Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Spanked to Tears
Beforehand, I had told Z that if I cried it was definitely not a sign that he needed to stop the scene. I wanted to cry. I needed that release. And simply talking about it , I almost felt like bursting into tears right then. Not because of him or even anything in my current everyday life but an emotional hurt inside me.
He tied me to the rack with my back to him and my arms outstretched above me and began simply spanking my ass. It started out light of course, as he warmed me up but soon got heavier. My whines and moans began pretty quickly. It's an odd sound I make...not a scream...it's more like a moan...and when something hurts even more, it starts out sounding like a moan and turns into a high pitched whine.
I had worn a thong that that night, baring my ass more than I have in the past and yet I found even still, I was much more closer to screaming when he hit the tops of my thighs than anything else.
At some point in the scene, I began mentally using what I call my "crying words". Things I know I can tell myself that aren't necessarily true that will either make me cry or make me cry harder because they really emotionally hurt.
Examples: "My parents don't love me", "I'm sorry I failed you, Mom and Dad", "I broke the family apart", "I let you down", "I failed you", "I deserve this for what I did", "Mom's health is failing because of me", and lots more. In a way, it was less about words and more about feelings of hurt and guilt.
At one point my mind was back to when I was a kid and my dad used to spank us when we had done something wrong. He'd look us in the eye and ask us why we were getting spanked and we'd have to re-iterate what we'd done wrong, between tears of anticipation. Then he'd have us pull our pants down and bend over his knee and he'd spank us with his bare hand. Hard, fast, strong. We'd wiggle and squirm and cry but there was no getting away. I always remembered afterward, feeling relieved that it was over and knowing I would try my best to never do whatever it was I had done...again.
With all of this happening in my head, tears came to my eyes. My moans and whines were mixed with small quiet sobs. At one point, Z stopped and realized he'd really done some damage to my left cheek. He asked me how I was doing and whether I wanted to continue and I told him he should probably even it out and make the other cheek match lol.
More sobbing, whining, moaning. By the time he stopped again, I was definitely feeling a sense of release. I think I really wanted to cuddle at that point but it was early and I didn't want to be done yet. So when he asked how I was doing, I said I had learned my lesson but maybe he could hogtie me and tickle me. Some much lighter play was definitely in order.
Tying, smiling, tickling, laughing, giggling, squirming, screaming, bunny hopping, shrieking all commenced in the usual fashion that my tickling scenes seem to happen nowadays and another hour went by. When it was over, I was pooped. Z untied me and we cuddled for a while and then it was time to get dressed, help him ravel up rope, and clean up. I visited with some of the other folk there and one of my friends made smirking comments like "Wow you need a ball gag" and "Sounded like he was playing with a monkey!". I just smiled and blushed.
After visiting for a little bit, I decided I was ok to drive and needed to get home to my bed. Not without staring at my ass in the mirror, mouth agape. I think that's the heaviest marks I've ever had and it was just his hand this time.
All-in-all, it was a good experience. It's the first time I processed pain that way before. I've had things in my life that were painful physically and they triggered an emotional response like that before...but they were always unexpected. This was more planned. I don't think it's the way I will always approach an impact scene though. There may come a point where the impact is much faster and painful and crying words wont necessarily be needed. I just don't know if I can really take that kind of pain yet.