All my sessions as a submissive contain at least some element of Corporal Punishment (CP) and it is frequently the culmination, the “main event,” of the scene we play out. However, only rarely do I have a session made up exclusively of this one kink.
Last week I had intended to participate in Miss Hunter’s pre-Christmas Slayers party (three Mistresses and half a dozen men in a dungeon for beatings and mince pies; what’s not to like?). My first Slayers session had been amazing but this time I mismanaged the arrangements for a lunch meeting so it overlapped and Miss Hunter kindly agreed to see me at the Slayers venue for an hour of late morning CP.
Before the session I wasn’t sure there was going to be a blog post in it. She was going to hit me with various implements and then I was going to leave. While I would be naked, she would be fully clothed, physical contact limited to the occasional rub or squeeze of my bruised backside. It was going to meet a very particular need in me but it was unlikely to interest other people. It was, after all, “only” going to be CP.
But it wasn’t “only” CP at all.
It wasn’t “only” CP when the very first thing she did was tawse my hands. This was a brutal way to start a session, but it was also perfect because of the intensity of the unspoken exchange between us as she stood in front of me, lifting the split leather strap high over her shoulder only to bring it down softly, daring me to lose her gaze or move my hand. The intense connection established between punisher and punished in that moment lasted the whole session.
It wasn’t “only” CP when, after a heavy strapping on my backside, she stroked her hand over the heat then let it linger there, waiting for my breathing to slow. In this session the smallest touch is amplified, becomes more sensual, more personal, more laden with meaning and intimacy.
It wasn’t “only” CP when she picked up a heavy wooden paddle and locked eyes with me for a few moments. We both knew this was going to hurt but we both wanted it to. Her level gaze issued a challenge, mine accepted it. For me, the moment was erotically charged, coruscatingly hot, and deeply sexual in a way someone less masochistic might find hard to understand.
At the end, she stood behind me with a long cane, a serious implement, and I could see her in a full length mirror. I watched her practise the stroke, saw the turn of her lithe body, marvelled at her control of it and I sensed the intensity of her focus. That wasn’t “only” CP either.
As the session progressed I could feel all my stress and tension leak away, expelled by the intensity of the sensations flowing through me and the concentration required to overcome them; expelled too by the deep connection I felt with Miss Hunter.
I slipped deeper and deeper into a calm subspace that had its own rhythms of anticipation, pain and release.
I was immobile over a punishment bench, a renowned (notorious even) Corporal Punishment expert standing behind me with a harsh cane, and yet I felt totally in control; in control of the pain and my reactions to it; in control of my body and my emotions. After weeks of stress and distraction it was a wonderful feeling. I distinctly remember letting out a low moan after a particularly harsh blow, not because I couldn’t handle the pain silently but because I wanted to communicate the intensity of my pleasure to the person causing it. One might do the same thing during sex.
I felt so calm, so accepting, my whole body, my mind too, perfectly balanced between pain and pleasure. I didn’t want it to end.
So: No. It wasn’t “only” CP.
And, for me at least, it never is.
More Wednesday wickedness here: