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.
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| 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:
ijsdhusiuhgdiufhiudfhidufhbifubiufgisgfaiygfayiufgisyfsjambokpishidhudhgiudfhdiufhgdiuiudfgsjamboksdiufsiudhfsiufhiudgidgwaygauwydfgauysjambokiusghusefghiuseg8wygriuwrgw97rtw97efgiesufghsdiustupidstupidstupidstupidstupidsdfshfuisdgfisufgisdfgissjamboksjamboksjamboksuhisuhgirugew7yt7wtywe7ythg.
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:
My sad face didn’t stick around too long. We had a really nice rest of the evening, and I got everything done that I was required and more.
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.
Note from the future: I don’t actually support a lot of what I said in this post anymore. There are A LOT of signs that my relationship was unhealthy that can be seen here.
For the past few months, I’ve been working on a particular skill within the realm of submitting to spankings. I’m very, very good at taking hard spankings with the right atmosphere. The atmosphere, however, has always been highly important for my success with these things. I generally experience these things as if I am being “guided” to a particular headspace and then kept there. I think this is partially because my early spanking experiences were highly directed and I never learned how to create a headspace for myself and partly because when it comes to physical things, I’m far better at passive submission than active submission. Recently, we’ve been working on my ability to give myself over to a hard spanking without direct assistance.
It is way, way more difficult than it sounded to me in the beginning.
No atmosphere means no phrases of comfort or reaffirmation, no “good girl”s, no questions that focus my mind on submission like “to whom does your body belong?” or “do you want this spanking?” It turns out those things go an extremely long way towards creating a submissive headspace for me.
It also means no warmup. This is the biggest difference between the kinds of non-punitive spankings I was used to getting and the kind that I’ve been getting recently. A warmup eases me into a scene both physically and mentally. The mental side of it is what’s the most important for me. It gives me time to accept the fact that I’m being spanked and slowly start giving myself over to the spanking, suspending my sense of self preservation and surrendering my free will for the time being. It’s like slowly inching forward to get wet in a lake before going swimming (this analogy is particularly effective for me because I have a strong fear of water so preparing to submerge myself is far more mental than physical, but I’m sure that it will make at least some sense to others). You take one step, then another step, then another and at first every step makes you gasp from the cold but eventually, you put your head entirely under the water and then you’re ready and can swim for however long you want.
Without a warmup and with few words of guidance or correction, I’m more like a cat who has just been dropped into a full tub for her bath than a swimmer slowly preparing to enjoy the water. The first smack hits my bottom and I pretty much immediately start crying out, rolling back and forth on Malignus’ lap, yelling in the style that Ami would call “like a dying monster” and being entirely incapable of keeping position. This is relative to my normal ability to be extremely still: I’ve seen other girls who simply have to be held down and pinned in place to take a spanking, and recently, I saw one of my friends climb over a couch when her arms were being held down and she was trying to escape swats. The logistics of that maneuver still befuddle me. To my own credit, I will add that I’ve never put my hand back during a spanking, that I’ve never gotten off the Top’s lap, that I’ve only kicked a Top in the face twice and that it’s been over three years since that time that I broke a lamp. Basically, I’m not horrible, but I try to cling to my resistance as much as possible and relaxing and giving myself over to being spanked isn’t the first thing on my mind. In fact, instead of thinking about how much I want to be spanked and how I never want it to end, I find myself latching onto thoughts of how it’s too hard, it hurts too much, I can’t be still for it and I want it to be over. Not very productive.
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| That’s my brain, basically, when I’m not doing things right. |
I’ve been working on this for a long time, and that’s not to say that every spanking I receive is done in this method and intended to work on this. Malignus had told me that I’d been making progress but I personally was getting frustrated with myself: I knew what things I should be doing during a spanking and I just never brought myself to do them.
Last week, we obtained a new implement. Peachy Keane sent it to me as part of a gift box. I’ve talked about Jenny before: the wooden spatula that Malignus loves and most girls hate. Here’s a photo of Jenny, in case anyone wasn’t sure what it looked like:
This is Ben, the new implement that scotchgrove had Peachy send us:
At first, I thought it was another Jenny in a different color. They do look the same!
From that angle, they look exactly the same aside from the color difference and the fact that Jenny is well worn. From other angles, the difference is far more noticeable:
Ben is about 1.5 – 1.75 times as thick as Jenny. This was EXTREMELY noticeable the first time I was spanked with it. Jenny was my “warm up” (this was quick and very firm) and then he started to hit me with Ben. I kicked and bucked around and screamed and could barely be kept under basic control. I’m pretty sure that the spanking ended earlier than intended because I was taking it with so little grace and dignity. But geeze! That thing is HORRIBLE. It’s the epitome of an awful spoon (you can tell because scotchgrove calls his “the perfect spoon.” )
The other day, I got into a mood and I started having a really awful attitude while Malignus and I were trying to get things done in a limited amount of time. I’m really ashamed of the way I acted. I was scolded about my attitude and just a minute later, he asked me something and I responded rudely and immaturely. He then started to scold me very, very harshly. I snapped out of my funk immediately and began to cry guiltily. I was suddenly aware of just how badly I’d been behaving. A minute or so later, he called me into the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed holding Ben. I felt a mix of terror and relief– despite my extreme dislike of that implement, I knew that I deserved to be disciplined for my behavior and I wanted him to spank me very hard. Once I had bared my bottom and gotten over his lap, he gave me another stern scolding and then did just that. It felt as though he really laid into me with it (I say this in non-concrete terms because the way that I experience pain during a disciplinary spanking is different than usual and often much more severe). There was no denying the fact that he spanked me very thoroughly, but because of my mindset at the time, I lay quite still and did nothing but cry submissively into my pillow. The spanking finished with corner time followed by a long, comforting hug and a chance for me to behave better. I spent the rest of the afternoon focusing on being cheerful and getting things done, and I was successful at both.
Later, when we were driving in the car to go out to eat, Malignus noted that I had been very still for my spanking. It hadn’t even registered to me that I had: I had been focusing on other things. This was important for me because it had reminded me just what I was capable of. When I want to, I can endure anything. This had stopped being a reality for me when I had continuously failed at my earlier attempts to fully submit. That night, Malignus gave me a bedtime spanking with a different spoon. My bottom was still sore from my discipline earlier that day, but I know he didn’t spank me as hard or with as fast a pace as he usually does. Still, I was able to channel the same feeling of wanting to be spanked and I successfully gave over to the spanking. I was very proud of myself, indeed, and Malignus told me that he was proud as well.
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| This post has too many words in it! It needs one of these! |
Since then, I’ve only had one other spanking, which was also with Ben. I took that one similarly well. It’s exciting to feel like I’m on a roll and finally mastering something and making real, measurable progress.
Extended Title: Chapter 1: In which I travel to my first spanking party, arrive, meet friends, settle in and get beaten with a sjambok.
Well, it’s been a full week since I last posted. Due to the circumstances, I don’t feel all that guilty about it.
On Thursday, I got sent home from work because I was coughing too much. This didn’t exactly bode well for a girl who was supposed to be heading to a cabin in the woods the next day for a spanking party, so I spent the majority of the day and early evening resting. Eventually, Malignus woke me up because I had procrastinated doing anything involving packing for the trip and we were leaving in less than twelve hours (which I cannot say he was overjoyed about). I hustled through the stuff that needed doing, then we went back to sleep for a few hours before we left. Unfortunately, I was too excited to sleep. This came back to haunt me later.
Eventually, Malignus woke up, a few other things happened and we hit the road. The drive there was not a lot of fun. I was tired and nervous and a bit cranky, and when it was my turn to drive, I had difficulty with the fact that I was driving stick, which is something that I’ve never gotten particularly good at. We eventually arrived in the town where the cabin was located, but had trouble finding the cabin itself. We ended up in an old graveyard at one point, which didn’t help to calm me down at all.
Finally, we arrived. I was incredibly, incredibly nervous. My hands were shaking. I walked in the doorway to see an extraordinary amount of alcohol on the kitchen counter, two scenes in progress and a lot of new faces standing around talking. In reality, none of that stuff is all that scary. At the moment, I was petrified. Pretty much all that I could get to come out of my mouth was “Yes, Sir” and “No, Sir” to Malignus and “Hi” to everyone else. I went into our bedroom to discover that MissbehavinMegan, who organized the party, had gotten me a present:
Question: was the primary purpose of obtaining this gift for me to irritate Malignus?
Answer: probably, yes. But I benefit from his unhappiness!
When I first got to the cabin, Megan was off doing something else, but once I finished unpacking our stuff and she finished doing that, I got a drink into my system and had some “alone time” ( ^_~) with her, and suddenly, I felt perfectly at home and friendly. The next few hours were a fun-filled blur. ellee and her husband YoggSothoth were delayed in their arrival, and I had tried to stay up and wait for them, but in the end, I asked Malignus to wake me up when they arrived. That happened around three AM, and I instantly regained my spunk when I saw them. I’m pretty sure that the moment we met was the moment that ellee and I became best friends forever. She also had a present for me, which filled me with mass amounts of glee:
We had lots of hugging and squeeing, and then we both got bedtime spankings and went to our respective rooms to sleep.
All in all, despite being tiring and scary, it was a great day. I knew that the party was off to a very good start indeed!
The next morning, I woke up and followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen. I guess a few other girls woke up earlier than I did and cooked. The only cooking I did during the entire trip was sandwich making, which I was strangely okay with. Once in a while, I guess a break can be nice. Right after breakfast, Malignus and Megan were taking a run to the nearby town to get a few things from the store that had been used up already or forgotten, and I came along. I said that this was because I needed to make sure that they got the right kind of butter for me, but my motivation could be more plainly described with the words “YoggSothoth mentioned to Malignus that they should pick up some capsaicin because we ‘forgot’ ours and I wanted to do everything in my power to ensure that this pattern of ‘forgetting’ continued.” You’ll be happy to hear that I was successful in my mission.
After I saved everyone’s life by ensuring this, I got myself into what one might call a “situation.”
One of the implements that was available for use at this party was a sjambok. I’m scared of those. Double, triple scared. I’m especially scared because I’ve seen photos and read stories about them. Because I have absolutely no sense of self preservation whatsoever and I love to actively seek out the things that terrify me to further my submission/satisfy my curiosity, I asked Malignus to hit me with it. Remember that there have been no stories of me being spanked yet this day. This was the way that I started my play for the day. For being such a smart girl, I can be pretty stupid sometimes.
The first thing I can tell you about sjamboks: they are big. They are really long and they are super thick. They are flexible. It was kind of like my most feared cane (the nylon one) on an overdose of PCP.
I remember when I thought that this was a really big implement:
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| Spoon! |
Here’s that spoon next to the cricket bat (which you will hear tales of later) and the sjambok.
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| The tape measure is extended to 44 inches. This photo belongs to Malignus. The bat belongs to TNSpanker. The sjambok belongs to Latte (and in hell!) |
After I asked to be beaten with this horrible thing, Malignus marched me down to our bedroom with a horrible, sadistic grin on his face. He got far too much enjoyment just from holding the sjambok. His face was positively lit up with glee. He had me bare my bottom and lay over pillows and then, with very little warning (let alone warming up!) he hit me with it.
How can I describe it? Was it the worst thing I’d ever been hit with? Yes. By a lot? Yes. Was I just psyching myself up into believing that? I don’t know. I’ve certainly had things which looked worse afterwards. The individual weals were thicker than anything I’ve ever had before, though, rather raised, and were hard underneath. He gave me five (I believe) and then told me he was doing the last one two handed. I was crying and having a hard time holding still, so I asked for a moment before he did that. He agreed, but gave me two that way as a result. One of these was on my thighs. The other was higher than the others, and where I least expected it. I nearly experienced Sudden Butt Death, but somehow survived. 😉
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| This looks nowhere near as bad as it felt! |
The results? Sjamboks are bad and no one should buy them. So much hurt!
Chapter 2 out of many will be posted tomorrow. (I know this for a fact: I already wrote it!)
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).
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| Don’t hate! |
On Tuesday, I beat the second to last boss without ever dying, then started the final dungeon. I was clearly getting better .Yesterday, I sat down and finished the ENTIRE REST OF THE GAME. I only died one time when beating the final boss, too. I was super proud of myself for this. In fact, I was almost pissed off that the game had gotten so easy for me right when it was over. Why wasn’t I always this good at it? Lame.
Malignus was clearly proud of me, too. When he got home yesterday, I asked for a spanking to reward me for my hard work. He decided that the most appropriate thing to do would be to beat me with the cable to the Nintendo 64 controller. As hilarious and awesome as that sounded, I was a bit concerned about this idea, for I have heard stories of people being hit with cords and cables that never seem to end with “AND IT WAS AWESOME.”
I know it doesn’t look like much, but holy crap, the cable hurt! I was rolling around on the bed and shouting “I DON’T LIKE THIS! JUST SO YOU KNOW, I DON’T LIKE THIS!”It was not just stingy, it was bitey. Every swat nipped at me. I was totally laughing while crying out though. Too ridiculous.
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| 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.
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| SAD!! |
He then decided that the best thing to do was to put capsaicin cream on it. I had promised on his birthday not to protest against capsaicin anymore, so I got up and brought it to him. I then spent the entire rest of the night being sad about how much it hurt. Christ, it’s really the worst thing. At best, it makes you unable to avoid feeling the fact that you’ve been spanked. At worst, it feels like you’re going to die by being immolated. It kind of went back and forth between those extremes for the rest of the evening.
Story is still not over.
Now, the other day, Malignus discovered an implement which I had brought back with me from New Jersey which had been previously ignored in favor of heavier artillery. It’s a small, lightweight bamboo spoon. It really doesn’t weigh anything, but it has a good sized spanking surface. I call it “Panda Food” because of the bamboo handle.
On Tuesday night, Malignus gave me my nightly spanking with it and I was extremely surprised by just how awful it was. The thing just. stings. There’s no other way of putting it: there’s no weight to it, and therefore it’s the least thuddy thing I’ve ever been spanked with (even less than a plastic hairbrush). I shudder just thinking about it. I think that many spankees prefer thud because it’s very gratifying– you really can tell that you’ve sustained a heavy impact and it makes you kinda feel like a BAMF. Sting is just surface pain, there’s none of that long, sustained throbbing that comes from the body recognizing injury afterwards. It’s superficial. But it hurts like a total bitch. Malignus has been sure to point out to me that because it causes no real damage, I could be spanked with this spoon all day without any detrimental effects. Except, you know, insanity.
After I spent a while trying to enjoy Star Trek TNG despite the fact that I was in various states of agony, Malignus decided that he wanted to hit me on the thigh AGAIN and that this time, he wanted me to bring him the aforementioned spoon. I was hesitant to do so, but did not protest. Again, I bared my thigh, and this time I buried my face in a pillow. The pain of it made my head explode, pretty much. He hit me more than once, and I found myself rolling around and freaking out. I became so not concerned with my surroundings that I hit my head into the wall a bit, but I didn’t even care. Somehow, I found myself curled up in Malignus’ lap sobbing while he comforted me and reminded me that he loved me and that I’m a very good girl. I know it sounds horrible, and it was, but at the same time, I loved it. I loved how happy indulging his sadism made him. I love being pushed that far. I loved that I had (mostly) accepted something that I hate. Lying there while I regained my calm, I found myself in this sort of otherworldly state of comfort– entirely spent, but the vacant space where all the fight in me had been was filled with a warm and enjoyable sense of comfort.
I really hope you aren’t bored yet. Because there’s more.
Eventually, it became bedtime and therefore, time for me to receive my spanking. Malignus asked me if I still wanted one, but that’s kind of a dumb question. I always want a spanking. Unfortunately, he decided to use that stupid spoon again. I cried from pretty much the start of it because, as previously mentioned, the fight in me was all used up. It hurt like hell and it was a very satisfying and relieving cry. When he’d finished and I’d pulled up my underwear (I’d given up on pajama pants at some point) he decided to give me a good smack on either hand. When those were both done, he grabbed my left hand again and tapped the spoon against my palm. I prepared myself for it, but instead, he hit me on the inside of the elbow. UGGGGGGGGGH! Finally, the night finished up by him grabbing my welted and bruised thigh as hard as he could. Just the grabbing made me burst into tears a final time. This pleased him a great deal, and he laughed and hugged me, obviously very satisfied with himself.
So that was my day yesterday! I kind of want a t-shirt that says “I beat Zelda and all I got were these lousy bruises.”
I enjoy checking the search terms that bring readers to my blog. I find it particularly pleasing when people get here by searching for my name. Sometimes, people search for things that are very appropriate indeed: “happy consensual spanking,” “girls who love to be spanked” and “writing about spanking” all make a lot of sense. Others make me a little scrunchy in the face, but may well be true: “people who cry a lot” and “the spanking model who cries the most” were high on that list. Some are just slightly creepy, or at the very least, too extreme for me: “dark blue ass after caning”and “spanking till scars” are in the DO NOT DO category. Some people get really ridiculous ones, but thus far, I haven’t really had that many of those.
Tonight, however, I saw a search term come up that was almost a request: someone searched for “Alex Reynolds Lexan Video.” Now, I can tell you straight up, dear searcher, sadly for you, but probably happily for me, such a video does not exist. It may well exist someday, though, and if it does, it’s going to be one pathetic film. I’ve talked before about having a “love/hate relationship” with certain implements. I wouldn’t say that’s the case with my lexan paddle. I’m pretty sure I just have a “hate/hate relationship” with it.
My original lexan paddle is a Lexan OTK Paddle from Cane-iac.com. It was purchased for me by my friend, IG, who is tremendously sadistic. There are a couple of things that I find noteworthy about this particular piece: first of all, it’s thickness is significant. It’s 1/2 inch lexan, where as almost all other lexan paddles are 1/4th inch. That means that it’s heavy and solid and packs an incredible amount of weight. The second feature is that it has a “blade” of only six inches in length. Having a small surface area means that all the force of a strike is concentrated in a small area of the bottom (or, in more terrible cases, the thighs) and makes it hurt a lot in one spot instead of spreading it out. It’s a recipe for serious agony.
That’s the physical side of things: there’s also a psychological component for me (as there always is). IG’s partner and submissive, my friend Peachy, had told me all kinds of stories about what a horrible implement it was before I received my own for my birthday. I brought it with me on a visit to Malignus’ and he discovered it the second morning that I was there. He brought it out and asked me if I’d ever felt Lexan before. I told him I had not, and he told me how truly terrible it was and said that it was too sadistic even for him: an idea which was kind of terrifying to me, considering our previous experiences together. He then said that he was going to give me four swats with it, so that I could understand what I was dealing with, but that he would probably never use it again. Because tops can’t count, I then got six swats with it on top of the mess of bruises that I’d already had from the night before. It was horrible: the pain was deep penetrating and sort of “buzzed.” It was a mixture of way too much sting and way too much thud. I was extremely grateful for the idea that it wasn’t going to be used again. Except for the fact that it totally was, a bunch of times, and it continues to be fairly regularly. It really, really hurts, but I know that my experience of it is greatly enhanced by the amount that it has been built up in my mind as something ridiculously horrible. Truth be told, the other night Malignus made me cry just by leading me into the bedroom with it in his hand.
Fast forward to this month: I had recently gotten back from my visit to my family’s house when another package from IG arrived. He had certainly one-upped himself: besides containing a few other choice nightmare-makers, he had sent me a new lexan paddle:
It is also 1/2 inch thick, but it’s quite a bit larger and it has holes in it. It’s heavy and thick and doesn’t create an air cushion. It does create screaming, though: it’s now tied for the thing which hurts the most in the entire world. I think that highest amount of strikes I’ve received from it at a time is four and that’s way more than enough for me.
Here it is pictured with my original paddle (which I still despise.)
Since I can’t provide you with a video to satisfy your curiosity, dear searcher, I hope this story will suffice. Here is a photo of my butt after a very hard spanking with the smaller lexan paddle (without a warmup and starting with the thighs, because I live with a horrible sadist.) There are also older cane bruises that still show a bit- I think they are from playing Zelda.
More search terms that amuse me will result in more “Your Wish is My Command” posts. Stay tuned!
On Saturday, I went shopping with my Bee Eff Eff, Maddycake. I went to a bikini-bar with some friends on Friday night, so I had some leftover singles in my wallet because I was not particularly zealous with the tipping. I’ve been budgeting pretty carefully with the move coming up, but it was essentially leftover morale money, so, when we saw this at Sur La Table I had to get it:
I asked Maddycake what she thought this was supposed to be for and her response was “beating Alex.” Clearly. I have to admit, now that I’ve gotten it home and messed around with it a bit, this thing kind of terrifies the hell out of me. I’ve had big spoons before, but they’ve always had a very large spanking surface. This one is much smaller, and therefore much more concentrated. Then there’s the fact that the material kind of feels like Warren. -_-
At Sur La Table, they had a small Christmas tree full of kitchen related ornaments for the holidays, so I picked up the first decoration for Malignus and me as a family:
It’s a tiny wooden spoon! It’s so perfect for us. Its red handle echos that bitch, Jenny (Warren’s little sister, who used to be the bane of my existence before Warren came around and was about 8 times worse.) Awwww.
Finally, I went into The Body Shop to get some Body Butter (for the purpose of lathering up my butt to prevent dry skin when I’m getting spanked a lot) and discovered that the entire store was buy two, get two free. So, when faced with two free items I didn’t really need (because I did want to get two Body Butters to begin with. I use the Vitamin E one when I need to grow new skin and the Extra Dry Skin one otherwise) I got myself bath soap and…
See how unsure my face is? That is me being very fearful and not entirely positive what I got myself into. This is a mean thing, for sure. I also somehow managed to acquire seven new implements in the span of a couple of days, while only spending eight dollars on them. I need to stop having such good luck with this stuff. It’s going to eventually lead to my untimely demise. I’m putting a ban on buying anything new at all before I leave, unless it’s a packing supply or going to be consumed, since I have to store so much stuff to begin with. Today was the last shopping trip until I’m in LA as a visitor! :/
My Saturday finished up with a surprise visit from J. I’ll hopefully get to see him one more time before I leave, but we treated today like it would be the last time, just in case. It was bittersweet. He gave me a nice, snuggly hand-spanking that left me feeling like I was glowing.
It was pretty faded by the time I stopped cuddling to take a photo. He didn’t have long to stay today, so no baked goods. 🙁
Whew! That’s a lot of stuff! Hope everyone else had a good weekend!
The other day, I was looking through my list of fetishes on fetlife. I enjoy the fetish list: I try not to abuse it too much, but I’m fond of creating or adding fetishes that are witty, funny or poignant. Really, the whole thing is kind of unnecessary: my fetish list can be condensed into “spanking.” Everything else serves to flesh out what kind of spanking scenes I’m into: the severity, frequency and style of spanking that I enjoy is highlighted. I took a look at my “Curious about” list, though, and discovered that it was 99%* inside jokes. In fact, only five items are real things that I’m interested in trying. This got me thinking: have I done it all? Aren’t there things I still desire to experience for the first time in Spankingland?
I have a very specific kink. I like to be spanked. I like to be spanked with various things, and I’d like to expand my collection, but there are only a couple of implement categories that I haven’t explored at all yet. As far as positioning goes, I really don’t like to have too much variety: if it was practical (and up to me) I’d be spanked over a lap a hundred percent of the time. I’m not into unusual positions or restraints or bondage furniture.
I’ve learned that I am far more fond of spankings that seem real, and which fit seamlessly into my daily life than fantasy based spankings. Despite the amount of value that I placed on my early childhood fantasies, I’d rather enjoy the themes which were important in them during a spanking that just involves me being me and my top being himself than actually act them out. I’m pretty much only into roleplaying for the sake of doing videos or if it is really funny. J. and I have had some scenes that were downright ridiculous in that regard, and I kind of dig that. I don’t have any role-plays that I’m dying to play out to add to my “curious about” list.
There are plenty of locations to be spanked in, but honestly, I don’t really approve of spanking in public places, or areas where one could be caught. I don’t get a thrill out of the risk of exposure: I just get fear and anxiety, in a bad way. I’m unable to relax and enjoy what I’m doing. As a nude model, I’ve done a lot of outdoor or semipublic work in places where it is not entirely legal, and it terrifies me. Getting caught naked is scary. Getting caught being spanked is maybe the scariest thing ever**. Because of this, the locations where I legitimately would like to be spanked are fairly limited.
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| That’s a public road behind me. I would not like to be spanked here. |
The final thing that I can think of which varies between spankings is the atmosphere. This is probably the most significant of the possible variables: it’s the main thing that makes one spanking I receive different than another. That said, I’ve explored, at least a bit, all the major atmospheres which interest me. There isn’t any one type of spanking that I’ve never experienced which stands out to me as “I want that!” There are plenty of them that I want to delve deeper into, but you can only be curious about something until you’ve tried it once. 🙂
There’s a sort of meme in the spanking community of having a Spanking Bucket List, an idea popularized by a thread on fetlife which was particularly full of win. When I made my post to it some five months ago, my list was very general. From my exploration of this topic, I’ve created an updated one.
Getting spanked with a bath brushBath brushes are scary. I always understood in theory that they were scary: they’re basically a hairbrush on a stick, and the “on a stick” part allows the spanker to get more leverage. Plus, Janey really likes them, and anything that she likes makes me terribly afraid. When I was shooting with Lily Starr, she gave me a few test swats with the bath brush and I was surprised by just how much it hurt. Sure, we’d just done three scenes, so I was sore, but the three not particularly hard spanks that she gave me had me yelling about how unacceptable it was.
I like scary things. I get a huge thrill from working myself up over how bad something is going to be. It’s often even worse than I psyched myself up for, too, because usually these new experiences come from a particular individual who spanks me with 0% mercy. I also have a questionable sense of self-preservation. These things combined make me want to be spanked with a bath brush.
Being co-toppedI love the energy between the person spanking me and myself during a scene. The idea of having a third party involved to add to that dynamic seems awesome to me. I’ve co-bottomed before, and that was a lot of fun, so I want to try it this way, too! I’d especially like to be co-topped by two people that particularly enjoy each other or engage well together: I think the banter would be awesome.
Getting spanked on a wet bottomPeople talk about this all the time: it supposedly hurts more. I’m slightly skeptical of this, which is probably kind of silly. Whenever I’ve been skeptical of how much something hurts, it’s always really horrible. At one point, I didn’t think wooden spoons could hurt. At another, I didn’t think that the lag between a cane stroke and the full effect was “real” (before I had been caned). I even doubted the medical accuracy of the idea of a “weak spot” after skin broke during a spanking until I had to deal with one for a while. You’d think I’d eventually learn that if everyone talks about something, it’s probably accurate. Still, there’s nothing wrong with learning things the painful way, right?
Attending spanking partiesThis is a big one! I’ve never even been to a tiny party. I want to go! I want to be surrounded by people who share my kink. I want to meet awesome people I’ve interacted with online. I want to get implements from a vendor fair. I want to be spanked by Tops I’ve spanking-crushed on over the internet but never had a chance to meet.
Sitting down in the snow after a hard spankingI’ve seen photos of people doing this, and I think it’s adorable. Because I’ve been living in Southern California for the past two years and haven’t had to deal with any of the bullshit side of winter, I associate snow with coziness. Plus, if ice on a sore bottom feels good, snow would have to, right? I’ve never been spanked in a place where I could then go outside and have my bottom exposed, though, so the closest I’ve come to this is falling on my sore and swollen butt while ice skating, which, I can tell you, is not as fun as it looks and it does not look particularly fun.
Getting spanked on the beachOn the opposite end of the spectrum, if it were sufficiently private, I’d like to be spanked on the beach. When spankings are slow and rhythmic, I associate the feeling with the waves hitting me when I’m swimming in the ocean. It would be lovely to have a spanking follow that actual rhythm. I spent nearly all my life living in a costal area, too, so I have a lot of strong, positive memories associated with the shore. Plus, I bet that getting wet in the salt water afterwards would be ridiculously stingy!
Getting spanked in my carThis is a pretty lame thing to have on my bucket list, because I think that the main reason why people get spanked in cars is because they don’t have anywhere else to go do it. Still, I’ve just recently obtained my first personal car, and nothing would make it more “mine” than being spanked in the backseat. I mark my territory with my tears.
Getting an extremely long spankingSometimes, during a pleasant spanking, I get the feeling that I never want it to end, and I feel the same sense of disappointment that one gets when a particularly fun ride at the fair starts to come to a halt when I feel the pace slowing down for the inevitable end. I’d love to have a spanking that just kept going. Here’s my pitch for a spanking video: a feature length film that’s just me getting one long, peaceful, OTK, hand-spanking. What? That would get boring to watch? Harumph!
Purchasing leather implementsAs you may have seen in my recent post about my implement collection, I don’t own anything leather. I used to have hang ups about the material from earlier, non consensual experiences. Recently, I started playing with it and I discovered that not only do I no longer find emotional discomfort from the use of leather implements, but I am actively fond of the physical sensation. I’d like to eventually obtain some leather implements of my own.
Cutting a switch.Originally, I didn’t think that switches were scary. I thought they were kind of like less terrifying canes or something. Then a few of my friends started comparing them to razor wire and saying that they’re the all-time worst implement they’ve ever been spanked with and I chickened out. Maybe it’s because no one has reminded me of how terrible they are in a while, maybe it’s because I’m not currently sitting on a collection of welts and bruises, maybe it’s because there isn’t anyone around to thrash me at the moment, but I’ve regained enough confidence to feel, once again, curious about getting spanked with a switch. Like I said before, I like having things hyped up and scary once in a while. This is certainly one of those things.*Approximate figure. I did not do the math.**I know, I use this term a lot. Someday, I’ll collate all the data and come up with the True Scariest Thing Ever (TSTE).
Saturday as my friend Mori’s birthday. She hosted a party at her home, which was really lovely. Homemade cupcakes and pizza with good friends is always a good combination, and Mori is a remarkable domestic! After eating and socializing, a number of us packed up and went over to Threshold, a local public BDSM play-space and education center. Threshold is my favorite of the play-spaces in Los Angeles because the general attitude is very friendly and comfortable. We met a lot of people for the first time that night, and everyone made me feel very welcome. They also have a “no sex ever!” policy, which makes things more comfortable for me.
I spent the start of the evening just hanging out and chatting: that’s the activity that I’m most likely to engage in at a “dungeon” anyway. There’s a room there which is decorated like a bedroom in a fancy, renaissance (maybe) era mansion, and I enjoy that one the most: it doesn’t have the harsh feeling generally found in BDSM theme-rooms and is just a touch “homey” and therefore comfortable to me. A group of my friends ended up hanging out in that room together and it was really enjoyable. After a while, I asked my friend PrincessToy if she would want to try topping me. She knew all the basics and had expressed interest in trying it before. She agreed, and I bent over the padded, synthetic leather bench with my skirt lifted.
The first part of the scene was way up there in terms of ridiculous spankings I’ve participated in. It was still fairly far behind the scene in which a friend spanked me with a bunch of celery sticks, or the time when my Pikachu slipper flew off and broke Serious_Face’s lamp, but it had classic and hilarious banter. I haven’t had a lot of chances to be spanked in a light-hearted group setting, and I find that very fun. There’s an aspect of performance to it: my reactions to the pain take on a silly tone, and I find myself squeaking, squealing and laughing instead of sniffling and sobbing.
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| Yes. These slippers. |
PrincessToy spanked me with my new textured spoon and it really does have a unique feeling to it. I would recommend that you check out your local Asian food market, if there is one in your area, because that’s a pretty cool implement. She also spanked me with the Pokepaddle, my original hairbrush from back in the day, an assortment of her leather toys, one of her hairbrushes which has an awesome thud to it (I want to track onedown for myself) and “The Evil Stick from Hell,” which is a heavy, hardwood paddle that is about three inches across and eighteen inches long. If that thing hurt as much as it did when a brand-new spanker, who was trying not to be too rough due to the atmosphere and our relationship, spanked me with it, then I’m horrified as to what it would be like in the hands of an experienced sadist. It might violate The Murder Rule. It is, most certainly, Unacceptable.
After a ton of witty banter, Mori decided that Princesstoy was going to give me her birthday spanks. The girl clearly needs remedial counting lessons! I got at least two times the 28 swats I was due! At one point, a creepy creeper came into the room and acted as if he was going to get in on the action, but he was promptly told off and left. During the telling off, though, we took a break and I checked out my butt in the mirror. I’ve ceased to be as much of a magic marker as I used to be: it only took me six years! There was a time when a spanking of that intensity would have left me bruised, but that night, it was only a reddish pink. After all the creepy was taken care of, I got back in position and we went back to spanking. The conversation was very different than what I usually get during a scene: “Name a Sanrio character after every swat!”, “How many kittens do you want, Alex? I’m going to give you one spank per kitten!” and a rendition of the Pokemon theme song all contributed to my hysterical laughter.
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| I believe in being honest all the time, so I answered “90”. |
At one point, Princesstoy changed positions and put her hand on my back, holding me down as she spanked me and my entire demeanor changed rather instantly. It was pretty incredible to me how such a small gesture had such a large impact on my headspace, but I instantly felt very cozy and relaxed. With that element of calm suddenly in place, I became aware of a desire that had been building behind the scenes for quite a while: I wanted a spanking that left me in a calm and comforted headspace. I had never had one such spanking until I met with Malignus: all my previous spankings had been very adrenaline oriented. Sometimes, especially during bedtime spankings, he spanks me with an even rhythm and a slower than usual pace. I wouldn’t say that it’s a gentle spanking (for I don’t believe the man is familiar with the concept of “gentle” :P) and it certainly still hurts, but it brings me to a headspace where the fact that it hurts is totally irrelevant and I simply feel warm, cozy and safe. The whole “subspace” and “headspace” thing is, for me, still not largely understood, but I’m sure it has something to do with that. Anyway, I’ve recently had a lot of hard, cathartic spankings, but none that gave me that mysterious feeling that I choose to refer to as “being in my Pokeball.”
Because I’m awesome at communicating what I desire and Princesstoy is pretty much the greatest service top I’ve ever met, I was able to instruct her in exactly how I wanted to be spanked. The emotional side of things was obviously very different, but the physical side was exactly what I’d been craving and it relaxed and calmed me enough that I simply didn’t care about a lot of concerns that I tend to carry around with me. I ended with a floaty, peaceful feeling.
The rest of the night was a lot of fun. I was very calm and laid back feeling because of the positive after-effects of the scene. Several of my friends got tied in Shibari ties, since I hang out with a very rope oriented group of people, and while rope-work doesn’t do anything for me on a kink level, I find it very cool to watch and Milk Mage, who did the tying, is very creative at it. I also got to watch MaskofNormality get beaten really freaking hard with the Evil Stick from Hell. It pained me to watch when I imagined myself getting it, but because he’s a masochist, I enjoyed his enjoyment of things.
All in all, it was a lovely night. I’m happy that I was able to go out and have fun with my Los Angeles crowd, even though I got home late and was too tired and busy to head down to Crowe’s Nice Little Spanking Party in Orange County the next day. I hear it was a success and that pleases me.
I also want to point out that despite the fact that it was PrincessToy’s first time really spanking someone, I ended up with a lightly marked and tender bottom the next day! Win!
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| Awkwardly taken photo of my butt from the morning after? Who DOESN’T want that! Pardon the fact that there are boxes and suitcases all over the floor in the background: I’m packing. |
Oh, Hai!
Alex
Los Angeles, California, United States
First and foremost, I’m a girl who loves being spanked. It’s at the very center of my being. I’m also a professional spanking model, which means I get to do what I love for my job. I’m twenty six years old, and currently located in Los Angeles when I’m not traveling around on my adventures. My vanilla interests include poetry, film history, academia, Pokemon, indie music, baby animals, baking and cooking, collecting vintage clothes and lots of cuddling.
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