeling is incredible and can’t be understood except by someone who has lived in an oppressive environment and then gone back to a place of freedom. It was almost worth going away to school just to experience the joy of being away from it.” I always liked imagining what that would be like: to leave my normal and unenjoyable childhood and go to a place of freedom. Leaving my family’s home to go back to my new adult life reminded me of that. It’s a very pleasant thing, getting to experience the stuff you’ve always wanted! 😀

On Tuesday, after Malignus picked me up from the airport, we got a pizza and went home to watch the first two Rocky movies (which I’d never seen before, despite being a film aficionado.) After the second movie, it was late and I was tired, plus I still had a lot of residual stress from the past week built up in my system. I asked Malignus is he was going to spank me that night, since I usually go across his lap before going to bed, and he said “a little bit.” I was kind of imagining a firm but not miserable hand-spanking based on that response. I was alright with that: I hadn’t been spanked for nine whole days! Better ease back into it, right?

Then I saw him coming into the bedroom with my new spoon. He had swatted me with it earlier and it had made me howl. My stomach dropped. This reflected in a very sad look on my face. Malignus asked me if I was scared about how much the spanking would hurt and I replied that I was. “You should be,” he said. He’s very encouraging. 😛

I bared my bottom and got in position over his lap and he asked me if I wanted a warm up. I gave the most heartfelt and earnest rendition of “Yes, please, Sir!” ever heard by man, I’m pretty sure. Warmups are kind of a luxury for me, and I hadn’t really been expecting one, but the idea sounded so nice.

Then Malignus said “Too bad!” and started laying into me. Then I started howling. It would probably not have been a very pretty thing to listen to. The stupid thing was agonizingly painful and it kept falling with an extremely fast pacing. It hurt so much that I very quickly began to sob. The spanking just kept going, though, without any sign that the pace was slowing. He spanked me very thoroughly: as is usual, he didn’t spare my thighs in the least, and this time he put considerable time and attention into beating my sit-spots. He eventually stopped with the spoon and spent a while spanking me firmly but much more slowly with his hand while my cries began to quiet. It took me a little bit after the spanking finished to stop crying, but my stress and tension had been replaced with a remarkable sense of calm and security. Laying over the lap of the man I love with a bruised, swollen bottom throbbing with pain, I felt like I had no reason to be anything but content and joyful. Very shortly thereafter, I lay in bed with my head resting on his chest and fell asleep.

Because I went directly to bed, I did not photograph my butt when it was properly marked, but I woke up looking like this:

My life rocks.

Posted in Daily Life, Photoshoots | Tagged Daily Life, Introspection, Mushiness, My butt, Panties, Photos | 4 Comments

Spanked at Work (!?!?!)

Published January 6, 2012

Among all my other endeavors, I recently began working in retail. One would imagine that working in retail would have nothing to do with the subject of this blog, aside from the fact that the store in which I’m employed sells wooden spoons, rubber spatulas, hairbrushes, bath brushes and decorative bundles of bamboo rods. Originally, I felt slightly embarrassed whenever someone purchased one of these items, and I was much more uncomfortable if they came through the line to buy one of those things and nothing else, but it wasn’t noteworthy. Let’s face it: I’ve got spanking on the brain all the time, and any indicator that a stranger knows what I’m thinking about makes me feel paranoid and terrified, so these little discomforts were no different than my daily life has been for as long as I can remember. There was one awkward incident where a woman came into the line with two spoons and asked me which one I thought was “sturdier,” and that was particularly awkward for me because I could give a very thorough answer indeed if I had wanted to, but I figured that was as bad as things would ever become there.

One day in the middle of December we selected names for our Secret Santas and I thought nothing of it, besides the fact that I am generally not particularly good at gift giving, especially when it comes to strangers. The first Friday arrived and I dropped off my gift in the break room. During my lunch, later, I found a package marked “ALEX” sitting on the table there and, while several of my coworkers watched, I opened it up.

It was a rubber spatula.

Now, several people to whom I’ve recounted this story have responded that there’s nothing abnormal about giving someone a spatula, but you have to admit that it’s a very weird gift, especially when there was nothing else with it. If it was part of a baking related set, or if any of my coworkers at the time were aware of the fact that I was fond of domesticity then it might have been acceptable. It could conceivably have just been a totally random gift. I guess it does have a nice green color.

It didn’t matter what the giver’s intention was. I turned bright red, despite my best efforts to play it off. For my entire life, I’ve been paranoid that people look at me and can tell that I’m a spanko, and this seemed like some kind of terribly cruel evidence that this is the case. I hid the spatula in my locker for about a week before I felt brave enough to bring it home, and when I did, I threw it in the pile of implements in the bedroom because I couldn’t imagine myself using it for cooking. It has yet to see any kind of use.

I would have greatly enjoyed if this was the end of my work related spanking stories, but alas, this is not the case. About a week before I went away for the holidays, I received a particularly hard spanking. I had a large and extremely tender bruise on the lower part of my bottom on the right side and on the top of my right thigh. Perhaps my least favorite thing about this particular job is the fact that I have to wear pants while working (which is the subject of a whole other post entirely) and said pants are extremely uncomfortable against a sore bottom. The day after this spanking, I was walking through work and trying to pretend that every step I took didn’t feel like someone was tightly grabbing my bruises and rubbing them with sandpaper. While doing this, I ran into my favorite coworker. He’s a bit older than I am, physically attractive, educated, witty, clever and amusingly bossy towards me. I’ve harbored fantasies that the rubber spatula came from him because he’s secretly a spanko, too, but I also know that my amazing luck for meeting awesome spankos in vanilla life isn’t going to last forever and that’s probably not the case.

This particular day, my coworker asked me to do him a favor which, being the polite and helpful girl I am at all times, I sarcastically refused and instead stuck my tongue out at him. I was, however, not expecting what happened next. My coworker gripped me by the shoulders, spun me around and gave me a playful but firm swat on the backside. By sadistic luck, he hit me directly on my bruise and I let out a yelp.

I knew that I had technically been sexually harassed, and I was hugely embarrassed by the fact that it happened, but on some level, I was rather pleased about it. As long as no one had seen, I saw no reason why it should ever be brought up again, since it clearly did me no harm and was meant in good fun.

Unfortunately again, someone did see. A coworker reported it, and the two of us got called into the main office and scolded about sexual harassment and how I should have reported it straight away and how “spanking is not appropriate for the work place.” I nearly died.

Because this story involves me, however, it gets worse. The whole thing was not a particularly private ordeal. Several people knew about what happened, it turns out, and they all talked to their friends and soon I overheard someone saying “Alex? You know? The girl who got spanked?” when referring to me.

That’s a very accurate nickname for me. Alex-the-girl-who-got-spanked. Except it isn’t so much in the past tense most of the time.

So now, when I’m working there, my coworkers make spanking related jokes to me whenever they can.
“Get spanked recently, Alex?”
“Having trouble sitting today?”
“Better do what you’re told so you don’t get spanked again!”

They have no idea how true these statements are. Unless they’re reading right now, that is. 0_0

Posted in Daily Life | Tagged Adventures, Daily Life, Vanilla life, Vanillas | 12 Comments

Shit (Spanko) Girls Say

Published December 29, 2011

A couple weeks ago, I was introduced to Shit Girls Say and it was full of win. It’s funny because it’s so true (which is a phrase I’m pretty sure is on the list) and I catch myself saying those things all the time, even though I don’t see myself as a typical girl. Being an incorrigible spanko, I’ve been compiling a similar list of things that spanko bottom girls say. The majority of this is based on stuff that HeatherFeather, Ami and I say to each other and to our respective tops.
I present to you, the first installment of “Shit (Spanko) Girls Say.”
“That really hurt!””Why are you so mean?!””He totally murdered me!””I can’t believe I bought this!””Will you take a picture of my butt?””No! Not that!””Hey, let’s go look at hairbrushes.””I can’t believe you would do that!””You tricked me!””That looks mean.””You could spank someone with that!””Do we have any lotion?””I’m still shaking!””I need a hug.””Woah, this is really heavy.””You said we were done!””Are you spanking me again tonight?””If we do that, then we’re gonna get caught!” “Not there!””That’s the inside of my thigh!””Way to throw me under the bus.””I’m in so much trouble, so I wanted to talk to you before I get killed.””What is that even MADE OF?””Unacceptable!””Do I have to?””I need new panties.””She looked awkward. I wonder if she’s a spanko, too.””This is really flexible.””He looked at me funny. I’m pretty sure he knows.””Can you still see marks on me?””Do we have an ice pack?””It was totally not my fault.””That’s where the tip of it hit me.””I can’t sleep. I need a spanking.””Look at all my tears!””I WISH that would break!””Do you think you could spank someone with a bird perch?””Are you still sore, too?””When you were a kid, did you look it up in the dictionary?” “OMG, I felt that way, too!””Do we have time to go to the kitchen section?””Do you really want to buy that?””I’m using arnica, do you want some?””Then he told me to… actually, I can’t repeat that. Ugh.””It was too horrible for words!””It’s bulletproof. It can’t break. I’m stuck with it.””He wouldn’t do that… would he?!””It was seriously like I was on fire.””Quit exaggerating! It was only like, 20 strokes!””Awww, you poor thing!””Ugh, I hate saying that word.””Does my butt look good at this angle?””Someone’s here. Talk vanilla!””I wish I marked more!””I wish I didn’t mark so much!””He’s so horrible! I love him!””What are we going to tell them it’s for if they ask?””I cried SO HARD.””I like your butt better than mine.””I want that, but I’m scared.””He uses that on you?!””I didn’t even get a warm up!””Wait! What are you doing?!””I’m not ready yet!””I can hardly sit.””I kept waking up because I rolled over.””It’s been so long since I got spanked! I’m dying!””Wanna see my welts?””Grab something else, I don’t want to just buy this.””Let’s go to the bathroom so I can show you what happened.””Then he was like ‘Go get the hairbrush’ and I died.” “Bye! Been nice knowin’ ya!””Then his voice got all low and serious…””If you’re a wuss then I don’t know what I am.””We have different definitions of ‘bad.'””It was not as bad as I expected.””It was way worse than I thought it would be.””But what if he does?!””Sorry I’m being like this. I haven’t been spanked in weeks!””Sorry, I was in the corner.””Ugh, she cries fake.””I wish she would close her legs while getting spanked.””Did you see that one guy’s hands?””We have time to go to Bed, Bath and Beyond still.””I can’t decide if I’m excited or terrified.””He wanted to have sex with me. Ew.””My panties came all the way off and now I can’t find them.””I’m sick. You can’t spank me.””What was that for?!””I thought it was never going to be over!””One sec, I have to make a sandwich.””I don’t want to ask for it though.””I hope no one could hear me.””That’s a regular thing to say, right? Not a spanking thing?””He’s into sensation play, though.””I could just really use a good spanking right now.””Have you ever seen a bruise look like this before?””I’m hiding this.””Can you take paddles through Airport Security?””I’m really sore.””I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want him to spank me with it.””Want to hear something horrible that happened?””Okay, we have an hour. We can get it done before he gets home.””I like getting spanked with you!””He has a good rhythm.””He’d make a good top.””I have no sense of self preservation.””That’s not even safe!””I’m getting a doctor’s note about that.””It just wasn’t a good scene.””He’s just not mean enough.””That was WAY TOO MEAN.””I think I have a blister.””You’re never doing that again, right?””Are these panties too slutty for spanking?””Yeah, but she’s into like, bondage and wax play and stuff.””I can’t believe you said that to him!””This scene could use a spanking.””You know whose butt her butt looks like?””Sometimes I just want to be around spankos, you know?””Hit HER with it now!””I can hardly fit my butt in my jeans, it’s so swollen.” “That’s not aftercare, that’s torture!””I’m not done crying yet.””I wish I was snarky like you.””I’m just way too good.””Awww, he did that because he loves you!””I don’t want to pick.””Okay! I’m doing it! You don’t need to get the cane!””He was being really mean about it. It was so cute.””You’re not spanking me again, are you?””Seeing that hurt ME!””You’re so red! I’m jealous!””I changed my mind! I don’t want another!””Do you have time to spank me before work?””Am I walking funny?””Not the thighs!””Wait, you’re not really going to do that, are you?””That really, really hurt!”
This is the entire collection for tonight. Feel free to add to the list in the comments section, giving it your particular brand of spanko flare 😀

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Lists, Shit Spankos Say | 6 Comments

Malignus’ Birthday, My Thighs and Other Fun Stuff

Published December 27, 2011

Merry Christmas, everyone! I’m on holiday until the 3rd, which means that I’ll hopefully get a lot written and stored for your enjoyment in the coming weeks. I hope everyone has been enjoying whatever they celebrated.

For my, celebrations began with Malignus’ birthday on the 22nd. HeatherFeather and I had a bunch of fun preparing things: we blew up a billion black and red balloons and filled the house with them, got him some gifts and a cake and made a most delicious dinner. The cake was pretty much the best part, though: it’s so him:

You can see from this photo that another spoon was obtained. That was from HeatherFeather, with the condition that only I get hit with it. Because, you know, THAT’S fair. The spoon is from the same series as Warren, and the couple of whacks I got with it make it obvious that it isn’t going to be my best friend.
On the right side of the table, you’ll see a tube of Capzasin that I bought out of my own free will. Don’t freak out. I’m not insane, I promise.
Well, maybe a little. Or it’s just that whole thing with the lack of self preservation.
Doing that meant a lot for me in terms of submission, because I hate it pretty much more than any other thing. Just say the word and my face gets sad (the other night, I got scrunchy faced over the word “capsized” in a video game :P). That said, I’ve been trying to strike a balance between enjoying the fear that comes with partnering with a sadist and knowing that what happens to me is largely outside of my control and not getting irrationally terrified of anything and creating undue anxiety for myself. My feelings towards Capzasin were way too far over onto the side of irrational fear, and it seemed like an appropriate and beautiful thing to do to give up my protesting and indulgence of fear and take solace in not having control. I even ASKED FOR IT the other night, although I did a horribly pathetic job of it. I was snuggling after a spanking and I wanted to ask, even though I really, really did not want to receive it, just because I wanted to be able to accept it and be relaxed about it. I kept sighing as I tried to and failed, and after prompting I finally got the question out in that dumb, quiet, monotone voice. He said no, which made me incredibly happy. Usually getting myself psyched up over something and having it not happen is displeasing, but this worked out well. I’m hoping that next time it comes up, I’ll be able to remember my active part in things and that doing so will allow me to move more easily into submission. Hopefully someday soon, I’ll be able to ask for unpleasant things in a voice that gives the seriousness due to the situation (that is, not being excessively nonchalant) but which isn’t “um uh excuse me could I please… have that thing?”
I know that some people think that’s torture-horrible and should never be done, but it’s important to remember that, like a lot of things that are truly unpleasant, (like my nylon cane, or my lexan paddle, or thigh spanking at all) it serves a purpose within my relationship and I have, despite my dislike of it, I get something quite noteworthy from it in terms of submission.
Anyway, on Malignus’ birthday he gave us his birthday spankings. I was always pretty sure that those were supposed to be kind of light and fun, but Malignus gave HeatherFeather and I his with an acrylic cane. >_< It was fun, however, because it was the first time that HeatherFeather and I got spanked side by side, and that made the experience far more enjoyable. He did, however, hit me really, really hard 30 times (29 for his birthday, and 1 on my thighs because I said I was “fine” at the end when Heather asked instead of talking about how sore I was :P).
A few minutes later, I somehow got myself into a situation where I had the front of my thighs caned. He’d done it to another one of my friends one time, but never to me (although he’d hit me there with Jenny and lots of times with his hand) and the other day he hit HeatherFeather there twice. Heather had told me to ask him to do it to me, and because I have NO SENSE OF SELF PRESERVATION WHATSOEVER and will always say “Okay!” to something horrible that Malignus wants to do to me for “fun” I agreed and asked him to.
Holy cow, that hurts. The first two were pretty bad, and then I was matched with Heather. Then he asked me if I wanted as many as he’d given my other friend, and I said yes. The next two made me sob. It was incredibly hard to have what was happening be right in front of me: the psychological factor is 99 percent of things for me, and the sight and sound of an implement in motion have been known to make me gasp or cry out even if they never hit me. Knowing that those strokes were destined for a very sensitive part of my body was incrediscary. When those two were done, he asked me if I wanted one more, so I’d have done more than everyone else, which is just mean, because he knew that there’s no way I could say no to that. I had a hard time submitting to that last one, though, especially when he tapped it between two existing welts. I had to hide my face in a pillow. I was disappointed in myself for not being particularly submissive for the last stroke, but I know I’ll have other chances and I can just use that as a push to be awesome in the future.
The marks looked like this when it was over:

That brown bruise is from where he hit me on the inner thigh with a “squirt” cane from Cane-iac a week or so earlier.
The next day, it “bloomed” and looked a lot worse… on one side, that is:

The side where the cane ended was incredibly more sore than the “near” side, which healed up quite nicely. The feeling of unevenness was really weird and awkward. It bothered me so much that I asked Malignus to even things out, but he refused because it amused him on a sadistic level.
I really, really enjoy being a vessel for sadism. I can enjoy playing with tops who are not sadistic as long as they truly love spanking, but there is really nothing that warms my heart more than knowing that something is horrible simply for the purpose of his enjoyment. I know that I sometimes whine and pout about the agony, but it makes me feel loved and it makes me feel like I’m being unabashedly myself. On Christmas Eve, Malignus hit me with a dishtowel (seriously!) in such a way that it made me cry. The absurdity of it was funny, and he was very, very pleased with himself and as I was crying, I felt very loved and like something was extremely right. It’s a very hard thing for me to articulate, so I’ll work on it for another time.
By the end of the week, HeatherFeather had left our apartment, not to return for some time, we celebrated Christmas together and then, on Christmas Day, I flew out to visit my remaining family of origin. I’ll be here until next Tuesday. I had a hard time leaving, because I find my family of origin stressful, it’s a difficult time for them right now to begin with and because, quite frankly, I don’t like leaving Malignus. I am taking a lot of comfort in the fact that when the week is over, I’m going home to him instead of it being that I visit him for a week and then leave. I imagine that coming back after the trip is going to make it feel even more home-like to me, and that’s a very nice idea.
My cousin was recently engaged, but she’s spending the holidays apart from her fiance, as they’re both with their families of origin in different states. She showed off her ring at the dinner table and talked about how she liked having something that came from him and showed his love for her on her body and how it made her never feel without him. While everyone was saying “awww,” I silently lifted the hem of my skirt and gently poked at the welts and bruises on the front of my thigh ;).

Posted in Daily Life | Tagged Birthdays, Daily Life, Happiness, Holidays, Mushiness, Special Occasion Spankings, Submission, Thighs | 3 Comments