Here are some of the keys things:
I will admit that every time I checked my phone on Friday for any comments emailed to me, my reactions grew more pronounced. At first I was giggling, then laughing out loud as the numbers grew. Especially as people justified their reasons for posting again 'I prefer prime numbers' or '42 is the answer to life and the universe' etc.
It's not wise to involve the wider kinky community in your play scenes;
You have more readers than you think;
It's a a sure-fire way to make lurkers de-lurk;
Your friends will go out of their way to make sure you get more than you bargained for;
Bottom types are even more cruel and sadistic than the toppy types;
It can result in a wonderfully intense scene.
Abel was having almost as much fun, enjoying every shriek from me of 'oh the feckers, I can't believe it's 29, 35, 47' and so on. Yes on Friday it was all quite light hearted, all hilarious. Not to mention I was distracted by all the other scenes we were doing so not really comprehending what all these comments really meant.
But as I went to bed on Friday night the fear started to set in. I was already quite sore and having to lie on my tummy. I had already felt the dragon cane; it really hurt. How was I going to take so many with it, not to mention all the others before it? I was genuinely worried I wouldn't be able to see it through and have to come back on here and say so. Before I went to sleep I asked Abel to make sure we did the scene and that I got all the strokes I was owed. It had become a matter of pride. (My poor bottom wishes I had rather less pride!)
On Saturday morning the final tally of 50 comments were confirmed (thanks Eliane) and I was more than a little nervous. I was still quite sore from the previous day and the thought of 300 strokes was too much. So I decided not to think about it. The numbers would be Abel's concern, not mine. I'd just bend over and take it. Just another scene, right? Except it wasn't, because I'd signed up for this., I has asked for it. Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk and all that.
In some ways I felt like I didn't have the option of not going through with it. Like I didn't have the option of safewording if I needed to. Which is interesting because I never safeword. So far I've played with very experienced people who read me well and always just push me to the right stretch of my limits. And I always push myself too. Something would have to go seriously wrong for me to safeword, yet I was still quite worried. And I think Abel was concerned too. He'd be the one dishing it out. He'd feel reponsible if it went too far. Yet I had asked him to go through with it. There was a lot of trust involved, on both sides.
The actual scene was set in a reformatory. I was being admitted for stealing. Although already subdued at the thought of the punishment to come, Abel in punishment officer mode terrified and cowed me further. There was no fight in me, I just wanted to get through it, extras were inconceivable.
He explained that every girl admitted had to experience each of the 6 punishment implements, to be tried for their effectiveness. (Martinet, leather paddle, tawse, industrial school strap and two canes: one light and whippy, the other a dragon cane). The most effective would then be used for any future infractions of the rules. But of course serious misconduct was dealt with by the governor and his birch.
When he ordered me to strip I didn't fuss at all. (I do have some sense of self preservation in there somewhere). I was bent over the arm of a sofa and he administered each implement in turn. 5o of each.
Thankfully I didn't have to count the strokes, and the first three sets were delivered so fast I didn't have time to worry about large numbers. Although in some ways it was harder having to endure them so quickly, it was better than the agony of waiting between each.
The martinet stung and wrapped around my thighs but I stayed down for it, knowing worse was to come. The slipper paddle made my bottom tingle and burn. I yelped continuously, but I coped.
To be fair to Abel he wasn't using these as hard as he could have. But they still hurt, especially as they accumulated. When he started with the whippy cane, I was dancing around a lot more but mostly held my position. I was trying to count the strokes in my head but this was proving difficult.
So difficult that I got very lost and when he finished with that cane I was confused. I thought he'd only giving me 30. Now readers I'm sure you'll agree what I did next was very stupid. I asked was he sure I got 50. He threatened to give me 20 more just to make sure. But I didn't want that either. I just needed to make sure that I got 50 from each, 300 overall. I'm anal like that. I had to semi come out of the scene to explain this but Abel was understanding and it didn't upset the momentum.
So he spared me the extra 20 but the next 3 implements were notably harder. I found the tawse particularly difficult, moving out of position often and crying out as the 5 tails wrapped around my crease and thighs. The strap felt like a relief in comparison. It hurt a lot but was solid and didn't wrap. I was very good for that 50, staying mostly still but I couldn't stop my cries of pain.
By the time we got to the dragon cane I was feeling more confident. Sure I was in agony already but the finish line was in sight. The first 30 were hard and fast. Breathing wasn't easy. It's so difficult to process when they land that quickly. I danced on the spot and clutched the sofa beneath me.
But then the next 20 were infinitely worse. Each was agonisingly hard, slower and more spaced out. He really made them count now that he knew that I could finish. After some of these strokes I was on the ground and it was hard to get back into position. The waiting for the last one was the worst. I knew it would be hard. And it was. I crumpled up on the floor clutching my bottom. But I was done.
I had survived 300 strokes of 6 different implements. Strangely I didn't feel the huge endorphin rush I usually do or even the emotional release of ending such an intense scene. Maybe I had played beyond all that or maybe the premise of the scene over-rode it.
All I felt was a huge sense of relief.
10 comments:
I was wincing the whole way through this with you. Well, wincing isn't putting it strong enough, I was nearly in tears. You brave, insane woman. Well done for even attempting to stay down. I'm impressed. Here's a question - do you prefer fast strokes or slow strokes?
EmmaJane, indeed bravely done.
May I venture to think that you won't do that again in a hurry.
I agree, subby types can seem cruel, I believe that they are mentally pushing themselves.
Once again, well done.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
Impressive, EJ - way to go! And you're absolutely right; subs make the worst sadists : )
Oh, ouch. All that for no endorphin rush? I do hope all those who left three or more comments are feeling ashamed of themselves. ;-)
I have to say I'm terribly confused with my own feelings after reading it.
First I have a lot of sympathy towards you, and do feel guilty about leaving 8(!) comments. But at the same time I know that you are happy and proud of yourself for doing it, so I'm also happy for you.
Second, I find it bloody exciting the whole I asked for it so I will do it thing.
Third, as much as I'm not into long beatings I feel so utterly envious.
And the "The waiting for the last one was the worst. I knew it would be hard. And it was. I crumpled up on the floor clutching my bottom." just makes me squitm SO much...
@Indy Oh yes, feeling definitely ashamed. In fact might even try suggesting to EJ that it really hurt me more than it hurt her, but I don't think she'd buy it.
Aww thanks for the sympathy!
To be fair I should clarify I did actually enjoy it. As Kami says I was proud and felt a sense of achievement. Although feeling achievement at taking 300 strokes is perhaps not something to proud of at all but that's another post.
Anyway when I say there was no endorphon rush I meant I wasnt hyper as normal, not buzzing, not wanting to play again immediately.
Instead I was blissfully spaced out. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and be cuddled and that's what I got and that was perfect.
And in a matter of hours we were playing again, but that's another story ;-)
Gosh you crazy brave girl - am glad you got your cuddles afterwards :) Hot pics by the way :)
Amazing really. Maybe we should all feel a slight tinge of guilt here. Atmleast the de-lurkers who have gone back to lurking again.
For the record, I do prefer primes.
Oh EmmaJane, how guilty I feel (not)! To think that I ganged up with these horrible people (not) to inflict such pain on an innocent young woman who had never done me any harm! There is only one thing to be done.
At an early date, the lady governor of the prison where I am serving my time will learn that I helped to organise a terrible initiation ceremony for a new prisoner. 6 x 50 strokes - it is almost unbelievable. She will be gravely displeased, and decide to take suitably severe disciplinary action.
Will she give me the same as you - 300 strokes? That will be up to her. Perhaps she will decide that my pitiful male buttocks fall as far short of yours in resiliance as they undoubtedly do in beauty. Or perhaps she will feel that the presumption involved in trying to imitate your performance is almost a more serious offence than the original one, and can be punished only with the full 6 x 50!
I will let you know.
Two things are certain, however:
As I lie strapped firmly down over her spanking bench, my bare buttocks trembling with fear as she reaches for the first implement, it will be too late for me to do anything about it, one way or the other!
And the other is that as the strokes increase and my white bottom turns pink, then a deep red, I shall be too aware of my own pain to think about what I let you in for!
Ernest
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