Early in the life of my blog I posted about how it felt to be shown my blood on the Mistresses cane for the first time; the conflicted emotions of pride and concern triggered by the sight of it.
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 booked into a hotel room, lay on the bed and waited for an unknown Mistress. My earlier Sinful Sunday post described the unnatural stillness of the moments before and after the beating she gave me. As happens sometimes, it’s taken me a while for me to rationalise my responses to the session itself.
It wasn’t actually in the dark or there wouldn’t be a picture, but I was waiting with a blindfold on, waiting for the mystery Mistress. No name, no email, no website address. No communication of any kind. All I knew was that Mistress Elita, who had kindly set this up for me, had given her the… Read More »
Many of my real fantasies, the ones I find in my head when I’m disturbed or stressed, are dark and non-consensual punishment scenes. Sometimes I’m the perpetrator and sometimes I’m the one being punished but the consistent components are an unwilling, tightly bound victim, and the authority figure handing out corporal punishment of escalating violence.… Read More »
At the end of our hot judicial caning scene we played around taking pictures. Elita said she wanted to try a slow motion video. Elita and her man, who had been doing the caning, fiddled with the camera for a while getting it set up. Then they lined up the shot.
The crease at the bottom of the buttocks, just where it joins the top of the thighs, is an area of very soft and super-sensitive skin. He knows this, Elita’s man. He taps the cane insistently on the exact spot he intends to hit, right on that crease.
There’s a place I go when I’m beaten, a place deep inside myself, a refuge. There’s a sense of quite deliberately diving down to it early in the session. I allow my sense of where I am and who I am with to diminish, focussing only on the waves of sensation, becoming utterly absorbed in… Read More »
It’s a ritual I go through. Not before every session; only those where I know I’m going to be really tested. This one for instance. I’m definitely going through my ritual of preparation for this session. It’s going to be judicial caning, taken with no warm up, delivered by a man.
I hope my head will be in the right place for this next session. It certainly bloody needs to be. How I come out of a session very much depends on how I go into it; the experience can be cathartic and life affirming if I start from the right place, or negative and self-harming if I… Read More »
A visitor once described London as a great party you’re not invited to, full of secret, niche things down side-alleys that you’d never know about if you didn’t know someone who knows someone. On Thursday, for example, shoppers at a busy street market were walking backwards and forwards over a glass pavement, under which this… Read More »
Caning is all about the cane. The sensations of a thick, stiff cane are quite different from those of a thin, flexible one. As are the after effects.