Posts tagged ‘spanking’

September 15th, 2013

Back to School

It was Club Lash on Friday.  As usual, I was helping the RWN guys and was able to actually carry equipment in and out of the venue!  That’s a huge deal for me as I’ve not really had the strength in my hip to be able to do it until now.  It was also the Skool! theme night, something I would often ignore but felt like dressing a little bit silly.

Once we were set up, he ordered me to get changed, to make myself look like the cutest school girl I could.  I already had my hair in buns, a look that automatically makes me look a lot younger and more innocent.  On went my plaid skirt, my actual school tie, white knee high socks, shirt and crazy Mary Jane shoes.  I felt so very young, so very vulnerable and very much taken back to being a well behaved girl from when I was at school.  The outfit preparation took me from giggling, over caffeinated me to submissive, well behaved me.  I had thought that I just wanted to be used that night but, from then on, I wanted to be controlled, looked after, protected.

Most of the time, our D/s relationship isn’t high protocol and definitely isn’t a 24/7 thing.  I will often be bratty, take control myself or just be spending time very much as equals, with one of my closest friends.  There are the times, though, that I want to be controlled, that I want to adhere to rules and protocol, I want to do almost anything to make him proud of me.

He started with rope work.  Stripped down to just white knickers and a ball gag, in front of what turned into quite a large crowd.  A sign of things that have changed for me as I used to hate wearing gags and the idea of them in public…  Trying so hard to not just shy away from people’s gaze, trying so hard not to bow my head in embarrassment.  Finding it easier with time as the rope caressed my skin and took me to my happy rope headspace.  Taking a particularly hard beating and caning whilst in stressful rope.  Then being let down, allowed to kneel at his feet, ordered to tidy his rope in exchange for my clothes, him knowing it’s one of my favourite post rope play activities.

Back to reality and he took me for some fresh air, a stroll around the Village, making sure I was well aware of people looking at me.  Showing me off.

Back to Lash.  Chatting with friends, having a drink, asking permission to play with K.  A lovely flogging that put me into a daze.  Heavy, with soothing caresses.

Then back he came, to finish his beating.  Fists pummelling me, teeth biting into my flesh, my body sinking lower.  And then the spanking came.  The heavy, full force, slaps to my arse.  Over and over again.  Followed by my shoulders, my back and my arse again.  Heat rising from me, body craving, back arching for more.  Him pushing me, wanting to hear me cry out, wanting the tears to flow down my face.  And they came, but only when to led me off and sat me down, looked me in the eyes and told me how proud he was, how much he loves me, how beautiful I looked.  I feel so lucky and am reminded of how much I have when I hear words like that.  And I earned myself my spanking merit badge.

Our parting moment, on my knees, kissing his boots, his other foot on my neck, pinning me down, putting me in my place.  The place I want to be.

January 2nd, 2013

Merit Badges

I’ve been a fan of the Kinky Merit Badges for a while now and won four of them in the SM Dykes auction at conference last June.  I also got a Jed Phoenix sash to put them on but have never really got round to doing anything with them.  I’ve finally decided that I need to purchase the other three I think I will deserve and set myself tasks to earn these badges.  Along with that, I also want to make/find myself an outfit that looks something like the old Brownie uniforms to wear my sash with so I can be a kinky girl guide!  I just need a shirt dress and a neck tie thing, maybe in latex (Iki, I’m looking at you!)  So I have something like this, but black:

These are the badges I have and what I plan on doing to award them to myself.  It’s all rather silly, to be honest, but why should kink be so serious all the time?

Flogging

I want to get better at my flogging technique as I can already take quite a flogging and have made my own floggers.  I am not going to award this one to myself until I feel I can use the long flogger we bought at Folsom.

Bondage

This one is going to also be awarded for my topping ability too as I would love to learn how to do some basic ties and use the lovely rope Ruby gave me for Christmas.  I will award this to myself when I feel I have managed a scene using rope where I have good connection with my bottom and not just focusing on the rope itself.

Caning

This is going to be one I earn for bottoming, I feel as it has been a long time since I’ve been able to receive a caning due to my brain’s difficulty processing pain.  I will know when I am ready to give myself this one.

Breath Control

To be honest, I think I can already give myself this one as I have done this from the top and bottom side of things and love it!

Spanking

This is one that I think I should have from a topping point of view but I don’t think I deserve it yet until I receive another good, hard spanking!

Needle Play

I want to have a few more needle scenes under my belt and possibly also stick needles in a willing bottom before I let myself have this badge.

Deep Throat

I think the husbear would probably agree that I deserve this one already as I really don’t have much of a gag reflex, although I think that I can make someone choke on my femme cock more first!  Teehee!

December 12th, 2011

Spankvent: Take Two

As I said in my last blog, I had S sign up to Spankvent too, her getting the 11th, coinciding nicely with her return from a weekend away.

S likes to tickle me. She says I make cute noises and blames me for her doing it. Apparently, she wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t so cute. Other people seem to agree with her too, embarassingly enough, as S likes to tickle me at Munches and the like. It’s hard for me to explain the exact feelings I get from the combination of being tickled and being called cute. I like being tickled; it’s on my fetish list. On the other hand, being called cute in this context is close to humiliating me. It makes me feel small, silly and helpless. All of which I, not so secretly, love.

So what does this have to do with Spankvent? S was tickling me, which was leaving me a giggling wreak. I may just have a tendency to kick my legs a bit…I happened to have a bit of a tantrum, I don’t even know exactly why. Well, S didn’t like that so I was ordered over her knee. Eleven hand spanks, to be counted down, in German. Not actually difficult but would my brain corporate? I stumbled over my words, distracted by the spanking and the tingling feeling it was giving me. I was let back up and asked if I was sorry for my tantrum. I didn’t say yes quick enough, so another eleven for me, bare bottomed this time. I have to admit, besides the fuzzy head for German, I was enjoying this far too much. Well, I was, until I was until threatened with the shoe horn.

If you ever go to IKEA, pick up one of the plastic shoe horns. They’re a lot of fun (according to S) and rather mean (according to me). After a bout of that, I foolishly thought I was safe and moved the dreaded implement down the bed. This was seen as trying to hide it, which was not remotely what I was doing but I wasn’t believed and was punished for trying to hide it and for lying. That had me close to tears, for I hate to disappoint and I felt horrid that S didn’t believe me. Of course, it was turning me on all the while.

Being called a slut and a whore by S can have several different effects on me but often it just turns me on more, proud to be a slut. In those moments, I am her whore and will take what she gives me, even if that means choking on Dave*, tears forming in my eyes, her hand roughly pulling me by my hair.  I still have a smile on my face thinking of just how hot last night was.

Two Spankvent sessions, two partners and two very different experiences; one very happy Alyss 🙂

*Dave is the pet name for a rather unwielding dildo.  I’m not sure why it’s called Dave, I’ve never actually asked.

December 7th, 2011

Spankvent Special

I follow a number of the British spanking crowd on Twitter, mainly via the husbear’s lover, as they seem an interesting bunch and it’s good to get to know new people, even if just through the social media network.  It’s led me to reading many interesting and exciting blog posts plus introduced me to Abel’s wonderful idea for December: Spankvent

The concept seemed pretty simple; a spanking that involved the number of that day, plus writing about it.  I quickly signed up.  I had my girlfriend sign up.  Then I thought, what the hell have I let myself in for?

I chose the 5th because it is mine and the bear’s wedding anniversary.  A spanking would be fun, would help us connect, would get us in the mood.  Hmmm, I may have hoped for a little too much.  Both of us had crappy days and I thought this’d be the last thing I’d want to do.  I got ready for bed and sat waiting for B to come up.  Nerves were starting to flood me and when he lined up his favourite toys on the bed, I just sat there cowering, hugging my legs under the duvet.  Waiting for him to be ready felt like an eternity.

He pulled me over his knee and warmed up with a hand spanking.  It seemed to go on forever and I moaned and whimpered and cried out the whole time.  I thought it was never going to end, when it wasn’t even all that long.  I knew that wasn’t it either so I lay there, waiting for him to explain.  I was to take 4 strokes with 5 implements of his choosing from the selection.  One for every year of our marriage.  To count in years and to ask for more after each set.  I knew they would be with force.  He wasn’t going to let me off lightly.

When I caught a glimpse of the strap, I started to shake in fear.  It’s thick and heavy and really quite mean when used properly.  I screeched at the first contact, knowing it wouldn’t get easier.  There was no dignity.  Three more and on to the whippy cane.  More screeching and sobbing ensued.  Next was the acetate cane, one that we’ve barely used and know I remember why; there’s no give, it’s so solid and thuddy.  I took the 4 strokes as well as I could, knowing that the next cane was one I bought myself, not expecting it to be used on me.  I was stupid and wrong.  It’s a nice cane and it hurts.  At least now I know that it was worth the money.  For number 5, B decided to return to his favourite cane, the whippy one and thrashed another 4 onto my bared behind.  I wriggled and squealed.  I wanted it to be over but I knew that it wouldn’t be. 

He was admiring his handiwork, feeling the heat rising from my skin.  I felt ashamed, weak, wimpy.  I couldn’t take it well and sounded pathetic.  When I played just over a week ago, I had prided myself in not crying, not complaining and yet here I was, sobbing like a silly child.  But it was ok.  He made sure I was ok and reassured me, holding me in a bear’s embrace and reminding me just how special I am.


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