I realized that I left a very important announcement off my blog: Heather came back!
In case you haven’t been following along, Heather is one of my best friends and a fellow spanko bottom. I met her through Malignus over fetlife, and she was actually the first person outside of LA that I met from the internet when we visited her in Northern California on my way back from visiting a girlfriend up there. The two of us got along swimmingly, and a friendship that I hope I’ll have for the rest of my life was born. She came to LA to help me move to South Dakota, and because of changing situations in her life, she ended up staying out here with Malignus and I for two months. Now she’s back, and she’ll be with us for a few more months. It’s VERY nice having her here. We have a lot of fun together, she helps me with girl stuff, we get spanked together and we decided to start making videos together.
Long before I ever thought I’d be a spanking model, Heather and I made a video in which she spanked me with celery stalks. It was the first video of a spanking I was ever involved in. We did this because it was a weird train of connections and inside jokes and we’re just strange girls like that. We’ve since then talked quite a bit about other videos that we could make that included strange implements. You have to remember that the two of us go through pretty much any store and find things that we think could be used to spank someone. It’s like a hobby for us.
From these ideas, we created the idea for “Does This Hurt?!” It’s a mini-series of free spanking videos in which Heather and I will spank each other with strange pervertables to see which ones hurt and which ones don’t. We’ve only filmed the first episode thus far, but you can expect things ranging from the “almost normal” to the “0_0” (but nothing gross. Don’t worry!)
Our first video is entitled “Trout” and features a cutting board which was purchased at a Sioux Falls area thrift store. I can’t tell you why, but I think that it is the most freaking hilarious thing ever. I can’t stop saying the word “trout.”
Please enjoy the first video. We’re aiming to release one per week.
This post is, as my holiday and special occasion posts tend to be, slightly belated. Oh well! Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Blogland!
St. Patrick’s Day is a holiday that I primarily stopped celebrating after I graduated from college. In Los Angeles, I first lived in an extremely hispanic neighborhood, then in Chinatown. Not a lot of Irish going on in those parts. I also greatly decreased the amount of getting excessively intoxicated that I was up to after graduation, and what kind of fun can be had on St. Patrick’s day without getting totally plastered?
The answer is spanking fun. The whole thing started with a shirt that scotchgrove got me which reads “Spank Me I’m Irish.” To get the question out of the way before I get into it, I’m only a quarter Irish. The rest of me is English, Polish and Panamanian. I’m still Irish enough to get spanked for it, as far as I’m concerned! This is my second spanking related t-shirt. This one, however, is plain looking enough that scotchgrove encouraged me to wear it in public. I set my mind on doing so.
On Friday I had the day off from work. Malignus left me with a list of things to do, which I affirmed that I would accomplish. I then took a nap (because my sleep schedule had remained disturbed) and when I got up and got ready, I decided it would be a good time to take some photos with the t-shirt and a pair of St. Patrick’s Day panties that I picked up. I set up my laptop’s camera and did a mini photoshoot in the bedroom by myself. I then figured out how to make a photo collage online.
Shortly after I completed this, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find the UPS man standing there with a very long box. There aren’t nice things that come in boxes like that. Besides, scotchgrove had been threatening me with more murder-presents (horrible implements as gifts) for a while. The title of this post gives away what was in said long box: it was a sjambok of my very own. It was hard to be appreciative.
Now, as a general rule, I don’t talk about disciplinary things on my blog unless they’re part of a larger point. This is because I don’t want to glorify my bad behavior (or sometimes even share something like that publicly) and because discipline is a very private and personal part of my life. I’m going to deviate from that standard for a bit because this story is entertaining and very worth sharing.
Imagine that you’re a girl in a D/s or DD relationship (perhaps you needn’t imagine at all!). Now imagine that you’ve just received the worst implement imaginable as a gift when you were at home waiting for your partner to return from work. You have a set of things you are expected to get done. What would you do?
If you have half a brain and don’t like getting hit with sjamboks, your response would probably be something along the lines of “get my chores done before doing anything else.”
scotchgrove described the situation the best when I told him ex post facto: “For such a smart girl,” he told me, “you can be pretty stupid sometimes.”
I figured I could spend more time on the internet and talking on the phone and doing other unnecessary stuff before I needed to get everything done. It’s not a good skill to have, but I am kind of a pro at hustling chores out at the last minute.
|That’s pretty much me.|
My confidence got the best of me and I ended up wasting the day away. I was still at the grocery store when Malignus got home from work. Going to said store was the first thing from my list of chores that I had done all day.
On the way home, my brain could pretty much be documented like this:
My powers of deduction and ability to predict events were rather flawless. Upon my return home, I promptly confessed that I had not completed my chores, and Malignus promptly provided me with clearly required discipline using (SURPRISE) my brand new sjambok.
To my credit, I lay still through the approximately 20 strokes I received like a boss. I guess that’s not really to my credit: it’s not that hard to submit to something when you know that you were REALLY dumb and REALLY deserve it.
None the less, I was clearly extremely contrite when my correction was complete:
Meanwhile, Heather and I were inspired by my little photoshoot and decided to do something that we’d long talked about but never actually done: start making videos. Heather went out and got us matching green panties. I dug out all our green implements. We both found green t-shirts. We had a plan and we were ready to execute it the next day.
On St. Patrick’s Day proper, we filmed a series of three videos that have our “signature” lighthearted, friendly nature to them. We’re still getting used to making videos, so there are some imperfections, but all in all, I think you’ll enjoy them. Here they are:
I want to add that this is my first experience uploading things on spankingtube. I was pretty intimidated because I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about people being assholes on that site, but so far I can’t complain about how we’ve been received. I’d be down with higher ratings on my videos, but I know that they aren’t perfect either.
I’ve often daydreamed about a world where spankos took up enough of the market that pervertables marketed themselves towards us. Imagine a world where you could read the blurb on the back of the a hairbrush and have it point out that besides having high quality bristles for hair brushing, the spanking surface on the back is made of durable wood for an excellent combination of sting and thud.
Alas, this isn’t the case. No one seems to want to admit why, exactly, people prefer wooden spoons to the plastics and silicone coated one (I’m not even ALLOWED to use wooden spoons in the kitchen!) and the world seems to think that there are people who wash themselves with brushes in the shower (weird).
There is, however, some marketing being done to spanko bottoms in a very tricky way. The people who make pervertables are trying to sell more by subtly convincing us that they won’t be so bad. The first time I noticed this trend was when I saw a particular bathbrush show up on several people’s fetlife profiles. I recently purchased this for five dollars at Walmart:
No. Incorrect. I haven’t been hit with it yet, but I know for a fact that bathbrushes are neither of those things. I don’t think someone could make a bathbrush spanking nice if they tried.
I noticed the next one in a local cooking store and made a very scrunchy face indeed at the false advertising:
The brand on this wooden turner is “SoftWorks.” This doesn’t even make sense. It doesn’t have a soft and cushy handle. It isn’t meant to be used on something soft. It’s wood, for the love of all that is reasonable! Wood isn’t soft. I suppose wood chips could be soft, the kind one would use to line a rabbit hutch or something, but that’s the only time that wood can ever be described as anything other than hard.
Finally, my spanko-sister, PeachyKeane, sent me this as part of a care package:
I understand that this is a plastic hairbrush, but that doesn’t make it ouchless. If I’ve learned one thing in my spankolife, it’s that anything with a handle can be used for spanking and anything that can be used for spanking can be made to hurt. Even things that technically can’t be used for spanking (like a dishtowel) can be made to hurt. Don’t fall for this trap. I bet it can still be ouchful.
It’s a pretty clever method of increasing sales, though. A female bottom in the market for a brush for her hair could very well want to pick one that can’t also be used on her poor, innocent bottom. In the past, I’ve avoided this by choosing pink and girly hairbrushes that Tops wouldn’t want to touch. I’ve heard that other girls enjoy those entirely round brushes that have no spanking surface at all. Now that I’ve purchased four bathbrushes, when I put them all next to each other, the one that tells me it’s cruelty free DOES seem a little less terrifying. I’m not buying the “soft” wood, though. Screw you, wooden spoons. I’ve had more than enough of you recently! (Does this attitude come from a recent experience that has left me with residual soreness? Why yes it does.)
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).
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.
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.”
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.