Eliane commented on my post yesterday asking whether I prefer hard or fast strokes. Having just experienced both in the less than 24 hours, it was timely for me to think about it and decide.
In a punishment with a finite number of strokes, like the 300, fast can be very good. Yes it hurts a lot and is impossible to process or breathe but it's over quickly. But in a scene where you don't know how many you're getting, fast strokes can be horrendous. All burn and no hope of when it's going to be over. Like the birching from HH, delivered so quickly and not knowing how many I was getting made it almost unbearable.
The other problem with fast strokes is the near certainty of a mishit. No matter how good the top is, it's hard to be 100% accurate, especially if the bottom is wriggling.
But mostly I dislike fast strokes cos I can't be brave. I can't hold my position and I certainly can't stop yelping and crying out. It takes control away from me completely and as with the other day, I end up in a heap on the floor. Dignified it is not. (So it's probably a more effective punishment!)
So I guess I prefer slow strokes more. Easier to deal with the pain and get into a rhythm and headspace. But of course slow strokes, particularly cane strokes, can be delivered much harder. And as I discovered the other day a fiendish top like Abel, likes to try (and succeeds) in placing every stroke on top of the other, making it excruciatingly painful. Not to mention the pausing in between allows each stroke to reach a crest of pain that just starts to ease off before the next reignites it.
Hmmm maybe I need to think about this again. Or conduct some more empirical research.
Tuesday, July 14
Monday, July 13
Ask and you shall receive
Having now had time to reflect on the weekend and the events leading up to my 300 strokes, courtesy of you readers, I realise that I've learned a lot since that post on Friday.
Here are some of the keys things:
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.
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.
Sunday, July 12
Oh the red strokes...
They say a picture paints a 1000 words, well the pictures below paint 300 strokes. A more detailed post will follow about what happened when I blithely promised to take 1 stroke of 6 particular implements for each comment I received on Friday's post.
For now I just wanted to put your minds at ease, dear readers, that your efforts were not in vain. Each and every thoughtful comment was acted upon. And to you dear selfless friends who gave up so many minutes of your day to comment again and again and again, I applaud you. Yes your 50 comments were noted and appreciated.
Abel gallantly acted upon them accordingly, with barely a murmur at having to administer all 300. Yet another selfless friend; I'm blessed to have so many.
We set the scene in a reformatory. A girl just being admitted and having to experience each of the punishment implements in turn, with the most effective being recorded and used for any misbehaviour during her stay.
After each implement Punishment Officer Jenkins wrote down how effective he thought it was and below is a transcription of that record and the corresponding picture:
And when it was all over and I'd been hugged and comforted and the redness had gone down, this was the blissful state I found myself in. Thank you dear, dear readers. I look forward to returning the favour some day soon. Real soon.
For now I just wanted to put your minds at ease, dear readers, that your efforts were not in vain. Each and every thoughtful comment was acted upon. And to you dear selfless friends who gave up so many minutes of your day to comment again and again and again, I applaud you. Yes your 50 comments were noted and appreciated.
Abel gallantly acted upon them accordingly, with barely a murmur at having to administer all 300. Yet another selfless friend; I'm blessed to have so many.
We set the scene in a reformatory. A girl just being admitted and having to experience each of the punishment implements in turn, with the most effective being recorded and used for any misbehaviour during her stay.
After each implement Punishment Officer Jenkins wrote down how effective he thought it was and below is a transcription of that record and the corresponding picture:
Martinet whip - Moderate
Leather paddle - Moderate
Light cane - Effective
Tawse - Very effective
Irish strap - Effective
Senior cane - Extremely Effective
Recommended: Senior Cane
And when it was all over and I'd been hugged and comforted and the redness had gone down, this was the blissful state I found myself in. Thank you dear, dear readers. I look forward to returning the favour some day soon. Real soon.
Saturday, July 11
Brats, bratting and bratlashing
Jessica has written some posts recently about different types of subs in scenes; brats in particular. It's a very intersting topic and she makes a good point about how brats can ruin group play for everyone else by monopolising a top's attention and never letting up on the bratting or letting anyone else get a look in.
It got me thinking though. Do the brats know that they're annoying? Am I such a brat? Would someone be kind/brave enough to tell me if I was?
It's often very hard to see yourself how other people see you. So how do these brats know that their behaviour is pissing everyone else off? They're having fun and the tops playing with them are having fun too. They don't necessarily stop to think that maybe the other subs/bottoms aren't actually having an equally good time.
I would hate to be thought of as an obnoxious brat, but I know I can be quite the brat at times. And I don't even have to try hard to be that way. It's my natural extroverted personality and it comes across as much in my vanilla life as in my kinky life. When on form I have boundless energy and I don't hold back on anything, nearly always saying whatever comes into my head or acting on sudden impluses. In any scene or situation this usually gives toppy types more than enough excuses to deal with me, should they so wish.
At the same time I hate the thought of making anyone feel uncomfortable and I consider myself very sensitive to other people's feelings. But what if I'm not really? Maybe I'm missing the glares and mutterings and the general 'get off the stage' vibe that's emanating from the rest of the group.
So when I hear other people commenting on how much they dislike brats or how annoying they are, my paranoia kicks in. I can't help but think that I'm exactly the type of person they are talking about.
I am always disgustingly eager to play. I don't have the luxury of playing when I want to, so really look forward to my play opportunities. And in the heat of playing, I'm not necessarily wondering about everyone else. Which yes, is quite selfish, but not at all intentional.
So maybe do the brat a favour and tell them where they are going wrong. Maybe they can learn to tone it down, or maybe they're just not suited to group play. But don't let them ruin everyone else's fun either.
It got me thinking though. Do the brats know that they're annoying? Am I such a brat? Would someone be kind/brave enough to tell me if I was?
It's often very hard to see yourself how other people see you. So how do these brats know that their behaviour is pissing everyone else off? They're having fun and the tops playing with them are having fun too. They don't necessarily stop to think that maybe the other subs/bottoms aren't actually having an equally good time.
I would hate to be thought of as an obnoxious brat, but I know I can be quite the brat at times. And I don't even have to try hard to be that way. It's my natural extroverted personality and it comes across as much in my vanilla life as in my kinky life. When on form I have boundless energy and I don't hold back on anything, nearly always saying whatever comes into my head or acting on sudden impluses. In any scene or situation this usually gives toppy types more than enough excuses to deal with me, should they so wish.
At the same time I hate the thought of making anyone feel uncomfortable and I consider myself very sensitive to other people's feelings. But what if I'm not really? Maybe I'm missing the glares and mutterings and the general 'get off the stage' vibe that's emanating from the rest of the group.
So when I hear other people commenting on how much they dislike brats or how annoying they are, my paranoia kicks in. I can't help but think that I'm exactly the type of person they are talking about.
I am always disgustingly eager to play. I don't have the luxury of playing when I want to, so really look forward to my play opportunities. And in the heat of playing, I'm not necessarily wondering about everyone else. Which yes, is quite selfish, but not at all intentional.
So maybe do the brat a favour and tell them where they are going wrong. Maybe they can learn to tone it down, or maybe they're just not suited to group play. But don't let them ruin everyone else's fun either.
Friday, July 10
Over to you!
As I posted yesterday, I have a playdate this weekend and my generous neighbour Mr T gave me 6 implements to play with. Abel suggested that I have to try each implement in turn and that you lovely readers should vote on how many strokes of each I should get.
Of course Eliane, ever helpful as usual, jumped in with 12 of each and then some. But people calling out random figures isn't going to be that useful.
So here's what we do. For every comment I get on this post I'll get one stroke of each implement. That works out at 2 cane strokes, 2 straps, a leather paddle and a leather martinet for each one.
I put this out there with the comfort of knowing that the most comments I've ever got on one post was 17 (and 3 of them were mine). So lurkers, please pick another day to de-lurk!
Of course Eliane, ever helpful as usual, jumped in with 12 of each and then some. But people calling out random figures isn't going to be that useful.
So here's what we do. For every comment I get on this post I'll get one stroke of each implement. That works out at 2 cane strokes, 2 straps, a leather paddle and a leather martinet for each one.
I put this out there with the comfort of knowing that the most comments I've ever got on one post was 17 (and 3 of them were mine). So lurkers, please pick another day to de-lurk!
Thursday, July 9
She who goeth a borrowing, goeth a sorrowing...
Good neighbours can usually be called on for a lend if you're stuck for something. You know like a cup of sugar, a drop of milk or, in my case, a cane or two.
Yes the wonderful advantage of having a lovely kinky neighbour is the opportunity to borrow from his extensive collection of implements if the need arises! Which works out very useful when another toppy type is flying in and doesn't want to drag his own extensive collection around with him.
And Mr T was very generous in sharing his implements. Actually a little too generous if you ask me. While visiting toppy type may appreciate it, my bottom may not. Really there was no need to give me all of the below:
I swear I haven't been that naughty. Honest! (Gulp)
Yes the wonderful advantage of having a lovely kinky neighbour is the opportunity to borrow from his extensive collection of implements if the need arises! Which works out very useful when another toppy type is flying in and doesn't want to drag his own extensive collection around with him.
And Mr T was very generous in sharing his implements. Actually a little too generous if you ask me. While visiting toppy type may appreciate it, my bottom may not. Really there was no need to give me all of the below:
A long leather strap (half an inch thick);
A 5 tailed Lochgelly tawse;
A slipper paddle;
A martinet;
A thin whippy cane...
...and a vicious dragon cane!
I swear I haven't been that naughty. Honest! (Gulp)
Wednesday, July 8
More justice for knickers!
Well it seems at least one top took heed of my Justice for Knickers campaign. In fact Abel is now so understanding about how precious girls are about their pretty knickers, that he's determined to return this lovely pair to their owner.
Of course I'm a little bit baffled as to how anybody could leave them behind in the first place; they're so yummy!
Nobody has claimed them yet, but in true girly style many of the commentators have admired them and Eliane even wants to go off and get a matching pair.
So if they're yours drop Abel a mail and reclaim them. I dare ya!
Of course I'm a little bit baffled as to how anybody could leave them behind in the first place; they're so yummy!
Nobody has claimed them yet, but in true girly style many of the commentators have admired them and Eliane even wants to go off and get a matching pair.
So if they're yours drop Abel a mail and reclaim them. I dare ya!
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