I had a lot of downtime from blogging here, and I missed a lot of things that happened in my life. For now, though, I’m just going to pick back up with writing about what most recently happened. And that was today.
I’ve talked before about the difference between play punishment and real punishment. Play punishment is a big part of my daily life with Paul, where real punishment happens fairly rarely. Although I enjoy being naughty when it’s just-for-fun, being good and obedient in “real life” is important to me.
I don’t wear shoes in the house most of the time. This is primarily because I have a lot of pain in one of my knees and so I have to keep it straight if I’m sitting for long periods of time, such as when I’m working or writing, or watching TV, or playing video games… so a lot of the time. This leads to me usually sitting with my feet up on the couch or working from my bed with my laptop on my lap, like I’m doing right now. So, no shoes.
The first time that Paul went back to England after he had been here, I set up an outdoor sitting area for him as a surprise. We don’t have much of a yard, since our house is still in a semi-urban area, but underneath the camphor tree in our yard, I put a couple of chairs, a chiminea and a small table. Paul spends a lot of time sitting out here when he’s taking breaks from work. He sits in one of the chairs there and reads: Paul reads more than anyone else that I know, which is something that I really like about him.
So, when I want to find Paul to ask him something, or just to climb onto his lap for cuddling, I first check in his office. If he’s not there, he’s almost always in the yard. The problem is that when I want to go out into the yard to talk to him, I often don’t bother to put shoes on before I do this.
At first, I thought that the reason that Paul kept scolding me about this was because I then tracked a lot of leaves and things into the house on my feet, but this didn’t really matter that much, I didn’t think, seeing as Paul wears shoes in the house and we have really fuzzy cats, so the floors are almost always in need of sweeping up anyway. Admittedly, I really didn’t take being scolded when I didn’t wear shoes in the yard very seriously at first.
One day, though, I went out to talk to him and noticed that there were a lot of bees in the yard. In fact, I very nearly stepped on one while barefoot. This is a big problem, since I’m seriously allergic to bees. After that happened, Paul started being very serious about the “wear shoes when going outside” rule.
The problem is, I keep forgetting about it. I had made such a habit of just running out without bothering with shoes. Because I get to the backyard through the back door, which is located in the kitchen, there isn’t any room for me to just leave shoes by the door. I have to actually go find my shoes and put them on. Ugh. My life is so hard. 😛
Despite getting (not so severely) spanked for not wearing shoes in the yard several times in the past, I forgot about it again today. Paul was in the yard reading, and I had just finished watching the most recent video for Northern Spanking. At least half the time now, I make up the names for videos. I watch them once the editing is done, then I make a list of ideas and ask Paul which ones he thinks are the best. This time, I had pretty much decided which one was the best one, and I felt enthusiastic about zipping out the yard to let him know.
Of course, I did this without shoes on.
After I told Paul what I had decided on, and he agreed with me that it was good, I curled up in his lap to snuggle for a little bit. It was sunny and bright out, and I felt very content.
“How’s your tummy feeling?” he asked me, stroking my hair.
I had eaten a sandwich which was questionably not good earlier in the day and had been feeling a bit queasy. I told him that I still didn’t feel 100% right.
“Tell me when you do,” he told me, his voice sounding stern and serious. “I’m going to punish you for not wearing shoes in the yard.”
“Well, I’m never going to feel better,” I moped, trying to curl my toes up as if that would somehow make it less noticeable that I was barefoot. We both knew that wasn’t true, of course.
Soon, I was feeling pretty okay, and I went to the gym. This is a new thing: while I had previously only worked out at home, I’ve been actually going to the gym and following a routine there now. It’s kind of intimidating to me, because I don’t know what I’m doing with half the stuff there, but it’s really rewarding to see myself getting stronger and fitter.
I came home and took a shower, then got dressed again and found Paul in his office. It was time for more cuddling, of course. I seriously spend a pretty decent percentage of my days snuggled up to him when I can. I have to save up for later. 😉
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked. I nodded hesitantly: I couldn’t lie. “Go to your room,” he told me. Paul has a specific tone of voice that he only uses when I’m in real, actual trouble. It’s very tender and gentle, but extremely authoritative. The sound of that tone touches at the core of what D/s is about to me, and I would never disobey him when he talked to me that way.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments, waiting for him. It seemed like a very long time to me, but I knew that realistically, it wasn’t long at all.
Then he came into the room. He wasn’t carrying anything with him, which didn’t necessarily mean that I wasn’t going to get punished with an implement: there were several in the room already.
“Stand up, Alex,” he instructed.
I stood up next to him, looking up at his face.
“I’ve punished you for this before, haven’t I?” he asked.
I nodded sadly, not wanting to admit that I hadn’t really taken those minor punishments to heart before.
“Like almost all your rules, this is to preserve your safety and well being,” he lectured, reminding me about the fact that I could get stung by a bee or step on something sharp outside.
I felt guilty and I felt a little embarrassed. In my previous D/s relationship, I used to get punished for things that, primarily, annoyed or caused inconvenience to my ex. These things didn’t make me feel the same way. I felt like I was in trouble, then, and it felt real, but it lacked the feeling of being nurtured and taken care of. The fact that my rules exist because Paul cares about me and wants to protect me makes me feel particularly bad when I break them.
Paul sat down and pulled me over his lap, lifting the skirt of my dress to expose my bottom. Then he began to spank me with his hand. Each swat was particularly hard and forceful, much more than it would be if we were just playing. They stung and bit, and I found myself struggling over his lap a little bit: I was still slightly sore from the spankings I had received the two previous days.
Paul grabbed my hand and held it behind my back. He wasn’t pinning my wrist in place, just holding my hand there. It made me feel like I was very much under his control, but it was still an affectionate gesture. It calmed me, and I lay still, taking the spanking fairly quietly. It got to a point where I was sufficiently warmed that each hard swat didn’t hurt so much anymore, and things were almost becoming nice.
It was then that Paul stopped and instructed me to get up and to take off my dress. I did as I was told, folding my dress and setting it on the dresser behind me as Paul grabbed four pillows and put them in a tall stack on the middle of the bed.
“Over the pillows, bottom uppermost,” he instructed.
This is a very normal instruction for us. I like being in this position, with my bottom higher than the rest of my body. It makes me feel vulnerable. It makes me feel like I am on display. It makes me feel like my bottom is a very obvious target. All of these things make the submissive part of my brain hum happily.
Paul stood to one side of me, so he was in my field of vision, and then he removed his belt. He did it fairly quickly, with strong, sharp movements that foreshadowed how, exactly, it would be moving in just a moment.
He took his position and lay the belt on me, finding his mark. He did this motion a few times before the first stroke, and with each one, I whimpered as I awaited the biting sting that would soon be following.
After what seemed like ages, he snapped the belt down against my bottom. It hurt, but I was ready for it. The second and third strokes made me grunt and gasp a little. The fourth was particularly sharp, and it landed with a pinching feeling on my bottom, reminiscent of the tawse. I let out a wail. The strokes began to fall harder now, and each one solicited small cries from me.
After five strokes, he changed sides. This is something that Paul almost always does, and which very few people who I play with do. Because most people I play with tend to only swing from one direction, and it’s been this way for the past nine and a half years that I’ve been getting spanked, the opposite side is still somewhat less conditioned, so these strokes always hurt more. I gripped at my Rilakkuma cuddly toy (who I call “Fat Head”) and pressed my face into the plush material, as if this would bring me some kind of relief.
Once ten strokes had been delivered, I expected Paul to change sides again. Paul and I tend to play so that far fewer, but very hard strokes are delivered, usually of a set number. This is different from the way that I’ve played with a lot of other people, but it’s a headspace that has a strong effect on me. It feels formal, more like a school punishment. It feels very controlled, which is something that gives me great comfort and allows me to let go more during the scene.
Instead, Paul started to scold me again:
“You’ve been punished for this before, haven’t you?” he asked.
I nodded, my voice not coming through for me.
Paul’s only response to this was to tap the belt against my thighs.
I whimpered and lowered my head, knowing that this was really going to hurt. And, in a second, it did: a bright, blazing light of pain across the middle of my thighs. I let out a cry that probably sounded fairly desperate. The next several strokes landed this way, seeming to illuminate my entire body, each stroke feeling like it covered much more flesh than it actually did. I struggled to keep from reaching back, and sometimes raised my feet after the belt landed and had to force myself to move them back down before I was asked to.
Having my thighs spanked and otherwise punished has always been psychologically important to me. It’s the ultimate love/hate relationship, and I was fascinated with it even before I actually started to play. It always seemed like a punishment within a punishment: the harshest of sanctions.
When the belting was finished and my legs were striped by the strokes I had received, I felt very passive and chastised. I curled up in Paul’s lap, thanking him for punishing me, as is our protocol. I felt very young and very taken care of, and these are two of the feelings that I cherish the most that can come from this thing we do.
I’ll be careful with my shoes in the future, not because I’m afraid of being punished again, but because I know that it’s important and that Paul cares about me enough to make sure I know, and that’s the best feeling.
Last month, while I was in New Jersey, Dreams of Spanking released one of my favorite scenes that I’ve ever done. It’s called Playing Truant. We filmed it just under a year ago, when Pandora visited me and Paul in Los Angeles.
There are a lot of different kinds of spanking roleplay scenes that I like. I like positive scenes in which enthusiastic consent is obvious in the roleplay. I like nurturing scenes, with loving but strict discipline being meted out, preferably right before bed to a girl dressed in pajamas. I like strict and austere school scenes, full of formality, apprehension and the inevitability of punishment. I like scenes that get funny, with banter that is hard not to crack up at. And I get to experience these sorts of scenes quite regularly. Chances are, any given shoot I do is going to scratch my itch for an old fashioned, OTK spanking or a school punishment. It might not be my exact fantasy, but it gets pretty close pretty often. And when I’m not filming, it’s very easy to get people to do these sorts of scenes with me. They don’t require anything too complex, and they aren’t particularly challenging for either party to “get into.”
But there’s something else that I’ve always fantasized about, and which has become a much bigger interest of mine in terms of actual play in the past couple of years. That’s dark, non consensually themed scenes. These are scenes that I get to film very rarely, and that’s what I got to do during the shoot in question. I talked a lot about wanting to do this film in the behind the scenes footage that’s included with it, but there’s a lot more on the topic of darker scenes that I’d like to explore.
I’ve been interested in non consensual themes for as long as I’ve been interested in spanking itself. I didn’t know that consensual spanking was even an option on the table when my fantasies first blossomed. Still, because I wanted to be spanked, the characters in my fantasies didn’t offer much resistance to the punishment they were about to receive.
I don’t think my fantasies began to grow truly dark until I was a teenager. By then, I had a pretty decent understanding of the concept that I could enjoy the fantastical idea of something without in some way supporting something negative or dangerous. This is a complicated topic itself, and one for it’s own post at some point, but it was freeing for me when I came to this realization. Many of my fantasies began to center around power that is taken unfairly or used in ways it wasn’t meant to be used. These were my first fantasies to include sexual elements, and that sexuality was always very non-consensual.
When I came into the scene about four years ago, I stepped away from these fantasies for a while. They aren’t commonly portrayed in spanking media, and no one I got to know in the scene played that way. The thought of describing these desires to someone became uncomfortable to me, especially because I hold such strong opinions about consent “in the real world.” Besides, I had no practical experience combining my sexuality and my kink, and I was very uncomfortable with the concept of putting it into practice. I wasn’t sure if I would even like those sorts of scenes in reality, and I didn’t feel comfortable to share that sort of darkness with anyone.
It takes an incredible amount of trust to want to play with someone this way. Specifically, you have to trust that the fantasy you are enacting is just a fantasy, and not a real desire for someone to do harm. You have to trust that the character your partner is playing is a character, and not a revelation of their hidden, true nature. You have to trust them to use the vulnerability you are about to give them only in the ways that you’ve consented to and with your best interests in mind.
At the same time, you have to trust them not to be afraid of you. When you explain to someone that you want to do something which is dark and taboo, you have to trust them not to judge you. You have to trust them to still respect you as a strong and capable person after you’ve shown them that you want to be helpless and victimized in a scene. You have to trust them to find a balance of taking your fantasy seriously while knowing that the character you want to be isn’t the way you want to be treated outside of the fantasy. You have to trust that if you push back and protest and get angry in the scene, that they won’t be hurt or offended in real life. You have to both understand that a scene is a scene, and as long as things go the way they are negotiated, what happens there doesn’t negatively effect things outside of the scene space.
In short, it takes everything that one worries about when going into BDSM in the first place and intensifies it.
The process of building that kind of trust with Paul took place over a couple of months, as we got to know each other. We first started to play together on camera, and that was very liberating. There are clear boundaries set in terms of what is a scene and what is real life when the camera is rolling. When you call “cut!” then it goes back to the real world and you can feel assured that, if the scene is going badly for you, that transformation from scene-space to “real life” will be immediate. There’s also comfort to be taken in the fact that everyone involved knows that what you do in the scene is simply acting. I had a lot of hang ups about resistance vs. being a “good” submissive and taking whatever I was given without reaction at that time in my life, but when I was playing for the camera, none of that mattered. There were a few hiccups as Paul and I transitioned to playing off camera, where I took things too seriously, but he was always supportive and loving towards me, even before we started dating. It didn’t take long before I could just relax and trust him, and once that happened, our play really took off.
Paul and I started actually dating during a time when he was in England and I was in the US, and we were making plans to get together at a cabin for an extended visit. During this time, I watched an incredible amount of spanking porn. It was the most I had watched since I was a teenager. I primarily watched Northern Spanking, but I also watched a lot of Dreams of Spanking and, since I had recently shot for the site and had therefore received a performer account for the first time, I began to explore Nimue’s World. I remembered that Paul had done a few films for this site, so I checked them out.
One of the films which he had acted in was called “I’ve Seen You” and it was very similar to the scene that I ended up doing for Dreams of Spanking. It involved Nimue playing a school girl who behaves sluttily, and Paul being a skeezy business man who was been watching her out the window. He follows Nimue home and, when she won’t respond to his sexual advances, beats her thighs severely with the tawse.
I became pretty obsessed with this film. I even saved it to my phone so I could watch it when I was out of the house. It was pretty much the hottest thing I had ever seen in my life. In my mind, it would have only been able to be hotter if there had been actual “forced” sex involved.
I was able to communicate with Paul about what kinds of scenes I was craving before we got to the cabin, and because we have unprecedented compatibility, what we wanted was very much in line. I relaxed and was able to play without worrying about outside things: that trust had been built, and it was built in a way which was pretty unbreakable. There was one other thing I wanted, though, which hadn’t been brought up before.
Asking someone for something like a dark, non-consensual scene with a lot of resistance and themes of forced sex isn’t the easiest thing to do. However, I had a wonderful tool in starting this conversation: porn. Specifically, I had the scene that he had done with Nimue. When I got up the courage to talk to him, all I had to say was “Remember that really dark scene that you did with Nimue?” Paul, of course, remembered. “I want to do something like that,” I told him. And so we did. Like that. It was magical and perfect, and it became something we can do when we want to.
When Pandora came to visit us last year, Paul and I both shot scenes for Dreams of Spanking. I don’t remember how the conversation came up, but I decided that I wanted to do a scene like this on video. Doing it on video was different only in that I had to worry about what people would be comfortable seeing. I was a little worried that people would be unsettled by some parts of the scene that I wanted to do, but I also kind of give 0 fucks about the limits that other people want to put on my sexuality and figured that Pandora would give viewers fair warning that the film included edgy, consensual non-consent situations.
Before we filmed the scene, Pandora interviewed both of us fairly extensively. This is important when showing people who aren’t familiar with us as people or as a couple a film that has these extreme themes in it, and the fact that I knew Pandora would do this is part of the reason why I felt so comfortable doing this scene for Dreams of Spanking. We both talked for a long time separately, and then together. I feel like it was one of the rare times that I was able to be articulate when being verbally interviewed, although at one point I got a little emotional and teared up when talking about what it’s like to be in a relationship where I’m loved as much as I am in this one.
The entirety of this interview is available for free on youtube. Oh, look, I embedded it for you!
This video is basically a 20 minute documentary on our relationship, which is a pretty special thing to have, when you think about it!
After we finished the interviews, we filmed the scene. In my opinion, it was one of the hottest things that ever happened in history. It was made more hot by the fact that I was aware that I was being filmed, that Pandora was watching this unfold and that Ten was in the other room and could hear us. I imagined strangers on the internet watching me in such a vulnerable state and the thought excited me. I felt wonderful to take what had felt like my ultimate taboo activity and put it in the public eye. It was freeing and liberating.
At one point, while we were in the middle of filming the scene, there was a knock on the door. Paul left me lying naked on the couch and went and opened it. I was afraid that it was the police: I had been yelling and protesting while he was beating me for the past several minutes, after all. Instead, I heard a meek voice say “We are missionaries…”
Paul didn’t break character at all. “That’s nice. Bye,” he said, slamming the door. As he walked back over to me, I realized that he still had the tawse in his hand. No missionaries have come to our house ever since. 0_0 I’m kind of disappointed that Pandora turned the camera off before Paul opened the door. It was pretty epic.
The scene itself was epic, too, and it ended with the implication of forced sexual activity (no, there is no actual penis in the film). This was my idea to include, and the negotiation of it was making it something that Paul was comfortable with filming. I love the fact that this is included in the behind the scenes, too. I think it’s important to show that Tops’ limits are equally as important as those of bottoms.
After a scene this intense, I needed a lot of cuddling, although I wasn’t upset by it. I was actually very joyful, but slightly disoriented from all the endorphins. If you watch the behind the scenes footage, you’ll hear me talking in my happy, childlike voice and giggling as I snuggle on Paul’s lap. That’s another thing that I think is important for people to see: that everything about this scene had a positive effect on me.
The whole point of Dreams of Spanking is that it’s about the women and their gaze, instead of the women being objects for men to view. Every scene that I do is about me, but I’ve never felt like a scene was more about me as a person. This took something that I felt like I had to keep hidden from people and celebrated it. We did it my way, with my partner, in my home. All of the behind the scenes footage shows people who I am. I remember snuggling on Paul’s lap after we filmed this and just feeling good about myself.
Very few people commented on this scene, and a couple of people let me know that, despite all the behind the scenes materials, it made them uncomfortable. But I was elated to see that Girl on the Net wrote about wanting to use this scene as a negotiation tool in a post to the Dreams of Spanking blog. It was particularly exciting to me because if it wasn’t for Nimue’s World, I don’t know if I would have even known how to bring the subject of wanting to play this way up to Paul. I feel like, in a way, I was able to pay that forward with this film. I hope that people who share my fantasies will enjoy the scene, but I hope that others who don’t can still understand the importance of it. There’s nothing wrong with having taboo fantasies that you act out in a healthy, well negotiated, safe way. ❤︎
It is now time for me to share my adventures in the next four months of 2013, continuing on from my last post.
Oh, May. May is my favorite month of the year, and always has been. I have seasonal depression (SAD) and, unfortunately, I spent the bigger portion of my life living in places where April was still quite solidly a winter month. Sure, there were spring days in April, but they were teases. April came into my room and took her top off, got me really excited, then “got tired” and left for the night, never to return. May, however, has always consistently delivered. I meet Springtime with a passionate euphoria. I love everything about it. I love the smell of grass, the greenness of the world, watching buds grow and swell and then finally bloom. I love spring rain, flowering trees, the return of song birds and the off chance of meeting a baby animal in the wild. This May, my entire life went to bud as I emotionally began to recede from a long and cold period of winter. By May, there was no denying that I was deeply and passionately in love with Paul. At the start of the month, I went down to Texas to see Mila, WYO and LLB. They all constantly commented on the fact that they had never seen me so happy. I couldn’t remember ever having been so happy, either. To quote James Wright, “Suddenly, I realize that if I stepped out of my body I would break into blossom.”
During my visit to Texas, Mila and I had lots of wacky hijinxes, I got soundly spanked by WYO, I had more root beer floats than a girl is probably supposed to in a week, I ate the world’s most delicious barbecue and I spent a long time lying by the pool or soaking in the hot tub with LLB. After that, I took a week or so back in South Dakota before heading to Denver, where I hung out with Amoni some more, visited with my friends DarkSteven and DarkStevensGirl, hung out with Sophie and Danny and filmed for Real Spankings again. Then, after I’d been there for about a week, Paul came to visit me. It was our first time being together as a couple, as our relationship had grown and developed in the time since I had left England. I was a jittery mess as Amoni took me to meet him at the airport; entirely unable to contain my excitement. Finally, I saw him from across the room and ran into his arms. Time seemed to stop for a while as we kissed passionately.
I wrote about the first night that we arrived at the cabin where we spent nearly two weeks, but I didn’t ever tell any other stories. So, instead of picking a clip from my writing about that month, here are a few scenes which I’ve never (publicly!) written about before:
On one of our first days there, I packed us a lunch of sandwiches, pretzels and lemonade, plus a whole container full of gummy bears for me and we went on a picnic for lunch. I had a lot of fun frolicking around, and on the way, we saw a whole troop of adorable young Elk. Afterwards, we went to a lake which was actually a dam of some sort, with something to do with a very big tube transporting water in a way which was somehow impressive (this is really showing how much attention I was paying during this field trip! I was mostly looking for more animals to befriend! -_-) and which Paul was very interested in. We followed a path up a hill so that he could see some sort of building relating to this, and I played around, climbing on things and doing whatever it is that I do when left to my own devices for a few minutes.
“You know what else places like this are good for?” Paul asked me, once he had finished what he was doing.
“Climbing on rocks?” I asked, as I hopped down. I gently caressed my face.
“Smacking my naughty girl’s bottom outdoors,” he told me, sitting down on the rock I had just been chumbling over. There was no one around and no sign that anyone would be approaching anytime soon. There weren’t even any woodland creatures to witness my spanking, as my search for them earlier had been a total bust. Yet I still felt shy and coy as I slunk over to his side and carefully positioned myself over his lap. The air was cool on my bottom as he lifted my skirt, and the first SMACK seemed impossibly loud. Besides being noisy, and delightfully embarrassing, the crisp mountain air made my bottom feel more sensitive, and I soon found myself wiggling as the smacks continued to fall. This scene didn’t last long, but it was incredibly exciting. I was wearing a particularly short dress that day, and I kept holding it down in the back as we walked back to the car, which made Paul laugh.
A few days before this scene took place, I had been sitting on Paul’s lap getting snuggled while he was seated at the desk in the cabin’s study (presumably he’d been trying to do work, but I had required attention and had climbed on him, a behavior which has become a staple of our daily life). Eventually, though, mischief took over, and I had opened the drawer of the desk to discover that there was a piece of chalk there. Paul was wearing a black shirt. It seemed that the only reasonable thing to do under these circumstances was to doodle on his back while we were cuddling. He didn’t notice what I was doing, and only ever did because I couldn’t help my giggling about ten minutes later. I had been put over his lap and spanked, and I had promised never to do it again. This day, however, I didn’t feel like keeping that promise, and as I snuggled in the same position, I once again opened the desk drawer to look for the chalk. Unfortunately, Paul had been clever and had confiscated the chalk. I was disappointed, so I started to investigate what other options I had. I discovered a few colored paperclips, and I started to clip those to the back of his shirt collar.
“What are you doing, Alex?” he asked sternly.
“Nothing!” I said, as innocently as I could muster.
He reached back and pulled the paperclips off. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.
“A paperclip,” I replied, since this was the only reasonable answer to the question “What is this?” when one is holding a paperclip.
“This,” Paul corrected, “is abuse of stationary.” I snorted. “You’re going to be punished for this,” he told me. “Go sit on the sofa and wait for me.”
I galavanted off to the sofa, clearly getting what I wanted. In a minute or so, Paul returned with my hairbrush, which had been sitting on top of the dresser in the bedroom. He set it down and then pulled me over his lap. He began to spank me with his hand, quite hard and at a quicker pace than usual, and I soon began to whimper and struggle slightly, as my bottom had gotten quite sore since I was getting spanked, strapped, and caned quite regularly for the past week or so. After a few minutes of this, he began to smack the backs of my thighs. Over the course of the past six months or so, I’d been doing a lot less play which involved being spanked on my thighs, and not only had the psychological effect of it returned to a state of great potency, my skin had become less conditioned for spanking and was particularly tender. I soon started to cry out and wail, doing my best to be still but needing to be somewhat restrained with my hand held behind my back. Before I knew it, I had passed that threshold and burst into tears, but this didn’t signify any slowing in pace for the spanking (nor would I have wanted it to). It was a long scene, and by the time he finally released my hand and started gently rubbing my sore and swollen thighs and bottom, I had forgotten that he had come into the room carrying a hairbrush. No, that’s a huge lie. I was very well aware of what was lying on the ground not far from my face. I just hoped that Paul had forgotten it. In very short order, I was reminded that he had not, and he instructed me to hand it to him.
The hairbrush portion of the spanking was much shorter than the hand spanking had been, but I was sore and already crying, so it felt like it lasted forever. The particular hairbrush which he was using is primarily stingy, with a sharp bite. It has a shiny surface, and the pain of it *feels* shiny, as silly as that may sound. I was quite sure that I had a shiny surface, too, by the time that I gotten quite a few whacks with it. I did my best to take it like a good girl, though, and when it was over Paul pulled me up into a cuddle. My bottom and thighs felt like they were twice their usual size and my mind buzzed with endorphins.
“Sometimes,” he said, “I might choose to punish you particularly severely for something minor if I feel that you need it or if it pleases me to,” he told me. I felt a rush of submissive excitement at these words and basked in the feeling of unfairness, the world being entirely out of my control.
“Yes, Paul,” I whispered, clinging to him as I caught my breath. “Thank you for spanking me.”
“Good girl,” he praised.
I have approximately eleventy trillion scenes from this time that I want to eventually share, but I figure that I can always go back to favorite memories in later posts. There’s no statute of limitations surrounding writing about spankings, after all!
Our cabin adventure lapsed into June, and once we eventually had to leave (I could have happily lived in that world forever) we headed for Daytona Beach, where we attended Florida Moonshine’s Tropical Beach Party. This was the only time I had ever visited Florida, or really anywhere on the Southern Eastern Seaboard, and I had a wonderful time. The party was different than any of the other national parties. It felt more laid back and relaxed, and it had fun and exciting things about it like games run by Strict Dave and a raffle in which you could earn tickets by participating in events. That said, for the first time ever, I fell into the habit of spending a lot of private time in my room with Paul, away from the rest of the party. I wanted to spend as much time focused on “us” as possible, since once the party was over he’d be flying back to England. Again, this month I’ll share a story I haven’t done before.
One night, my friend Zoey Wicks got the insides of her thighs cropped in the middle of the party suite, and being a (horrible/lovable) instigator, my friend _Morgan suggested that I should be next for this “fun” proceeding. Previously, I had always turned down invitations to play with riding crops, unless it was for film. They seemed too “BDSM-y” for me, and the word conjured up an image of a cheap toy that couples might buy at a trashy sex store to try and “spice up” their sex life. Zoey’s scene had looked exciting, though, and the crops in question were admittedly gorgeous (London Tanner creations). I was considering taking _Morgan up on his offer, but Paul decided for me that I would, indeed, be next. He then talked to _Morgan and Rainyspanker, who had just done Zoey’s cropping, and determined that each of them would give me five strokes, each taking care of one of my legs. I’d never had a scene negotiated for me by someone else. It seemed almost objectifying in a way which was extremely exciting to me. I’m sure that I was terribly loud as I squealed and shrieked with every stroke, and Paul watched with great delight. Rainyspanker’s strokes were harder than _Morgan’s though (this might have been the first time that _Morgan and I actually played together, and he didn’t know my reactions yet, so he was dialing it back, I think). Later that evening, the marks on my left leg had bloomed into what looked like purple “tags” due to the shape of the crop, but my right leg, although still a little sore, looked fine. This asymmetry wouldn’t do, so Paul borrowed one of the crops again and took me into a back room of the suite and sat me on the bed there. Seeing him holding the crop with his shirt sleeves rolled up and a frightfully determined look on his face instantly changed my opinion of riding crops from “pretty lame” to “one of the hottest things ever.” Having no reason to hold back, his five strokes made me wail, cry and sob, but I kept my legs open and took them as well as I could. Afterwards, he ran his fingers over the fresh welts, making me whimper and moan, and we went back to our room for some aftercare.
Eventually, the day came that Paul had to leave, and I felt pretty much sick with sadness. I knew I’d be seeing him in a couple of months, but I couldn’t bear the idea of being apart. Fortunately, that day _Morgan, our friend, S. and I were leaving to take a road trip from Florida to Dallas, where I’d once again be visiting WYO and LLB before heading to TASSP. This kept me quite well distracted! After lots of awesome visiting (we were also joined by Ten and Bettycrocker) it was the time for the party, where I shared a room with Christy Cutie in Sarah Gregory’s suite, and got to know both girls much better. Christy and I became a bit inseparable, and got up to lots of naughty business, including a very hot spanking and sensation play scene with Oak during “The Dark Party” and getting spanked by a friend who we nicknamed “The Arms” due to his muscley business.
I celebrated my 26th birthday in July, including a visit to the Sioux Falls Zoo, a trip to the trampoline park, two cakes, a new Hitachi (since my old one had met an untimely end when I tried to use it overseas) and a stuffed cuddly panda named Glenn, who remains one of my best friends. I was staying with my friend VNG01 at this point, and we had adventures pretty regularly, including late night trips to IHOP complete with lots of silly banter. My life was in full-force “transition mode” at this point, as I had officially decided to leave Sioux Falls and go live in Los Angeles again, and I was living full time at VNG01’s house in the meantime. Although Malignus had broken up with me in April, it was a difficult time as I began to fully remove myself from that relationship and focus on moving on with my life. It was during this time that Paul determined that he would be coming to live with me in Los Angeles, though, so I had a glowing light of stability at the end of the tunnel of transition.
One of the most fun parts of July was my semiannual trip to Chicago for the Crimson Moon party, where I spent lots of time with Drlectr and Ten, my beloved bad counterpart (theBadAlex) and Christy Cutie, among other wonderful people. We had an epic school roleplay complete with a gaggle of naughty school girls in uniform, desks, teachers, classes and report cards. We were supposed to get our report cards signed and turn them in, but in petulant protest, I refused to have my card signed by anyone but Paul and hid it in my planner until he arrived in Los Angeles, at which point he spanked and paddled me not only for my poor grades but for getting my report card signed two months late! Bad Alex and I also engaged in an awesome roleplay with Jon83 (one of my all time favorite tops!) which I later described like this:
…We played a scene with our friend Jon83 in which we were sisters who had been caught cutting school to go to the mall by our father. I really like roleplaying with Alex when we’re not even caught yet: we just banter back and forth as misbehaving girls and giggle an awful lot. When we came back to our hotel room (in the pretend, our home) after having snuck out of school, we were greeted by Jon, who was none to pleased with us. We then started to try to lie our way out of things. My lies were things like “We just ran home to get our books!” but Alex’s were things like “It’s National Alex Day! No one with our name is allowed at school! We have the day off!” This threw me into a fit of hysterics, and it reminded me of a detail that had never been discussed: we were supposed to be sisters of the same age with the same name. We made a series of jokes back and forth to each other as we tried to figure out why this was until Jon sent Bad Alex to the corner to separate us, pointing to her and saying “That one! Go to the corner!”
This was the only time in my life that I laughed while getting a hard paddling.
Following the party, I lingered at Joe and Ten’s for a while, where Prux and I got to spend some awesome time connecting, my favorite brother, Whooperine gave me lots of cuddles, Bad Alex was a total bitch and got me in trouble by JC, who proceeded to paddle me with a Jokari and there were lots of hilarious moments in general, especially those involving Korey and James Johnson. I think that Korey may be one of the people with whom I have the most compatible sense of humor ever, and we had each other in hysterics for most of the after-party, be it about Whooperine’s “God like” teeth or a particular clicking noise that James makes under certain circumstances.
In August, I had the craziest schedule of my entire life. I headed to NYC for a week near the start of the month and everything that could have been rescheduled, cancelled or changed was, including my flight back home. I finally got back to Sioux Falls the day before Epipelagic arrived to visit me. She had planned this visit in advance, and it was meant to give me some company and a connection back to the life that I had left in Los Angeles, but with the way things were going, it turned into more of a packing frenzy, since I would be leaving Sioux Falls for good the day after she went back to LA. She was such a sweet and supportive friend, and together we managed to get everything I own compressed via spacebag and then creatively packed into my sedan for my long road trip. It was difficult (but ultimately very healthy) to say goodbye to a place that I had lived for two years, even if my experience there had been less than ideal. I had made friends who I was certainly going to miss, VNG01 in particular. Once Epipelagic was back in LA, I started my own very indirect journey to the same place. My first stop was Denver, where I had more visiting with Amoni, DS and DSG, and did one of my favorite shoots for Real Spankings, including two scenes where I got spanked outdoors! From there, I drove down to Texas again, where I had a little R+R at WYO and LLB’s place, had a girl’s day out with Princess Kelley and spent some time visiting with my good friend Finneous. On my last day there, I picked up Mila and we started our road trip to Vegas for Shadowlane. Road tripping with a very anxious Alex in a car packed to the gills with everything she owned couldn’t have been the world’s greatest time, but we had lots of fun and plenty of laughs as Mila kept me upbeat, including my mistaking a cotton gin for “a motherfucking church” or a ziggurat, an ill-fated attempt to visit “Indian Ruins” for tourism fun which turned out just to be a lame ass gift store which was NAMED Indian Ruins and Mila spilling peach juice all over herself when I braked too quickly.
Shadowlane itself was quite a whirlwind. I got to see Maddy Marks, her boyfriend, Siq, Christy Cutie and handfuls of other friends, did an epically fun shoot for Triple A Spanking with Maddy and Christy and, having absolutely no sense of self preservation, got my hands tawsed by Mr. Allen again. This time, I didn’t end up on the floor gasping for breath, but I did make a screech of pain so pitiful that it made friends on the other side of the suite concerned about me. I also had some memorable scenes during the “Spankee Hawkins” uniformed event, where girls were meant to ask the Tops to play (something I’m not good at) and I was dressed in a Girl Scout uniform.
Finally, though, the party came to an end and it was time for Mila and I to drive the rest of the way to LA. We listened to California and Los Angeles themed songs as we drove, and I nearly cried with happiness. I knew that a wonderful chapter of my life was about to begin. ♥
I can’t guarantee when the final segment of this post will go up. I’m going to be spending the night at Lily Starr’s house tomorrow, and on Thursday I’m heading to visit Joe and Ten in Indiana for the weekend. I’ll do it as soon as I can, though: my goal for 2014 is NOT to lag months behind on my posting like I did in 2013!
The day after filming for Dreams of Spanking, Nimue, Pandora and I got up and got ready for another day of adventures in pornography: this time for Nimue’s World. In case you aren’t familiar with the site, Nimue’s World is a mixed fetish site with quite a bit of spanking content. It has other BDSM stuff, bondage, exhibitionism, girl sex and other good stuff mixed in, too. I honestly didn’t know a lot about the site before Nimue asked me to shoot for it. I just knew that Pandora had filmed for it previously. I looked at a lot of the preview materials before shooting, though, and decided that I liked the feel of it. It seems to emphasize the feeling of playtime, and it’s often very visually obvious to me that the people filming on the site like each other (sometimes, for some of the more horrible stuff, there’s a behind the scenes clip to make this more obvious) and I find that very comforting. As a model, it’s important to my content-viewing-enjoyment to feel that a site is overall positive about itself, its content and its cast, and I certainly got this vibe the first time that I viewed Nimue’s site.
Nimue and I filmed two videos and did three photosets. The first scene was one that Nimue wrote based on some of my preferences that I told her about during our pre-shooting email exchanges. Specifically, I told her that I like force, roughness and clothes ripping. I don’t think that these are things that people tend to associate with me, so I’m going to diverge for a minute here.
My primary, ideal kink scene is something that I think everyone who has read this blog for more than five minutes can probably identify: I like pretty domestic spanking scenes that mix affection, trust, vulnerability and physical intensity more than I like anything else. That’s at the very heart of my kink experience. All of the scenes that I’m interested in doing involve spanking in some way (or, for those who don’t consider it the same thing, involve beating me on the thighs. That’s nearly as important to my kink as traditional spanking is). There are a ton of other “kinds” of spanking scenes that also appeal to me, though. Role-play scenes. Ridiculous scenes. Super formal things. I like lots of variety, but for a long time, I was hesitant to explore physically rougher (in terms of handling) and emotionally darker scenes. At some point fairly recently, some switch flipped and I discovered that I found this to be delightful. I started testing the water with slightly less emotionally comfortable stuff from time to time, and it exhilarated me. This is a theme that I’ll discuss at more length later in my narrative, because there’s an episode in which it’s more relevant, but for now, I came up with the idea of having my clothes all ripped off and I was excited that Nimue included it.
I like this (in an obviously consensual environment) because it feels like it’s high on the scale of roughness, impatient, horrible, rapey. The scene that Nimue wrote was a bullying one, and I like that, too. It’s a scenario I’ve only ever explored during videos (well, on the receiving end, anyway. There are certain individuals who might claim that I am occasionally a bully to Mila). It works out pretty well for me, though. It allows me to play with my peers in a way that’s rough but which makes logical sense as to why the authority is set up. I like it because the authority is set up by force. That’s the name of the game. Nimue’s bullying scene set us at school. She was dressed in uniform, but because it was my first day, I just had on a dress and knee socks. I hadn’t received my uniform yet. Nimue told me to go get her book that she’d forgotten but needed for class, as part of the fine tradition of older, more experienced students bossing newbs around. I refused, unaware of said traditions. Nimue responded by bringing it: she pulled me to the floor by her hair, wrestled around with me, shoved me, ripped my dress off (it ripped gloriously, like it was designed to be torn off. It was kind of epic) and then started to slap me around. She spanked me, including doing it in very non-traditional positions and she rolled me over and slapped me on the breasts. This was pre-negotiated, although I’d never done it before.
Holy. Shit. That hurt.
It was a humbling experience to be hit in a way that was totally different than what I was used to and what fit into my kink picture. I often see myself as being a pretty heavy player. I’ve taken some epic beatings in my day. When I’m well, in a secure environment and playing with someone I love, I’ve never actually found an upper limit of what I can tolerate in terms of spanking. This reminded me that I’m not actually all that physically tough: I’m just good at taking spankings. As odd as it may sound, it felt really nice and refreshing to be reminded of that. It made me tremendously vulnerable, but I felt safe and trusting towards everyone who was around me. But every slap, even though entirely not hard compared to what I was used to, took my breath away. I was shocked by how much it hurt. That section was mercifully short, though, and we returned to things I could take properly. The whole scene ended up being really hot, and chock full of the kind of awful that I’ve come to adore.
The second thing we shot was a bondage photoset. Nimue did a wonderful job tying me, and I like the way the photos came out. It was Nim’s idea that I wear my glasses for it and I liked the look: super dorky naked girl all tied up. What’s not to love? Pandora did the photography, and I think she did a lovely job as well.
Following this, we moved into the bedroom to do a wonderfully sexy film entitled “Best Girlfriend Ever.” This film has me and Pandora together, with her as my Domly girlfriend. I’ve decided to experiment with self-bondage and have gotten myself trapped in a very vulnerable position– with my feet up, basically in a diaper position.
Pandora comes in and catches me and chastises me for not being safe, as well as for keeping my desires to experiment with bondage to myself instead of asking her to tie me up. I try to explain that I was doing it to surprise her. She responds by spanking me with her hand and then a leather paddle, and also gives me a number of slaps on my breasts while they’re bound in a rope harness. In my opinion, Pandora made this scene crazily hot. There’s a lot of sexual energy between us in the film (and it’s genuine, she and I are involved off camera) and it’s really wonderful. I’m going to eventually write about the way that my relationship between kink and sexuality has evolved (and the ways in which it hasn’t changed at all) since I haven’t really addressed that recently, but let’s just say I enjoyed doing this. 🙂
Our next project was a photo set in which I got to wear my fabulous bunny romper (a gift from my scene sister Betty Crocker) again. In this scene, Nimue brushed and braided my hair while I threw a tantrum about it, resulting in me experiencing the far less pleasant side of the hairbrush. I’m not going to lie: throwing a tantrum while someone is playing with my hair is counter intuitive. I love having my hair touched in just about any way: tender playing, brushing, rough horribleness, it all works for me. I had to think of all sorts of horribly unfair things in order to inspire my tantrumy faces.
I think that these pictures are incredibly sweet and adorable. How can you not say “Awww?”
The final thing we did was a stripping photoset, which Nimue suggested that we do outside. I agreed to this, although I made her shoot it pretty quickly because fuck being cold. I do like being naked in the outdoors, although I didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have it the weather had been warm. Nimue was pretty effective with it, and I tried my best to do minimal whining. 😛
That was the end of the day’s work. All of the sets have been put up on Nimue’s World, so I recommend checking them out. I’ve watched them all at least a couple of times, as well as having perved on a bunch of the other content on her site, especially her spanking content. It’s good stuff. I like Nimue a lot, and I hope to film with her again in the future. ♥
It’s time to continue with the narrative of my life, even though I’m still writing about stuff which happened in March and it’s May now. I’m not going to lie: for various reasons, April was a kind of intense month for me and I didn’t dedicate the amount of time and energy to the blog that I like to (and is expected of me!) so I am really going to make an effort to get caught up on things. Some of these posts won’t be as detailed as they could have been if I’d been able to write about them right away, but I don’t at all regret the way I’ve chosen to spend my time. I hope the stories are still enjoyable to you guys, despite the time-lag.
I wrote in an earlier post about how the start of my trip to England was very stressful. One of the things which had caused me a lot of concern was the fact that since due to horrible personal circumstances, I wasn’t able to spend any of my time with Serious_Face, which had originally been a large part of my plan. Because of this, I ended up leaving my shoot in Derbyshire to go back to Paul Kennedy’s house for a couple of days before I went to visit my very dear friend, Pandora Blake.
The time that I spent at Paul’s house was really lovely. It was the first time I was in someone’s home since I’d left Rafa’s apartment in LA several weeks ago, and that was refreshing, and our time was unscheduled and very relaxed. More importantly, during the previous two days, I had discovered that I liked Paul an awful lot, and that we were very much on the same page about a lot of things. The more we discussed what aspects of this-thing-we-do were appealing and important to us, the more I noted that these things were very much in line. We spent quite a bit of time snuggling, we enjoyed a lot of sweet, rather affectionate play together and he generally looked after me. I’m often very resistant to being looked after: I firmly believe that I’m an adult and that I can and should look after myself. Letting someone else, especially someone who I had only recently gotten to know, care for me felt very vulnerable in a way that was very gratifying and, somewhat surprisingly to me, very submissive feeling. I still felt fairly shy and reserved, but the time we spent was filled with positive feelings. Safety and warmth and happiness.
At one point, we went to a cafe where we had to wait a very long time to get brunch because they accidentally gave our food to someone else(I didn’t care in the slightest. I just liked sitting there and talking to him). You know how when you go out to eat sometimes they give you a number for your table, so that the person who brings your food out knows where to put it? This cafe did that in a way that made me giggle rather considerably:
After that meal, there was cake. I know that you don’t come to my blog to hear about delicious things that I ate, but screw you guys, this cake is worth talking about (Cakeboy will probably not judge me for this section, right?) . It was a glorious cake, full of cream and strawberries. I’m salivating just thinking about how damn good that cake was. Actually, I’m kind of making myself mad, because now I want to eat it again and I can’t. 🙁 It was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. I’m not making that up. I like that cake.
|I want this cake to be on a rainbow and in my mouth.|
After those very pleasant and reenergizing couple of days, Paul took me up to London to stay at Pandora’s. There was much rejoicing when we saw each other. It had been almost a year since we first met, and that was the only time we’d ever been together face-to-face. Pandora is someone that I got very close to over the internet. Besides the fact that we have a ton of fun being ridiculous together (as the stories that follow will show), I really enjoy being with her because we’re able to have a certain kind of academic discourse without me feeling like I’m being a pretentious bastard. Upon me entering her home, however, we did not engage in discourse. Instead, we jumped up and down a lot and hugged vigorously. It was during this that I discovered that Pandora has a cat named Fatface. “I forgot to mention the cat,” Pandora said, “but based on what I know of you, you aren’t going to mind, right?”
Remember a minute ago when I was obsessed with that cake? That cake means nothing to me next to my feelings towards Fatface. Love at first site. Fatface is a big, beautiful cat. She’s fluffy and mostly white, and most of the time, she gives zero fucks about what those weird humans are doing around her. The characteristics that make me like her more than the average cat (which I already like a lot) are as follows:
|WTF, Alex. I came here to hear about spanking and all you want to talk about are cats and cake.|
Eventually, Paul had to leave to go home, which made me a bit sad and would have made me a lot sadder if I wasn’t so excited to be seeing Pandora, and if I wasn’t going to see him again later in the month. I was going to come back down to his place for further shooting in the second half of my visit.
Pandora and I spent a lot of time catching up, and then we went to the grocery store to get food supplies for my visit. She recently started doing free-running (a fact which I find kind of really sexy) and had hurt her ankle doing it just before I arrived, so she was kind of hobbling around and we decided that walking a long distance wasn’t wise and took the bus. At the store, I was introduced to a lot of foods that I wasn’t familiar with, including cider in flavors like strawberry lime (which is pink!) and chocolate oranges. Pandora and I also discovered that we had very similar taste in food, which made things much easier. Being adventurous, we decided to get a dragon fruit, which I’d never had before, and some strange squash or gourd type vegetable that was advertised as being good for curry and sort of looked like a cross between a cucumber and an alligator. We had high hopes for these foods. The dragon fruit turned out to be a bit different than other fruit in that it isn’t really all that juicy, nor is the flavor particularly strong, but it was very good.
|Pandora and the dragon fruit.|
The vegetable in question, however, turned out to be some sort of horrible monster vegetable that shouldn’t be eaten under any circumstance. It was bitter and awful, and it TASTED like an alligator’s skin looks. I think we nearly cried when we ate it, and we had to pick every bit of it out of our stir fry in order to make the rest of the vegetables edible. Sad. Day.
That was an aside, because I was talking about food. After we had finished at the store, we had a few drinks and then went to bed, but we didn’t go to sleep. We stayed up for half the night talking about all sorts of things. We discovered that we had many things in common, including strange, highly personal things that we don’t often talk about. It was a great bonding experience. We also were kind of ridiculous with our combined collection of stuffed animals. This night ended up being the inspiration for one of the scenes that we filmed together later in the week.
The next day, Pandora took me to some charity shops in her area, as I was lacking some of the items that I wanted to have with me due to traveling snafus. I didn’t end up getting too many things that were practical, but I did get a blouse with cats on it, a pair of white (I mean bone) shoes and a pair of purple suede heels. Charity shops are different than thrift stores run by charities in the US, like Goodwill and Salvation Army, and poppin’ tags is a different activity in England than it is here. The stores they have are far smaller, and the selection of items is different. In America, you can find anything at the thrift store, ranging from really trashy, old crap to high class stuff with the tags still on it. In England, everything has kind of already been preselected for quality, which is slightly sad to me, since I thrive on weird, awkward, ironic or geeky things that a lot of people wouldn’t consider “quality.” I still loved the shopping experience and was pleased with my purchases. I also realized that I had an ace in my hand for hipster oneupmanship now: when someone asks me where I got these things, I can say “Oh, I got it at the thrift store… IN ENGLAND.” Ha. No copying me now, bitches!
That evening, Pandora and I somehow ended up in a competition to see who could finish posting to their blog first, which aided me quite a bit in actually getting this stuff done. Pandora, however, finished her post just slightly before I did. “I beat you to posting!” she said, “Now, I’m going to beat you in real life!”
The setting of additional rules to a competition after it’s already been completed like that is tremendously unfair. When I have a certain kind of energy with someone, though, I find unfairness delightful, sort of like the way that YS consistently lies to me about how many strokes he’s going to give me and that somehow ends up with me being happy.
Pandora offered me a warmup, which I gladly accepted, and then put me over her lap and spanked me with her hand. It had been a long time since I was spanked by Pandora, and I was glad it was happening again. I don’t feel entirely submissive towards her, so to speak, but I do feel passive towards her in play, and I enjoy her receiving her Toppiness, and I was very comfortable with her occupying Boss-space for the moment (more information on WTF “bossing” actually means to me coming in a later post). It felt sort of invigorating and exciting to be getting spanked by her. Once I was thoroughly warm, she directed me up onto her sofa for a whacking with a fairly big, leather paddle. I cuddled up to her stuffed dog, Fred, who is known as “Drop Dog” due to his ability to drop onto your head. “Comfort her well, Drop Dog!” Pandora instructed, “she’s going to need it!” (I liked that quite a bit, too). She gave me a spanking that was neither severe nor serious, but still hurt enough, and put me in a giggly, happy, nicely spanked mood. (You can read Pandora’s side of this story here.)
|Thanks, Pandora and Drop Dog!|
It turns out that Pandora and I ended up playing together off camera quite a bit, and this pleased me a great deal. Sometimes the space was lighthearted, and once it was mildly corrective: I smacked her with The Heavy Bear (from “The Bear Incident”), after she knew quite well that I was seriously forbidden from “assaulting” my friends, even (especially?) with bears. We were already in bed, but her response was very quick. She sat up and pushed me down and started to smack my bottom fairly thoroughly while I whimpered and apologized for my bear-violence. Then she got up from the bed, and I turned out of position. “Oh no, don’t go anywhere!” she warned. “You’re not done!” She retuned with a wooden hairbrush, which she gave me twenty whacks with before forgiving me for my little outburst and snuggling down for the night.
Side note: Hitting people with that bear falls into a certain category of bad behavior, along with picking on Mila Kohl: I know it’s bad, I get corrected for it all the time, but there’s just some insatiable desire in me that prevents me from ever being able to stop doing it. Both activities are just so satisfying. Mila is probably fortunate that she has never been in the same place as me when I had that bear, or else I might have clobbered her to death with it if the power of these two tempting misbehaviors combined. 0_0
Pandora and I also shared a more serious scene later on in the week, in which I was much more vulnerable than I had previously been in any of our kink interactions. I was worrying about something, like I am known to do, and I was feeling detached from my D/s dynamics back at home. I was generally a bit moody and out of sorts because of it, and felt a little less than secure. Company was arriving soon, and I wanted to be perky and cheerful for them, but it was kind of a struggle to get myself back where I belonged. I talked to Pandora a bit, and she asked me rather straightforwardly if I needed a spanking.
Yes. Yes, I did.
There’s something particularly comforting to me about that phrasing as a way to initiate a scene, especially if I’m having some sort of emotional situation. It’s largely about semantics. “Do you need a spanking, Alex?” makes me feel instantly taken care of. I think that the question format of this is particularly pleasing to me because it requires me to openly admit to what I need and desire in that situation, and doing that often clears my head and gives me focus (as well as being a lovely way to guide me onto the path of active submission). There’s also a feeling of some level of concern for me: there has never been a situation where someone that cared about me asked that and I felt that it wouldn’t have been perfectly acceptable for me to say “no” if that wasn’t actually what I wanted (although me not wanting to be spanked when offered is usually a sign that I’m either horrendously overtired, drunk or need to be taken to the hospital). The similar question: “Do you want a spanking?” does much less for me as a positive trigger because it feels very casual (“Hey, wanna get spanked? Cool.”) and because it just seems like a very obvious question. Am I awake/sober/healthy? Then probably, yes, I do. “Need” is a word that can be a bit loaded sometimes. There’s a large part of me that doesn’t want to admit to needing anything, but if someone else brings the word up first, it feels good to me, like it’s been made acceptable for me to have needs. I understand that this is a very complex breakdown of a simple sentence, but these sorts of things are interesting to me. I’m curious if any other bottom-types have similar thoughts on these sorts of phrases, too.
I was slightly reluctant to accept, simply because I didn’t want Pandora to feel like she had to look after me, and because my emotional state involved worrying about being a burden to people, but she reassured me and then took me over her lap while she was seated on the corner of the sofa (so it was more of an “in a chair OTK” than an “on the sofa OTK” in terms of positioning and I tried to relax myself. She spanked me with an atmosphere that felt corrective but not chastising. It was quite spot on for the headspace I needed: I didn’t feel like I was being treated as though I’d done something wrong, but I did feel disciplined, as in I felt like I was existing in the comfortable space of being given the necessary structure and care. It was one of the rare moments where I felt as if I could understand the difference between “discipline” and “punishment”, even if I never grabbed onto it enough to properly articulate it here. Physically, the spanking was appropriately thorough. Pandora used her hand throughout, but still produced some squeals and gasps. I didn’t feel a need to struggle, although it was firm and did hurt. I just felt a safe calmness, and the feeling of my internal centering being restored. When she finished, we hugged and I expressed my gratitude. It had been lovely and kind of her. 🙂
That night, I got spanked one more time, although not by Pandora. She did, however, totally set it up. The company that arrived that evening consisted of Nimue Allen and Thomas Cameron, coming to spend the night so we’d be able to get up early and start shooting the next day. I had made it obvious to Pandora that I was interested in potentially playing with Tom before we shot together (I like doing that, in general, if it’s possible, and I’d seen a lot of pictures of Tom that had sort of piqued my interest). She then suggested that I might need to be spanked again later in the night when my comments got slightly inappropriate later in the evening. This was largely just used as an initiating device: the spanking that I got didn’t really feel disciplinary. It did feel quite good, though, in a painful sort of way. I went over Tom’s lap while Nimue and Pandora watched, and he spanked me quite firmly with his hand, including spanking the entirety of the backs of my thighs. He used his hand effectively, and it hurt a lot. I wasn’t sure exactly how it was going to go, but it ended up being a very fully formed scene: he kept going at increasing intensity until I broke past whimpering and into sniffling and moved into proper crying. That was a fairly rare thing: outside of a video, it’s rare for someone to make me cry the first time I play with them (legends of me crying every time I get spanked are gross overstatements). I think that it worked because there was no expectation set that this would happen. Very often, when someone sets out to make me cry, they are not successful. It jinxes it. This time, it just happened, and it felt right and good.
Afterwards, there were, of course, cuddles.
|Dear Pandora, I stole this off your blog. Love, Alex.|
This seems like a very good place to wrap up this post, as the next day we shot, and that will be a whole other thing to talk about.
(I’m posting Valentine’s Day next. OUT OF ORDER. CALL THE POLICE*.)
Updated, due to some poor wording that upon re-reading kind of made me sound like a bitch.
Well, I’m blog posting again. It’s been a while, I know. I’m very sorry for not having been diligent. I’ve just been very busy recently, and rather overwhelmed. In addition to working on several long term projects, I’m getting ready to leave home for six weeks. I’ve been gone for this long once, but the whole thought is very intimidating. As much as I know that I’ll have a remarkable time, I tend to get very nervous before trips. There’s so much that needs to be planned and organized, and if I’m being honest, I’m still very bad at that. As babyish as it sounds for someone who likes to fancy herself a strong and independent woman, I feel a preemptive sadness about leaving Malignus if I let myself. Before I left for July Crimson Moon, I got so upset about it that I almost didn’t want to leave at all.
This morning, I had a few pieces of news that made me more stressed out. I knew that later that day, I was going to do something that I was nervous about because it involved confrontation. The day started the way that they usually do, despite this. Malignus and I spent time together before he had to leave for work. Then he started to get his power cables together to take his laptop and phone charger with him to work. Then he gave me a fairly strong swat with the bunch of cables. I very nearly cried.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
“Come here, I’m going to even it out.” I walked over to the bed and plopped on it with my bottom up. “Well, take your pants down!”
“You gave me the last one over my pants, though!” I protested.
“Are you arguing with me?” he asked very seriously.
“Yes,” I admitted, feeling very sheepish. I pulled my pants down and tried very hard to get in position. I knew under various layers of stuff that I really, really wanted to be spanked. I was stressed out, and spanking is the greatest stress relief possible in my life. I just couldn’t find submission through all the nonsense that was worrying my brain. It took me a good minute before I finally accepted the fact that I was going to be spanked. Even then, I didn’t do the best job of taking it, wiggling and protesting for the ten strokes which followed. I fell out of position at one point and had to be coaxed back where I belonged. I was crying and struggling, even though there was nothing particularly challenging about the spanking compared to others.
“This last one is going to be hard. Do you understand?” Malignus asked me. I couldn’t catch my breath from crying. “Yes, Sir?” he prompted. I just lay there, not yet ready to answer. Finally, I did, and I was met with a very hard stroke which pushed me to cry even more.
“Come here,” Malignus instructed, beckoning me to sit next him on the edge of the bed. I pulled up my panties but abandoned my pants and I sat down. He wrapped me in a hug that filled me with a sense of safety and comfort that I’ve rarely ever known outside of the spanking world. I clung to him. Then he said “I’m going to hit you some more.” This time, I tried to accept and did a better job of being resigned. He raised his hand and began to smack the fronts of my thighs. This is a very sensitive area, and one which makes me feel particularly submissive. I know that while he hit me quite a few times, none of them were particularly hard compared to what I was used to, but I sobbed. Everything in my existence was about crying and continuing to cling to him. It was in that moment that I realized that I needed this. I needed to get the stress out of my body. I needed to let go. I needed to trust him to do what was best for me and fight against this. All these feelings fueled me to cry more and more, until he stopped and I found myself nearly hyperventilating. I held my breath for a second as he stroked my back and then gently and comfortingly rubbed my thighs, then returned to a fairly normal breathing pace. “Have you returned to that place of calm?” he asked and I affirmed: “Yes, Sir.” “Good girl,” he praised, and I basked in this for a moment. Once I was feeling safe and good, he told me to get up and started to put pillows in position for an OTK spanking. “We’ll finish this up with something nicer for you,” he told me. He didn’t grab an implement, and that made me feel very relaxed and loved.
I kicked my panties all the way off without really knowing why, but probably on some internal level because I wanted to feel very vulnerable, then I got over his lap. The spanking was not too hard, not too fast and made me feel very, very comforted. Still, at one point, when he picked up the intensity a bit, I started to struggle and protest. “This is still a spanking, Alex,” he reminded me, and I tried to be passive. I was never really as successful at it as I would have liked to have been, but that feeling of being loved, of being elevated and safe and relaxed kept coming back and it was wonderful. “Do you want to decide how hard you’re spanked?” he asked me.
“No, Sir,” I responded.
“Do you want to decide how long your spanking lasts?”
From there on out, I managed to remain relaxed, although the time wasn’t substantial. When we finished and Malignus hugged me again, I felt much better. I know that it’s my responsibility to take care of my own stress, but there’s just something wonderful about the feeling when someone chooses to step in. I’m a very luck girl to be loved as much as I am. 🙂
*Note- Please do not actually call the police. Reporting a false emergency is a crime.
Remember last post, when I said that PTL couldn’t come visit because of her responsible adult life?
Originally, all the girls were supposed to come on the same weekend, but due to some complications relating to which weekend is the “weekend before Malignus’ birthday” (the one before his birthday, or the one which includes his birthday) we ended up with ellee and PTL taking different days off from work. In the end, we decided to just split it and have ellee on one weekend and PTL on another. I purchased Heather’s tickets for the same weekend as ellee was visiting because they were less expensive at that time. Once that was all settled, we got to work at something that this whole “surprise” ordeal has made us all very good at: the lying.
We had a perfectly good reason why she couldn’t be here, so we cooked up a few more details and then secretly text messaged each other back and forth, being extremely giddy about how exciting it would be when she finally *did* arrive.
On Thursday night, I was antsy about the coming excitement and felt extra energetic as we were hanging out and watching TV. I had trouble sleeping when my bedtime arrived, and I kept waking up excitedly. It didn’t help that earlier that evening an entire freaking CHRISTMAS TREE had arrived from none other than PTL:
|FUCK YES, CHRISTMAS!|
On Friday, I got up and finished picking up the house from my previous guests and resetting things to “guest standards.” PTL had messaged me to let me know that she had landed, but that her bag was delayed, so I gathered up a bunch of travel sized toiletries for her. Once all that was done, I got into the bath to relax a bit. I was still all wet and naked with a mask on my face when I got the text that read “I’m downstairs!” She found my apartment and I came to the door in a towel. I’m classy like that. She then got to have the pleasure of watching me dress and get ready before we headed off.
I’d set up a dinner with Malignus in town that evening, telling him that I wanted to have a casual and relaxed meal together before his actual birthday. When we got there, we explained to the hostest that we were actually a party of three but would only need two place settings now, as PTL was going to hide in the bathroom until Malignus arrived. The waitstaff was all very understanding. I sat and waited while she hid. Eight minutes later, I texted her to let her know he’d arrived. A minute or so after we got seated, she casually walked out of the bathroom and sat down next to him. “Hey, what’s good here?” she asked.
He had no idea she was coming. It was perfect.
We had an awesome dinner, then went and watched a movie all together. Afterwards, we came home and got pretty directly to the hitting with things. PTL got some pretty beautiful looking Twizzling:
There were also thigh turkeys for both of us:
|PTL (on the left) and me with smacked thighs and matching underpants 😀 The reason my left leg looks less red is because PTL is the one who hit me there, not Malignus. 😛|
We had lots of fun, relaxed and painful times, including a revisiting of all the implements that I mentioned regarding ellee and Heather’s visit. I also got rapped on the knuckles with the Twizzler. Candy coated agony. 🙂
When 12:12 AM arrived, it was officially Malignus’ birthday, as he was born at 1:12 AM, EST. He then proceded to give each of us 30 cane strokes. They weren’t particularly hard, but there are never friendly cane strokes. A little while after, I looked like this:
Unfortunately, that mischievous scamp Beth Eisley heard about the dates mix up, decided that it was all my fault and began to insist that I needed to be “beaten within an inch of my life” because of it. When we got on Skype with her after the birthday caning, she began insisting this fairly heavily. Fortunately for me, Malignus doesn’t do what anyone tells him to. Instead, Beth got “Alex getting hurt denial.”
Eventually, Malignus got very excessively sleepy and we signed off for the night and all went to bed. It was a happy, happy night. 🙂
This morning, PTL and I made a birthday breakfast while listening to Christmas music. I received and opened some lovely Christmas gifts from vanilla sources, and I’m now wearing fuzzy pajama pants with adorable bears on them. Unfortunately, my physical birthday gift for Malignus didn’t arrive in time, but PTL bought him Portal and Portal II as his gift, so they’ve been playing them all day.
Aparently, Malignus euthanized his Companion Cube more quickly than any other test subject on record. No one was surprised. 🙂
Well, this is belated.
That’s what always happens to me with holidays and events. I’m kind of amazed that I managed to make my LOL day post on LOL day.
I do have a fairly good reason for my delayed posting (although it didn’t keep me out of trouble for breaking the blogging rules): Malignus and I traveled to Texas to spend Thanksgiving with likeminded friends there, specifically WearYouOut and LilLawBrat. I stayed with them in August and spent time with them at three other parties, and we’ve grown very close. Debs, Mila Kohl, Zoey Wicks and Morgan_ were other friends that we got to spend lots of time with. It was just wonderful to spend the holiday with chosen family. It was pretty much the best holiday of any sorts that I’ve celebrated.
Our flights to Texas on Wednesday went pretty seamlessly: Malignus slept basically the whole way and I read some Foucault and then played games on my phone once my brain got sufficiently tired out for philosophy. When we arrived, we were quickly greeted by LLB and we drove back to their house where I proceeded to pounce all over everyone who was there and demand cuddles. We went swimming and in the hot tub, which we would end up doing every single night. After we dried off, Mila and I snuck off for some girly catching up which we followed with Mila playing Bright Eyes’ “Lua” on her ukulele while we sang together (Mila is much better at singing than I am). I kind of wish I had a video of this to share with you, but for some unfortunate reason I don’t film 100% of my life. 😛 The night wrapped up with Malignus giving me a super relaxing bedtime spanking before we fell asleep in a really comfortable guest bed and slept until 11 the next morning.
Thanksgiving day itself was extremely fun. WYO and LLB don’t really let me help around their house too much (because they want me to actually take a break for once!) but I helped out wherever I could get away with it. I also followed them around the kitchen asking a bunch of questions, so I hope that I picked up a few extra cooking skill points (I often see myself as a Sim, with the blue skill bar over my head filling as I do certain tasks). LLB also bought me coloring stuff because I didn’t have any with me, so I drew name plates for each of the guests at the table. I don’t have photos of these, either, because I was kind of just living in the moment, but each one was ornate and tried to capture the aesthetic preferred by the person being labeled (to the best of my understanding). Zoey’s was kind of my masterpiece- her name was written in block letters filled with hearts, and then there was a kitten peaking up over the edge of the paper. Following his preferred style, Malignus’ was a plain white piece of paper with “Malignus.” written on it in plain black lettering. 😛
The Thanksgiving meal was pretty much the best meal ever. The turkey was perfect, there were tons of amazing sides and no one fought at the dinner table (something that’s NEVER happened in my family of origin). I was extremely thankful to be there with such lovely friends.
After dinner, we participated in the Thanksgiving tradition which I started last year: thigh turkeys.
|I put the faces on in post this year, since having the marker on my skin last year was really annoying.|
In case anyone doesn’t know, turkeys really hurt, but they look pretty amazing. Zoey also received some turkeys, but Debs opted out for reasons that were somehow related to her boobs hurting. 😛
After I healed a bit, we ate some delicious pie (really, one of the best pies of all time) and then swam again. I went to sleep feeling snuggly, sore and full– pretty much the best possible combination.
On Friday, we avoided Black Friday. In fact, I think this is the first time that I successfully participated in Buy Nothing Day (totally by accident), although Malignus bought me and my friend Pandie a matching present (which I won’t post about until she gets hers).
Friday involved lots of spanking, of course, including some experiments with new-to-me implements.
|Getting spanked by LLB!|
|And of course, what holiday is complete without me being spanked to the point of tears?|
On Saturday, we ate Stanley’s Famous BBQ, which is basically the best place to eat in the world. That evening, Debs came over again and there was lots more spanking, including some extremely unacceptable implement usage. I also got nibbled on by WYO and LLB’s dog, Henry. It was kind of annoying when he nipped under regular circumstances, but when he decided to take a little chomp on my welted thighs, I got a bit cranky. 😛
|Malignus approved of Henry’s “aftercare”|
In general, Malignus and that dog got along perfectly. Apparently they are both missing each other like crazy now that we’ve gone home: WYO reports that Henry has now “given up hope and is acting like an ass.”
So, I know this isn’t the most exciting post I’ve ever made, but that was my weekend in a nutshell. It was amazing to spend time with a whole bunch of people that I care about so much. It’s very nice to be home again, though. 🙂
I’ve been kind of a busy bee this past week, and I haven’t had a lot of chances to get blogging done. SAD FACE! Right now, I’m sitting in my car on a break from work, writing this while eating blackberries and almonds for lunch.
Heather and I got A LOT of positive response to our first few publicly available videos. It’s been really lovely to here that people now consider themselves our fans and that people are looking forward to more videos from us. We’ll certainly be working on that over the next few days: we have A LOT of great ideas for videos of all sorts. I was really excited to have this piece about me include on The Spanking Resource and to be listed on Barely Pink’s Tuesday Tingles.
I also received an awesome “Thank you” package from Cane-iac, thanking me for sharing some of my writing on their site. They sent me a Twisted Delrin Loop and three new items that aren’t available on their site yet. They’re all serious business implements, and two of the new ones are colorful and beautiful. All of them are excellently made. I haven’t done any hard play recently because I’m trying to remain unmarked for my trip to LA (I’m heading there primarily to do modeling and I thus far have seven shoots booked. Gotta keep that skin pristine!) but I’m looking forward to getting murdered with them when I get back. I’ll be doing a full post about these awesome new things next week.
Speaking of packages, I sent one to my bestie, ellee, because I found pretty much the best spoons ever in a kitchen store in Sioux Falls:
|Like this post, this photo comes from my car!|
They only had one puppy one, so I got it for myself because I am greedy, but I got ellee the kitty spoon! It’s kinda too bad they didn’t have a bunny one. 😛 The kitty spoon quickly spiraled into a full out care package because buying cute gifts for cute friends is just fun. I then decorated the box and sent it to her husband’s work address. I’m very proud of my coloring skillz so I am uploading some box photos:
I know this isn’t “Alex in Coloringland” so you probably don’t care that much, but I think that I’m awesome.
Finally, I recently purchased a whole pile of different types of bathbrushes to start a “battle of the bathbrushes” series of posts where I find out which ones are the best/worst. I haven’t started this yet because I haven’t had the right combination of bravery and free time. Malignus did, however, hit me on the inner thigh with one of them. He then used a wooden spoon to make “ears” because he was trying to make a Mickey Mouse shape (since the bathbrush mark was perfectly round). It then looked “too much like a kitty or other cute animal” so he “erased it” by hitting me a bunch more times with the bathbrush:
There have been a lot of people posting all kinds of romantic and interesting stories about their Valentine’s Day celebrations and spankings and such things. Compared to some, mine was extremely simple. We’re going to celebrate things more this weekend: on Tuesday, Malignus and I both worked evening shifts. Unfortunately, the night before, neither of us got much sleep. Our original plan was to celebrate Valentine’s day earlier in the day before we went to work. I was extremely sleepy when Malignus woke me up, but less so after he gave me a very spontaneous but thorough “wake up caning” with a 1/8″ acrylic cane. Spontaneous spankings are very hard for me to be submissive during, because they go from “I’m doing nothing!” to “I’m getting spanked!” at an extremely high speed and therefore don’t leave me much (any) time to get into a submissive headspace. Still, I did a fairly good job of being still for it. I was wearing my pajamas still when I started getting caned, and about halfway through, Malignus pulled the bottoms and my panties down to cane me on my bare bottom. I rarely ever get bared by someone other than myself, so it had a strong psychological effect on me and brought me into a sort of warmly submissive headspace for the rest of the scene. This is a lot of writing about a very short thing: he caned me at a very fast pace and it didn’t last long at all, but it made me feel happy and loved, and was therefore certainly worth sharing.
After a little while of being awake, we decided that we didn’t want to go out that day after all because we were feeling excessively sleepy. First, though, we spent a little while hanging out in the bedroom and watching TV. We were in high spirits and Malignus was in a creatively sadistic mood. While I was only wearing a t-shirt and panties, he told me to hand him a short cane. He told me that he was going to hit me on the arm with it (he occasionally hits me with little force on my upper arm). I made a scrunchy face but braced myself for this. Instead, he hit me on the front of my thigh. That’s one of his favorite “games”: hitting me where I don’t expect it. Then he hit me on that thigh again. Then he hit me on the other thigh. Then I cried. Then he gave me a few rapid fire strokes on the back of one of my thighs as I was rolling around in pain. This particular cane is one that doesn’t get used as often as others, I think largely because it’s a shorter cane. I rarely ever get caned while OTK (although the first few canings I got, including very extended ones, were done that way) so my two shorter canes get less use than longer, more intimidating looking ones. The one that was selected on Valentine’s Day was an 18″ Tearjerker JR Delrin Cane from Cane-iac. It’s actually one of the first canes that I owned. Scotchgrove purchased it for me for my birthday. It’s one of those things that doesn’t look all that scary when you see it lying there:
|Malignus said that it looked like I slept with Wolverine.|
Another interesting thing about it: from time to time, cane strokes will break the skin a tiny bit or leave a little blood blister where the tip hit. For whatever reason, probably something good about the design, this cane just left a larger welt on the tip instead of a cut. That’s much nicer and probably better for people who don’t want to get broken skin. The marks kind of looked like this: •–––. Another nice thing (in this situation) was the fact that it’s a very stingy cane that isn’t particularly weight-bearing. This meant that I didn’t get as crazy of thigh bruising as I did the first time I got my thighs caned (which was with an acrylic cane.) It still hurt. A lot.
Finally, when we were playing around Malignus said something to tease me and I responded with “I’m going to poison your sandwich!” After he finished hitting me with things, he did indeed ask for a sandwich (that’s my usual aftercare: making him a sandwich :P). I had a bunch of kitten stickers left over from making my Valentine’s Day cards for my friends, so I stuck one on the top of the sandwich to be the poison. I felt very clever. Malignus responded by setting the sticker on fire in a candle. SAD FACE!
|You can sort of see the burnt remnants of the sticker.|
After some cuddling, we napped and then went off to work. I spent the rest of the night feeling contented, warm, loved and sore. It was a lovely day indeed. 😀