Pre-party: Prux, Panda, Presents, Punishment

I first met my friend Prux over fetlife nearly a year ago. We got to see each other in person for the first time at BBW. I was practically shocked by what a sweet girl she is: caring, gentle, kind, polite and loving. We got to spend much more time together at July's Crimson Moon party, and it was then that I knew that we were going to be really good friends. My favorite memory from our interactions during the summer was when we both stayed the night at Joe and Ten's house following the July party. The Brat Brigade was in full force and ridiculous hijinx were happening all around us. At one point, Bad Alex had gotten me into trouble and I was waiting nervously for the consequences of my actions. Prux came and stood next to me sweetly, holding my hand.

"Do you want to go hide?" she asked. The other girls had been running around the house all evening, hiding in closets and attempting to escape spankings. At this point, I'd never hidden to avoid punishment before in my life (and I'm quite sure Prux hadn't either), so it seemed like a possibly fun experiment. First, we hid in the closet but it was dark and a bit scary in there, so when no one was looking, we crept up the stairs and out into the front yard. We considered hiding under someone's car like cats, but decided that was not a wise idea and simply crouched behind it. We stayed there giggling and holding hands for quite a while before we realized that no one was looking for us, so we gave up and wandered back to the basement where everyone was hanging out and confessed what we had done. I took my spanking and then Prux and I cuddled. It would have been fairly anti-climactic if she hadn't been so damn adorable. That night, we both slept on the same L-shaped sofa, having arranged ourselves so that we wouldn't poke one and other with our feet.

I got to see Prux a little more at Shadowlane, but that was a particularly busy party for me so I didn't get to spend as much time with friends as I would have liked. We chatted lots after it, though, and I was really excited to see her during this party. We planned to spend the Wednesday before the party fully started together, and Prux obviously gave careful thought to what we should do together for the most adorable, girly fun possible. Unfortunately, Paul and I didn't end up getting into Chicago until about 4:30 or something, so we weren't able to do as much adventuring as we would have liked. I was still one of the most excited girls in the whole world when I saw Prux pull up to meet us at the airport! I couldn't stop hopping up and down. It was exciting to introduce her and Paul: I love it when the people that I adore finally get to meet each other.

We had to do a couple of errands before going to the hotel, and Prux and I chatted happily while we did them. I had forgotten several important things when packing (as is always the way with me). One of these was a coat-- it had been in the 70's when I left Los Angeles on Wednesday morning, so I left my coat sitting on the chair in my study. I was sorely missing that in Chicago as the wind whipped around. Prux kept giving me cuddles whenever we were outside to keep me warm. :D Another thing I had forgotten was a stuffed animal. When we stopped at the grocery store for other supplies, we noticed a shelf full of stuffed toys. I asked Paul if I could get one.

"Of course," he responded. "You'll need something to clutch desperately while I'm beating you." My tummy felt funny when he said this, but Prux helped me pick out an adorable pink panda to be my newest companion. I named her Penelope.

Meet Penelope!

After errands were done, we went to dinner, where Prux and I had nearly excessive cuddles and I managed to get ketchup in my hair. Then we went to the hotel and got checked in. Here, Prux gave me a present: one of the sweetest ones I've ever gotten!

It was a "bag of sunshine": she had assembled a yellow bag full of fun, adorable yellow presents to represent what she said was the "sunshine that I bring into her life." I couldn't stop grinning as I unpacked it. Everything was carefully selected, and the whole thing was made more excellent by the fact that yellow is my favorite color!

A puzzle, candy, yellow flowers, cider mix, face masks, nail polish, gummy bears, glitter crayons, a candle, silly string, cute animal containers filled with candy, a giraffe which is also a fan and a card with a sweet note. There were also two rubber ducks, who aren't shown because they were in the bathtub.

The bag included a puzzle with cute ducks, and Prux and assembled it together (this was the second time that Prux had done it, because she checked to make sure all the pieces were there before giving it to me, which I think is over-the-top sweet!)

Artistic rendering of Prux and I!

After that, I had to take a bath because I was super gross from traveling and had ketchup in my hair. We chatted while I was bathing, and SheldonFT texted to see if he could come say hi to Prux. Soon a small group of spankos had assembled in the living room area of our room while I sat naked in the bath. Paul had gone down to the lobby and got to meet the handful of friends who were in the room when he came back, then he came to talk to me where I was sitting in the bathtub. He instructed me to turn over in the bath so my bottom was up and he gave me my first few swats of the party, scolding me for making such a mess in the restaurant. It started out playful and tender, but then I decided to suddenly drop down so that my bottom was submerged. He wasn't expecting it, and the next spank made an enormous splash, getting water all over him. The rest of the spanking was much more brisk after that!

Once I had finished in the bath, I came out and got into pajamas and saw Sheldon, Naughty Freckles and LilAngelWings. The group of us chatted until it got a bit late, and then everyone returned to their rooms. I had to say goodnight to Prux, since she wasn't staying in the hotel that night. I gave her the biggest hug ever and a million thank-you's for her sweetness. I'm so grateful to have such a wonderful, loving friend. After our hugs time was finished, she shyly and adorably asked Paul if she could hug him, too, which was of course very acceptable indeed!

Once she was gone, though, the evening got slightly more serious. I had done something (personal) I shouldn't have earlier in the day, and I knew that I was going to be punished for it before going to bed. Paul instructed me to sit on the bed and wait for him while he went downstairs to smoke. I sat on the bed cuddling Penelope and being very still and quiet, my heart racing. I wasn't sure what exactly was going to happen, but I knew that I needed to be punished for what I had done, and I felt a sense of serenity in the knowledge that my correction was inevitable. After what felt like approximately eight years of waiting, Paul came back and sat down next to me on the bed. He scolded me for my behavior earlier in the day and reminded me why I needed to be punished for it. His voice was gentle the entire time, and his touch sweet. "I thought about it and I've decided that I'm not going to cane you for this," he told me. "It's the start of a party weekend and I'm partly responsible for what happened this morning. That wouldn't be fair." I let out a little sigh, as I had been fairly confident that was what was coming. "Instead I'm going to strap you." Oh. Well, fuck. "I know you think that's worse," he acknowledged.

When other people say "strapping" they could be referring to a spanking given with any of a number of  leather implements, some wide, some narrow, some light and delicious and others bitey and cruel. In my household it only means one thing, though: the tawse. I'm sitting alone in my bedroom writing this, and I still blushed and shuddered to type that word. Mila and I have taken to calling it "the other thing" (with "the first thing" meaning the cane). No other implement has ever focused my mind so much. I'm not entirely sure where my extreme, obsessive love/(but mostly)hate relationship with this implement came from. Part of it comes from the fact that it appeared in stories and historical things that I read and in films which I saw during my pre-spanking fantasy period. Part of it comes from the fact that early on in our dynamic, Paul sent me a very detailed email about how intended to use this particular implement on me and how it was going to feel. I received this message at a time when I wasn't really playing, and certainly not in the way I wanted to be, and it became a seed that grew into a fantastic tree of delightful and terrifying fantasies. Then there's a film from Nimue's World entitled "I've Seen You" that I've been a bit obsessed with in which Paul plays a wonderfully creepy character who beats Nimue rather mercilessly with said implement. This film is dark, but in reality, totally consensual and I find it very, very hot. Then, of course, there's the reality of the thing. "The other thing" hurts, to me, in a way nothing else does. Hot, pinching, biting, swelling, firey hurt. I think it has a 100% "made Alex cry" rating still. Owwwwww.

To return from my tangent, I sat on the bed wringing my hands at this announcement. I seriously considered begging for a caning instead, but I maintained my composure, as I knew I had messed up and I knew I needed to be punished. If I had asked for something else and received it, even if it had been severe I would have felt like I got away with something. It wouldn't have put me in the headspace that I needed to be in. So I just looked down at the ground and was quiet and obedient. Besides, he had approached this as an alternative to a caning and mentioned that I "think" it's worse, which could have seemed patronizing but wasn't. To me, it suggested that it wasn't intended to be (this time).

First there was a warmup, which happened OTK and was very short and made me pretty sore itself. I had tears forming behind my eyes before the proper punishment even started. The proper punishment arrived soon, though, and I was ordered over the end of the bed and it was announced that I'd be getting eight: the rounded-up version of half my usual punishment. The first stroke landed and I wailed and started to cry, although I recognized that he wasn't doing it quite as hard as he usually did. On the second stroke I dared to look over my shoulder and saw that, indeed, he wasn't swinging with the ferocity that he usually had. This didn't stop it from hurting terribly, but it was more manageable. I couldn't help but cry at each stroke, though, especially when I focused on the careless thing which I had done earlier in the day. I let the pain focus me on my desire to be a good girl, and I cried out my frustration with myself and my guilt at my earlier behavior. My cries got louder as the number got higher, but soon, it was finished. It wasn't a severe punishment: a lot of it had been in my head, but I felt much better for it.

It took me several minutes of lying on the bed gasping and clutching Penelope before I managed out my thanks for the punishment, but once I did I was reminded that I'm a good girl and wrapped up in a delightful snuggle. Then it was time for photos and to get ready to actually go to sleep!

See? Not TOO bad!

Unfortunately for me, I had a hell of a time sleeping throughout the entire party, so at six AM, after having no sleep the night before, I accidentally woke Paul up because I was literally in tears from insomnia. Awww, that's pathetic. He gave me a sleep aid and cuddled me and stroked my hair and eventually I did fall asleep. I had a big day ahead of me... ♥

Photos, Sophie and Danny, Bondage!

I had a few other delightful adventures when I was in Denver, before it was Cabin Time. One involved taking photos with Amoni. Amoni is one of my best friends, and a wonderful photographer. We've done a lot of different sorts of shoots before, but this time we decided to explore the Lolita type space that I sometimes enjoy occupying. Our friend, Cupcake, did my hair for me and Amoni picked out my outfit. The shoot was extra fun.

We also had a night that involved a bit of partying. I don't really get drunk very much. Despite the fact that I'm still extremely young, I somehow feel like I'm too old for that. I suppose I overdid it when I was in high school and college. I also have a ridiculously low tolerance for alcohol, so I don't even try to keep pace with my friends. I did, however, drink this tiny bottle, which was actually good (we mostly bought it because LOL IT IS CALLED KINKY!) and a thing of blackberry cider, which was pretty weird. You can see my silly looking drinky face. :P We also hung out with friends DarkSteven and DarkStevensGirl, who did not appear in this photo, and a really clingy basset hound called Bonnie who wanted to sit on everyone despite being way too big for that.

Cupcake, myself and Amoni. Amoni's bangs are the cutest ever.

I have no sense of chronology anymore, but at one point I went to hang out with my super good friend and retired model, Sophie Grey. We met up with Danny Chrighton, whose name I've been spelling wrong on this blog since the start of time. Excuse to spank me in the future? After we all got together, we walked to a sushi restaurant near Sophie's place and had an excellent meal. We walked around and got ice cream, which always raises the quality of my day. We decided to go to Goodwill, mostly because I wanted to and Sophie and Danny said it was a great one. So in we went. I kept finding everything vaguely school skirt-ish pretty instantly, but nothing was the right fit for either Sophie or I. Then we went through the "Wares" department, where we discovered something that felt super out of place: a paddle.
It was just a fraternity paddle, sitting there among the random plastic bowls and old clocks. I don't have a clear photo of it, but it was big and hardwood and heavy. It had a set of Greek letters on it, and then the list of all the brothers from that house written on it. Sophie and I decided to buy this, but felt super awkward and weird walking around carrying it. Here's possibly the worst photo of me that I've uploaded to this blog in the past few years (I recently looked at a bunch of my old posts and I used to be a lot sillier looking than I am now. Wow.)

This is me posing with my ice cream cone and trying to be nonchalant about the fact that I'm holding a big fucking paddle!

This whole thing was made even more awkward by the fact that it was us two girls with Danny buying it, and that Sophie and I couldn't stop giggling, and that I didn't have enough cash to cover it and had to borrow a dollar from Danny. Poor boy at the Goodwill checkout. -_-

We carried this around in a bag while we stopped for supplies, then we went back to Sophie's place. We decided that we wanted to remove the part that has all the boy's names on it (since it's kind of a piece of paper that's attached with varnish and is aging weirdly, and because this paddle's new job is spanking girls). I don't know if these sorts of paddles are some sort of collector's item or anything, but I haven't done this, so if it's a horrible idea, someone should let me know. Anyway, we decided to leave it alone and not get spanked with it that night.

We watched TV and had some cider (yes, I basically only drink cider when I drink alcohol) and then started watching videos that the three of us had done in the past which we thought were funny. Danny had the best one: a video that he did for Spanked Call Girls where he did a "pimp accent" while spanking Leia Ann Woods. Infinitely entertaining.

Eventually, it got late and became time for some actual spankings, instead of just videos. :D Danny had brought over a couple of implements, and Sophie and I lay on the bed next to each other while he took turns spanking one of us and then the other. It started out as soft and gentle, but grew in intensity, as spankings are wont to do. I like getting spanked with Sophie. She really obviously enjoys being spanked. She's super relaxed and makes lots of happy noises, and that sort of pushes me into a similar space. Eventually, though, Danny got out a cane and started giving us taps with this. In the same natural and undeniable progression, this began to grow into full fledged strokes, making both of us yelp and wiggle. "Danny!" Sophie protested, "this is supposed to be a good girl spanking!"

"It is!" Danny said. "This is a nice, gentle bedtime caning for good girls." He gave her another moderately hard stroke.

"You can't just make something nice by saying that it is!" she pouted.

"I'm pretty sure that's actually how it works," Danny said, pleased with himself. Sophie and I made sad faces at him, but this obviously did nothing. This was tragic, because we minded the caning SO MUCH (yeah, no we didn't!).

After he'd finished caning us, Danny remembered that he had his belt on, so he took this off and applied it to us. It was very nice. Belting has become a favorite spanking activity recently: it seems to be just the right mix of sting and thud, and often very well distributed. Like I mentioned before, there's something hot and manly about taking a belt off. This particular segment was especially enjoyable.

When the belting was over, we got a cool down and then a nice lotion rub and I found myself in the "no bones syndrome" kind of state, where I couldn't just get up and walk and had to roll around like I was lacking any actual muscular control. I sort of rolled back into my panties and then into bed, where the three of us cuddled all night. Friends who cuddle in bed together are the best kinds of friends.

While in Denver I also did a bondage shoot, which is something that I'm still fairly new at. This shoot was with The Monk of Mayhem. He was a really personable and nice guy, and I enjoyed chatting with him when I wasn't gagged. :) Bondage is intense and serious business, but I find filming it to be gratifying. There's a lot of discomfort associated with bondage, largely in the form of being stretched in odd ways for longer than my body wants to be and in the horrible pins and needles feeling that comes when I'm finally untied from a pose. This is extremely different than the kinds of pain that I'm used to, and it's a bit strange for me, but it's never been "bad." The primary word that I have to describe it is "interesting." Sometimes it's intense. Sometimes it doesn't even feel kinky to me. It's almost always very aesthetically pleasing, though:

Photo by The Monk of Mayhem

The whole time that all this stuff was happening, though, my mind was often elsewhere. I was constantly aware of how many days were left before Paul arrived to visit me, and I got increasingly more excited and jittery as the number of days got lower and lower. The night before he was to get here, I could hardly sleep. I kept waking up and wondering if it was the time that I was supposed to leave to pick him up from the airport yet, which it of course was not.
I finally slept, though, and woke up surprisingly refreshed. The day that followed was one of the best ever. You'll hear about it in the next post. ♥

"The Awful Stuff" and Goodbyes.

As my time in England drew to a close, I felt a certain sense of sadness drawing on me. While my trip had begun with me hating everything and desperately wanting to be home, the thought of leaving now made my heart heavy. Of course I was looking forward to seeing everyone that I hadn't for so long, but it didn't stop my other feelings. I was made more sensitive and vulnerable than I usually am (so, that's saying something!) by the combination of this and a stressful situation that was going on back in the states. Everyone remained very patient with me, though and I got to have several more exciting adventures before the day did arrive when I had to leave.

One day, close to the end of my visit, Paul took me for a walk on the shore. Having grown up by the sea, I'm always fascinated by visiting beaches that are different than the New Jersey coastline that I identify in my mind when I hear the word "ocean." It was very different: the waves were small and choppy, but without foam, the water seemed to be a different hue, and the beach itself was made up of a mixture of tiny rocks and broken shells.

And sailboats. 

Being by the water is linked to the majority of my positive childhood memories, and it's a setting that brings me back to a happy part of my mind, making me feel small, but in an entirely comfortable way. Paul held my hand as we walked along, although I constantly stopped to pick up tiny seashells. These shells are precious to me, now, and I always have one of them in the pocket of my favorite sweater, and just running my fingers over it reminds me of that buffer I talked about before: safety, comfort and love. I later discovered that one of them has a hole in it naturally, so I stuck it on a chain and often wear it as a necklace.

Shell necklace, as seen around my neck in this photo from the other day by Amoni.

Another fun experience happened when Zoe came over and spent the night (along with two other girls who I didn't really know) and mass girliness ensued. It was lovely to hang out in a group of people, where we chatted and drank champagne while Lucy dyed one of the other girls' hair, but the part of the evening that mostly stands out in my mind was once Zoe and I were meant to go to bed. She was staying in the same room as me, and in the time honored tradition of any two girls spending a night together that usually don't, we stayed up extremely late chatting. We kept giggling and then remembering to be quiet and whispering for a moment, and then someone would say something that would make the other gasp and we'd forget and get noisy again. We talked about all kinds of things, including how we got into the scene and how we both started filming, and we shared awkward but funny stories and even a few personal secrets. Eventually, we went to sleep, but not without several false starts of "Okay, we really have to go to bed now!" "Alex! It's three! Go to sleep!" "Zoe! Stop talking!" 

The next morning, Zoe painted my nails for me. She's into nail art, and I asked her to do Pikachu faces for me, which she gladly and successfully did. I found this to be the most delightful thing that has ever happened to my hands (in a few days you will hear about the least delightful thing that has ever happened to my hands). I'm still impressed with how cute they are. It was a sad day when I eventually had to take them off.

Zoe Page is the most awesome ever. 

I think it was the next day that I left Paul and Lucy's house. Paul took me to another town, where we were both filming for Bars and Stripes on the day before I had to leave to go back. I was quite sad to leave, and I said my goodbyes to Lucy then, although I would be seeing her at BBW as well.

Shooting for Bars was incredibly fun for me. There was the fact that there were a ton of people that I liked all on set together: Paul, Stephen and Zoe all topped me (I got to be the center of lots of tops' attention again! Bonus!) and Michael was filming. We were filming at Dodgy Dave's place, and he was around and assisting, and I got to know him a bit. It was just a lovely group of people, and a wonderful way to end my visit. I also loved the content that we filmed. I mentioned before that I've recently gotten more into doing "dark and horrible" scenes. At some point, I realized that as much as I love the sweet and innocent stuff, or the very consensual play that I engage in at home, as much as I relish in the good feeling of being beaten by someone with affection for me, there's something that I find positively invigorating about scenes with non consensual themes. I've gotten very fond of abuses of power, force, pressure, terrible unfairness, power held via intimidation rather than respect and so on (in role play, of course). The content that we filmed for Bars was all about that stuff. There was no "you're really a good girl, we care about you quite a bit, but you're going to get spanked anyway." In it's place was a general sense of nastiness, authority figures who disliked me and were very liberal with their force, yelling, shouting back and forth at each other, manhandling, trickery and sleeping on the floor with only a blanket. Again, whenever I say that I'm getting into something new, I don't mean that my interest in this replaces anything that I was previously into, or is more important than that which I traditionally liked all of the sudden. It's just an expansion of my taste to include additional things, or a growth of my set of options.

I originally kind of imagined that there would be something uncomfortable about filming this sort of stuff with people who were my favorite people in real life, like I wouldn't be able to take their scariness seriously. In actuality, it was probably only as awesome as it was because of the fact that I knew and trusted everyone involved. It was delightful to step so far outside of myself that I was in a world where I was fearful and angry towards these people one moment, and then, as soon as we cut, I immediately started snuggling them. I trusted everyone enough that there was no real emotional discomfort when things got intense. I just felt very secure, and delighted by the darkness of the scenes. I don't mean to say that any of the stuff we filmed was vicious. It just wasn't "nice." But it was hot. All of it felt wonderful to do.

The final scene that I filmed in England was a double caning from Paul and Stephen, and it was probably the best film to finish with. I've always been kind of infatuated by the idea of co-topping, and I hadn't had a lot of chances to do well developed scenes of that nature before this trip. I was lucky enough to get to do two of them: the scene I'm discussing and one for Dreams of Spanking where I got double strapped by Pandora Blake and Thomas Cameron. Both of these scenes were delightful. Besides all the things I've just discussed above, there were two things about this scene that really stood out to me. One was the fact that for part of it, the two Tops were kind of chatting amongst themselves about things unrelated to the work at hand (that is to say, unrelated to caning me). I found this to be horribly dismissive and objectifying in a way that was incredibly appropriate to the scene and was also thrilling. The other moment which stands out to me was near the end of the scene when I was made to thank Officer Kennedy for beating me. This stands out in my mind because it made me aware of just how deeply into my character role I'd gotten and how much a different atmosphere can change the way things feel to me. In "real life," it feels entirely normal to thank someone for spanking me. I throw it out spontaneously in the middle of a scene sometimes when something hurts in a way that makes me particularly submissive. If I was prompted to thank someone at the end of the scene, I might feel slightly sheepish that I hadn't remembered to do it on my own without reminding, the way that I feel when someone has to remind me to rinse my bowl before putting it in the sink. In this scene, it was horrible. It was enraging. It was tremendously humiliating. I refused. I would not. That's a rotten, awful thing to ask of a person, and only a terrible man would demand such a thing, thought my in-character brain. Eventually, of course, I did, but it was bitter.

Then the scene was done, and I felt incredibly high. Filled with positive emotion and endorphins. Elevated by having gone to such a place in my brain. Having been co-topped meant that I had an excuse to force two people to hug me instead of one (although, really, with this group of people I didn't need an excuse or force ^_^).

And then we were finished filming, and I felt sad again. My adventure was ending. It was almost over.
That night was melancholy to me, but very nice. We went out to dinner at a pub all together, and Zoe and I got excessively big ice creams, just like we had the first night, when Paul had picked me up and taken us up to Derbyshire. We all bantered back and forth, told stories and laughed as we relaxed from the day's work. Eventually, it was time for everyone else to go home except for Paul and I, who were spending the night at Dodgy Dave's place, as I'd be going to the airport early in the morning. At some point, I had started to get sick. I thought perhaps I was allergic to something in the air, although I later discovered that I was actually just getting a cold. Anyway, I sneezed and my nose ran basically the rest of the night, which made me feel kind of silly and awkward. Despite this, that evening stands out in my mind as one of the sweeter ones ever. Paul looked after me in a way that was firm but extremely affectionate, and I melted into that feeling. We went up to bed fairly early, as I had to get up in the morning and that's not something that's ever easy for me, and then he sat on the bed, put me over his lap and spanked me lovingly for a terrifically long time. I imagined that the entire world was that moment, so that I wouldn't worry about it being over, and melted into some quiet space in my mind where I was delicate and vulnerable but very well protected. This was, of course, interrupted by my constant sneezing, but that really didn't bother me much. This was good.

When the spanking was over, my bottom was buzzing with heat, but the rest of me felt entirely relaxed.
"How do you feel?" he asked me.
"Vulnerable. Safe. Happy." I answered, my voice difficult to find and control.
"Good," he said. "Do you want to know how I feel?" I nodded. "Wonderful," he said.

After that, I snuggled up against him and tried to fall asleep. It almost pleased me that I kept sniffling and keeping myself up, because I liked being awake in that moment, floating in some relaxed, half awake snuggle state. Eventually, though, I slept.

In the morning, Paul took me to the airport, where I we ate breakfast together before I had to get on my plane and leave. Somehow, I managed not to cry until I was in flight, where I snuck into the bathroom to do it. It was okay, though. I knew I'd be back. ♥

The "Little Bitch" Saga

While the action of this story takes place in Vegas, it begins in a very different time and place.

It was one of those evenings where I was alone in my apartment in South Dakota and Malignus was working. Both my professional work and my chores were completed for the evening, so I was sitting on the computer chatting to people and using Fetlife.

Recently, my darling twinsie, ellee, had been to a party in New York where she had met and played with Richard Windsor. From the very onset of my experience on Fetlife, Richard had been one of my favorite people. I liked his sense of humor, his ability to start a good discussion and his attitude towards play. I had been aware of him and his blog for longer than I'd been active in the virtual community, and I was delighted by how lovely he seemed online. We had met for the first time during Shadowlane, but unfortunately  I was super overbooked at that party and didn't get to see half of the people that I wanted to. It also seemed to me that Rich was the kind of person who preferred pre-negotiated play over the "Hey, I'm here! Wanna spank me for the next ten minutes before I leave again?" sort of thing, which is really what most of my play at Shadowlane ended up being. After having our rather short meeting, though, my desire to actually get to scene with him had intensified, and listening to ellee talk about how amazing her experience had been brought this back to the front of my mind.

I wanted to engage, but more specifically, I wanted to show my interest in a bantery, fun, spank-flirty way. This is something that I'm not good at. My preference is to be a good girl, sometimes even doing so excessively to the point of being annoying to others around me. I know that in my regular home life, I'm never going to be intentionally bratty, but I also know that there's a time and an audience for it and that it can be incredibly entertaining. The idea of having fun first and then getting spanked later sounded rather perfect for me. So I decided to wait for a window of opportunity and then try my hand at it.

It just so happened that the night in question, The Spanking World: Good vs. Bad was having a field day, and I happily joined in, joking and bantering. A few days/weeks before that, Rich had started a topic in the group, but when no one replied for a while, he took it down. He explained this in a post elsewhere in the group: "No one responded for 43 minutes, so I figured no one was going to and deleted it." (this is paraphrased. I cannot find the actual post anymore). This lead to lots of teasing and hilarity  Later that evening, I posted a new set of self-taken photos:

I was pretty pleased with the photo set, but despite the fact that lots of people were active on Fetlife, I wasn't getting any comments. I then made the following post to the famous "Pet Peeves" thread:

And then there was...

To which I responded:

Rich then commented on my photo, and I waited for exactly 43 minutes before replying to his comment. I literally sat next to my computer with a timer and waited. I was on a roll, and I was quite sure that everyone thought I was hilarious.

Really, it should have stopped there, but I was drunk with the glory of my new-found ability to draw spankings to myself in a hilarious manner, so I kept referring to the 43 minute rule and calling Richard a little bitch whenever I got the chance, and it probably got legitimately annoying. This was something that I originally really didn't want: I just wanted it to be funny and then for me to get beaten over it, and there were signs that I was actually becoming irritating (maybe even offensive?) later on, so I decided to lay low until the Vegas party, which I successfully did. My biggest fear in this whole out of character, behavior experiment was that I would actually hurt someone's feelings, create a nuisance or make someone think less of me, and I did worry that I had pushed things too far at the end.

Still, whenever anyone asked me about the story, I was happy to tell the entire thing, and I was quite pleased with myself. Rich had made it quite clear to me what the consequences for my actions were to be by sending me a series of voice recordings that were specifically designed to make my heart pound and my stomach flutter, I think. I was going to get 12 strokes of the cane, and after each stroke, I would need to repeat my most inappropriate phrase before the next. I let myself get enjoyably worked up over this. The anticipation built and built, and when we arrived at the party, Richard told me that I would be getting my caning on Sunday so that I got the maximum time to wait and think about things.

I ended up having to discuss practical concerns, which are my least favorite things when dealing with spanking play. I want to be able to just do whatever the fuck that I want, whenever I want. That's the way the world works, right? Unfortunately, this is not always the case. I was leaving from Vegas to go to England and would be filming in just a few days after arriving, so I couldn't leave the party all beaten and battered looking. This was also a concern in my play with YS: I had to ask him not to mark me during our last scene together, even though I really wanted him to. I wanted YS to spank me super hard and long and to leave me feeling sore and looking bruised so that I would continue to be enveloped in the safety and love of the time that we'd spent together. As it was, I wasn't able to get that, exactly, although all of our play together over the weekend left me with very positive memories, and the combination of everyone's efforts meant that I was very sore while flying to England. Anyway, I was worried that I would be in bad condition by Sunday and would not be able to be caned, and on Saturday night I was feeling a bit tired and emotionally stretched thin and I wasn't going to be able to put my heart into the scene if we did it then. Richard and I talked about all this, and we decided that I would be fine to get caned on Sunday before I had to leave. I set aside more time than we would probably actually need for it, just in case, and to avoid rushing. I think because of my temporary anti-marking agenda I may not have been caned as hard as I possibly could have, but because this was our first real scene together, I was somewhat alright with that.

On Sunday morning I took my time getting up and getting dressed and then spent some final private time focusing on my D/s dynamic with YS. Then it was time to go to "Strick"Dave's spanking court. When we left our room to talk down to the main suite, YS held his hand out for me to take and ended up feeling like I was in middle school or something. It was the sweetest gesture, and it made me feel a giddy, girly feeling inside. When we got to court, it had already started so we sort of snuck into the back. Court is always hilarious, and I have huge respect for (and probably a bit of a spanko-crush on) Dave: he seems to be knowledgable about everything, always quick to respond, makes me laugh lots and has just flat out impressive spanking skills. I was involved in one court case: in which Whooperine charged me with making fun of him for eating chicken wings with a fork. I did not even bother trying to defend myself against this, because several people had seen me say this, so I just argued that what I said wasn't so much mockery as it was fact. I may have been found guilty and gotten ten strokes, but I think that I sufficiently was able to make court a venue for further Whooperine-teasing, which meant that everything was right with the world. Throughout all these proceedings, though, I had a funny feeling in my tummy. Richard had handed me a note when I first came in that instructed me to go to my room after court and stand in the corner and wait for him. He was dressed sharply and had a very serious look on his face all the way through the court proceedings. His unbudging nature made me get even more worked up over what was about to happen. I had the classic mixture of terror and excitement. It was an excellent state of being.

As soon as I finished my case, I told Richard that I was going to my room then, in the interest of time (or maybe he told me to? I don't remember this part too well). What I do remember well is the walk down the hallway towards my suite. I had just walked this path with YS less than hour ago, practically skipping gleefully and then, it had seemed extremely short. Now, it stretched on and on in front of me. It was dizzyingly long! I found myself pausing to wipe my hands off on my skirt, because they were sweating. "How big is this hotel?" I wondered to myself. "I feel like I've been walking for an hour."

I finally arrived in the room and I propped the door open so that Richard would be able to enter when he came in. I then went pretty directly into the corner and began to wait. I could hear my blood rushing around inside my ears and hear my heart beating. I was very detached from my regular self and simply existing in this moment. My world was a world where I'd been a badly behaved girl and I was going to be soundly, severely punished for it. Thump, Thump, Thump went my heart.

Finally, Richard appeared and called me out of the corner. I'm sure my face must have been pretty pathetic: I was literally quivering. His manner in addressing me was stern and unbending and it made all my other feelings even more intense. I didn't protest against anything, just quietly submitted to getting into position for the cane. When he tested it in the air, I gasped at just the sound. From the time that the caning began until maybe ten minutes afterwards, I was in a liminal space on the verge of crying. Richard had said that he expected that I may cry, so I knew that was acceptable. For whatever reason, though, I never actually did: I think that I had too much nervous energy, too much anticipation and adrenaline to actually get to tears. Besides, I don't think that I've ever cried the first time that someone gave me a serious spanking (with the exception of my very first spanking). I think it's sort of an usual space for me, and my brain doesn't know which part of the mixed set of emotions to respond to.

Richard had positioned me over a barstool, in basically the same position that YS had used, but while yesterday's spanking had felt warm and close, this one felt austere and formal. It pushed a whole different (and much rarer to be pushed) set of buttons for. I was given a piece of paper which read "MR. WINDSOR IS NOT A LITTLE BITCH" which I was to recite after each stroke (this paper is currently tucked in my wallet behind my credit cards, which I suppose could prove awkward at some point, but I don't want to lose it). The first stroke made me gasp and whimper. I had trouble getting my voice in order to speak to read the sentence. I think I may have actually moved my mouth without any sound coming out, like trying to bring myself to wake someone sleeping in a dark room when my mind believes that it is necessary to be entirely quiet.

"Mr. Windsor is not a little bitch," I managed. The cane landed again, in a hot, stinging stroke. Again, I repeated the sentence. On the third stroke, I had a moment of fear when I realized that I was only a quarter of the way done with the caning. Just like the hallway had before, twelve strokes seemed impossibly long. The scene had gotten into some deep part of my brain and had twisted my senses of time and distance. It felt like a very long time before the next stroke.
Sometimes, I would rush the sentence out quickly. Others, I would whimper and wail a bit, catch my breath, move my feet and then whisper. At one point, I apologized, but I was firmly reminded that it was not the time for that. When I finally read the sentence for the last time and received my final stroke, I felt like I had been in the scene for ages, when in reality, I can't imagine that it took more than ten minutes between the first and last stroke. Each one had been memorable, though: they cut, they bit, they slashed, they buzzed and itched and chewed at me. When it was done, I was suffering from "No bones syndrome" and sort of poured myself onto the couch in a snuggling position with Richard.

We talked a bit and I felt very relieved and relaxed. The whole thing had been such an intense and powerful situation that it took me a little bit to sort of "come to" from it, but when I did, I was very happy with the whole experience. We hugged and everything was forgiven.

I feel very certain that I will never call Richard a little bitch ever, ever again. ♥

Stress and Relief

(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?"

"No, Sir."

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. 

A Calm Simplicity

Updated 12/21/14: I've been re-reading some older blog posts and I came across this one. I want to add a little bit of modern commentary on it, now that I have a perspective from outside of that relationship. 

My relationship with Malignus was my first D/s relationship. I had a sort of unformed relationship that involved discipline before that and a play partner, but never a Dominant. I actually didn't know very much about D/s when I got involved in it, and most of what I knew I was taught by Malignus. At the time that I wrote this, I believed that in order to be a "good" submissive and to "fully" submit, I had to be able to take very severe spankings without warmups, with minimal encouragement, without moving or crying out to any degree and without the necessity of aftercare. 

I now don't think that this is actually a particularly healthy way to approach scenes, and I don't want anyone new to D/s or to spanking who might read this to think that this kind of play is normative or something that should be strived for. Please read this with the understanding that this scene had aspects of it that were very positive for me, but took place within the framework of an unhealthy relationship. My emphasis on fear of disappointing someone makes me feel sad when I re-read this. It has taken me a long time to get the idea out my head that my natural reactions to things are not something that will disappoint people. 

The rest of the text of this post has been left intact with no changes made to the text except this addition. 


This afternoon, Malignus decided to give me a spanking. There wasn't an established atmosphere for it: it simply began with "Let's hit you with stuff!" He started the spanking with a wooden spoon named Warren (the implement which featured heavily in this very old post and which I thought I lost once).  It's certainly not a kind implement. Once upon a time, I had designated my three least favorite implements as "The Trinity of Terror:  Warren, a small bladed but very thick lexan paddle and the nylon cane.

The Trinity of Terror, shown with Zelda, which is not relevant to this post.  The other three items very much are.

The spanking started off slowly, but I met it with some level of resistance. I don't mean I thrashed around or protested or anything extreme, but I let my body be tense, I moved around on the bed a bit and I continually cried out into the pillow. I leaned my body away from Malignus. My hands grabbed at the far end of the mattress in a tense desperation. There are a lot of different ways in which a spanking can go, and recently, for arbitrary or re-affirmative style spankings, we've been working on me meeting them passively and fully submitting to the spanking. This isn't the way that I generally react with other Tops, or in other atmospheres, but it's an important area that we've been working on. It's certainly been a challenge for me, though.

The spanking was very painful in a fiery, stinging way. The small surface area made one little section take all the force, and then another, and then another. At one point, I did something which is somewhat unusual for me during a spanking and I said something cogent: "This hurts!"

"Yes," Malignus acknowledged. "It does. But it's going to hurt less when you stop fighting against it. Let it break you down."

I tried to do exactly that, but I was just spinning my wheels. I got into a bit of a groove for a while, being still and keeping my body fairly relaxed. Malignus praised me for this, but I didn't really keep it up. The spanking picked up pace, and I found myself back to a state of struggle against the pain that was building. After things reached a crescendo, Malignus stopped and I took several deep breaths.

I'm going to digress for a moment. I'm willing to bet that you guys have seen Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. The first time I saw that movie, I really started needing to pee about halfway through. Unfortunately, the movie didn't feel like it was about halfway through. It felt like it was almost over. I figured I could just wait until it ended. The movie would seem like it was about to end, and then start to seem like it was wrapping itself up, and then it would GO ON TO SOMETHING ELSE. Then that would wrap itself up, it would seem to be about over and then it would GO ON TO SOMETHING ELSE. Near the end I was becoming infinitely frustrated. I just wanted it to quit fake ending and just ACTUALLY END. In a movie, those moments that suggest that something is almost over when it really isn't are one of my pet peeves. They make me crazy. (By the way, I totally adore LOTR and I'm really excited to see The Hobbit this weekend. kthnx!)

In a spanking, however, those moments when you think that things are almost over and start to prepare yourself for them to be done, only to find out that you're closer to halfway through have a really strong, positive effect on me. They make me feel out of control in a very safe and very good way. The length and intensity of my spanking is not being determined by me. That's entirely up to my Dominant. It puts me in a very secure and submissive state of mind, and speeds up the process of breaking down my resistance. In my head, I call spankings that seem to stop, or appear to be reaching their end, only to begin again in earnest "Lord of the Rings spankings" because of the above story. (Note-- I realize I'm going to probably start getting some strange search terms showing up on my google analytics because of this).

Returning to my original story, that's what happened today. Malignus did, indeed, set down Warren. He had completed spanking me with it, just as I had originally believe. Instead of ending the spanking (which, if I was being honest with myself, I did not really want anyway) he reached under the bed and returned with the small, Lexan paddle pictured above. That paddle hurts a lot. It's one of the worst things I've been spanked with. I tried to be submissive to it, and to let it push me. Instead, I think that my resistance began to intensify (I say "I think" because this is the area of the spanking where my memory starts to get a little bit fuzzy, even though it was just eight hours ago or something). After giving me a handful of swats on my bottom, Malignus tapped the paddle against my thigh. I know that he does not do this to "line up his shot" like some people do. The purpose of pre-swat tapping has always been to get inside my head. I felt very vulnerable for the second before that stroke landed on my thigh, and then I felt a surge of pain that seemed to run through my entire body. And then another. And then another. And then another. I was really reacting to the pain, vocalizing and crying out in a manner that was probably excessive. Despite feeling wonderfully loved and taken care of, and being very aware of how much of my stress was dissipating, I was certainly not reaching my goal of calm and quiet submission. Then, for a minute, it was over.

I was actually quite relieved on some level when Malignus grabbed another implement. I knew that I wanted to give myself over to the spanking more, and I would have been very disappointed in my performance at that if it had stopped there. The implement which he had selected, however, was my nemesis: the nylon cane. I don't know if he intentionally used the three implements that I once selected as my least favorites or if it just worked out that way, but it was something that didn't even cross my mind until much later. At the moment, all I was aware of was the fact that I was going to be caned.

He did so rapidly, at a pace that I was largely unfamiliar with. He wasn't using "full" strokes, but the combined effective was overpowering. At first, I continued to struggle and cry out and then, all the sudden, everything stopped. I don't mean that the caning stopped-- it continued at the same pace and intensity. I stopped. My resistance went away and I just lay perfectly still. I fell silent.

"Good girl," Malignus praised me. "VERY good."

The caning continued, as did my passive state. It still hurt, but I was experiencing something which I've had limited experiences with: a powerful rush of endorphins. I have no idea for how long things continued. In my mind, it was both very long and very short. I felt really, really good. It was different than the drug-like experience I'd had the first time I fell into subspace, but equally wonderful. I felt entirely relaxed, but I also felt a joyful exuberance in my chest. I was really aware of what was happening to me and I was proud and excited. I felt simultaneously tranquilized and hyper stimulated. My brain was very confused, and it was awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome.

Once things finally did stop, Malignus rubbed my back and comforted me for a long time. The good feeling lingered.

The spanking was still not entirely over.

After I was able to speak properly again (although I don't remember what I said), Malignus got one more cane-- a 1" acrylic cane that is probably the most weight bearing cane in our collection (strike that, known to man). He gave me six strokes with it, and while I wasn't entirely silent, I still took them well and felt the same surge of good feelings. After that, he gave me a really lovely cool down. Hours later, I'm still a little bit sore, and I'm still very smiley about it.
♥

TASSP!

Well, I'm back to writing about happy spanking related things! Yay!
The first thing on my list of things that I need to tell you about is a very big deal indeed: my first national spanking party!

I wasn't originally planning to go to the Texas All State Spanking Party. I hadn't been to a big party before, and I figured that money would be too tight, so I was going to look past it with a sigh like I had previously done with all parties until Heather told me that she was going to be going to attending and invited Malignus and I to come as well. I looked into how much plane tickets would cost and was surprised that I actually had enough money to afford them. Heather and her boyfriend, Taylor, shared a room with Malignus and I, and the party fees and hotel rooms were really well priced. So, at close to the last minute, we made our plans to go. I booked a few shoots to help with the costs and Malignus and I made plans to have a booth at the vendor fair for the Malex Modeling Agency. That's our new business that we've been working furiously on for a while now: a spanking modeling agency that works with spanking video producers and spanking models. We planned to go public with this at the TASSP vendor fair and spent lots of time getting our promotional materials in order. You'll hear lots more about the agency later on.

We were flying out of Omaha, so the plan for getting to the party involved waking up at midnight to leave Sioux Falls at 1 AM to get to Omaha by 4 AM to make our flight, and it put us in Dallas around 8 AM on Friday. This meant that I was supposed to go to bed as soon as I got home from work, but I couldn't sleep a wink. I was just too excited about the party. I packed and did chores around the house and cleaned out my car in order to kill time, but when I woke Malignus up around 9 PM, he insisted that I force myself to sleep. I don't know if I ever actually did drop off. I planned to sleep during his turn driving to the airport. I didn't really sleep then, either. On the plane, I had to share a seat with strangers who kept rubbing up against me in ways that woke me up, so I didn't really get any rest there, either. I was somehow still bouncy and full of energy when I was picked up at the airport by a couple of friends.

We drove to the hotel, but stopped on the way to eat breakfast at a diner. I was very surprised that you can apparently smoke indoors in some parts of Texas. I don't usually smoke, but I had fun doing that. Whee!

We got to the hotel, dropped our stuff off at our friends' room (since we couldn't check in for a few more hours and didn't want to until we met up with Heather anyway) and then went to register. I was very nervous at this point, because I was about to meet lots of people who I'd never met before all at once. As soon as I opened up the door to the registration suite, though, I was greeted by Pandora Blake, who shouted "ALEX!" and hugged me. I was very relieved to run into her right away, since we've been friends online for a while now. We read each others blogs and tweet back and forth and were excited about meeting each other, and just seeing her really put me at ease. We got all checked in and then headed back to our friends' room for a much needed nap.

We got up for our nap in time for me to meet up with Heather and give her a huge hug. I've really missed having her around, and we got to reconnect and spend lots of time together during TASSP. We got checked into our room and I proceeded to throw my things all over the floor in search of school girl clothing, because it was time for Sarah Gregory's Naughty School Girl Party. First, I asked Malignus to give me a warmup spanking, because I hadn't been spanked for a few days leading up to the party and didn't want to be spanked cold during the event! He gladly did this, although his idea of a warmup was very hard and fast. Still, I felt both warm and loved when he finished, and I was ready for the party. This event was lots of fun: female bottoms dressed up in their school day best and were taught lessons by a host of tops who were dressed as priests and nuns. I would have preferred for them to be dressed in suits (more like the way Dana Kane looked when we were shooting for Sternwood Academy) because I'm squicked by religious figures. It's mostly because of my philsophical views, but I don't fetishize them at all, and I'm just not at ease around them. That said, I let that go and focused on being bratty with Heather, Christy Cutie and a new friend I'd just met named Zoe. First, we had to line up to have our skirts measured by Dana Spect. The skirt I was wearing was a real school skirt, and it came down nearly to my knees, unlike many of the sexy skirts other girls had on. After holding a ruler up to me, Dana lead me to the front of the room and announced that I was an example of a good girl and that my skirt was what the other girls should aim to look like. I was beaming with pride. Praised in front of everyone? Yes please!

I did quickly realize that being a goody-goody-Hermione-Granger type wasn't going to get me very much attention with everyone else throwing pieces of paper, launching darts and sneaking beer into the classroom, though, so I figured I had to do something at least a little naughty at a naughty school girl party. I had a package of Fun Dip in my purse which Malignus had won for me the last time we'd gone to the arcade together, so we started eating that very obviously while we were supposed to be learning. Heather, Zoe and I were quickly pulled aside and given OTK spankings and warned not to eat any more candy in class. It was the first time I've ever been spanked in front of a live audience before, since a group of other guests were gathered in the back of the room watching the proceedings. I kept myself in the "performer" part of my brain that I use when doing videos and made sure to kick and squirm! It was lots of fun.
Heather and I had to scoot out of the event before it ended because Heather hadn't eaten and we needed to hunt down some food before she went to her shoot with Amateur Spankings, so we missed having the entire "school" lined up to be spanked, but we had tons of fun anyway.

I have to go for now, but stories shall continue in the next post, and there will be pictures that time, I promise!

Shamrocks and Sjamboks!

This post is, as my holiday and special occasion posts tend to be, slightly belated. Oh well! Happy St. Patrick's Day, Blogland!

St. Patrick's Day is a holiday that I primarily stopped celebrating after I graduated from college. In Los Angeles, I first lived in an extremely hispanic neighborhood, then in Chinatown. Not a lot of Irish going on in those parts. I also greatly decreased the amount of getting excessively intoxicated that I was up to after graduation, and what kind of fun can be had on St. Patrick's day without getting totally plastered?

The answer is spanking fun. The whole thing started with a shirt that scotchgrove got me which reads "Spank Me I'm Irish." To get the question out of the way before I get into it, I'm only a quarter Irish. The rest of me is English, Polish and Panamanian. I'm still Irish enough to get spanked for it, as far as I'm concerned! This is my second spanking related t-shirt. This one, however, is plain looking enough that scotchgrove encouraged me to wear it in public. I set my mind on doing so.

On Friday I had the day off from work. Malignus left me with a list of things to do, which I affirmed that I would accomplish. I then took a nap (because my sleep schedule had remained disturbed) and when I got up and got ready, I decided it would be a good time to take some photos with the t-shirt and a pair of St. Patrick's Day panties that I picked up. I set up my laptop's camera and did a mini photoshoot in the bedroom by myself. I then figured out how to make a photo collage online.

Shortly after I completed this, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find the UPS man standing there with a very long box. There aren't nice things that come in boxes like that. Besides, scotchgrove had been threatening me with more murder-presents (horrible implements as gifts) for a while. The title of this post gives away what was in said long box: it was a sjambok of my very own. It was hard to be appreciative.

Now, as a general rule, I don't talk about disciplinary things on my blog unless they're part of a larger point. This is because I don't want to glorify my bad behavior (or sometimes even share something like that publicly) and because discipline is a very private and personal part of my life. I'm going to deviate from that standard for a bit because this story is entertaining and very worth sharing.

Imagine that you're a girl in a D/s or DD relationship (perhaps you needn't imagine at all!). Now imagine that you've just received the worst implement imaginable as a gift when you were at home waiting for your partner to return from work. You have a set of things you are expected to get done. What would you do?

If you have half a brain and don't like getting hit with sjamboks, your response would probably be something along the lines of "get my chores done before doing anything else."

scotchgrove described the situation the best when I told him ex post facto: "For such a smart girl," he told me, "you can be pretty stupid sometimes."

I figured I could spend more time on the internet and talking on the phone and doing other unnecessary stuff before I needed to get everything done. It's not a good skill to have, but I am kind of a pro at hustling chores out at the last minute.

That's pretty much me.

My confidence got the best of me and I ended up wasting the day away. I was still at the grocery store when Malignus got home from work. Going to said store was the first thing from my list of chores that I had done all day.

On the way home, my brain could pretty much be documented like this:

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.

The Struggle

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 Naomi 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.

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.

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.