Okay, by now it's clear to everyone that I am a lousy blogger, I and totally not the "once a day" type about this or anything (I've often thought that being the once-a-day type would make my life a lot easier...). But I've also decided not to be too hard on myself, that's just how I am, and now I will dive back in and try to get back into it... I have tried to sit down and write at different times lately and basically came away with nothing, or very little.
One problem is that I always want to write so much, and don't just dash something off and post it, when I probably should...
The second problem is that I always want to wander off into some deep meaning out of every experience, while I know anyone reading this would be happy just to hear a recounting of what's going on... so I'm trying for some balance here – I promise I'll at least get one story told, within the musings...
Today's musing – having been to two amazing parties in two weekends leaves me way too much to choose from – is a rather guarded foray into uncomfortable territory. Actually, what it is about is "uncomfortable territory." I suspect very many people in the scene experience this – they read, see, or hear something that evokes a physical reaction – okay, turns them on, usually enormously – while the civilized part of their brain is saying "I shouldn't be feeling this, I shouldn't be liking this." Assuming that most everyone knows what I mean, I am certainly not going to cite all the examples that have happened to me over a long and happy life, but let's just say that it tends to be something too severe or too explicit or mixed with elements I'd rather not even read about. Yes, for me, it's almost always reading. I've never been much of a watcher – I don't watch videos and seldom watch others play, though at times scenes in mainstream movies are a little surprisingly breathtaking.
That deeper subject is a pretty big leap from the scene I'm about to relate, the subject just came to mind while I was remembering it. As I said, I've been to two great parties (which I'll have to report on). A lot of times party play is a lot different from relationship play or arranged-meeting play and these parties really underscored this fact. With the exception of one woman, I had no scenes arranged, had not promised to correct any behavior, had no pre-discussed D/s plans. And the parties played out the same way – we'd be hanging out with friends, it would be convenient (at last!) to play, and we'd do so – sometimes moving off to our suite, more often not. My partners, facing multiple opportunities to play, almost exclusively wanted to be spanked by hand which, despite the fact that I have an arsenal to attract UN weapons inspectors, I really enjoy. Now, I know some (okay, most) of these women enjoy scenarios, role-play and actual discipline and sometimes more, but that wasn't what this was about this time around.
One of the women, however – a stunning young lady – professed an absence of interest in punishment scenes altogether – maybe more of a submissive type approach, where play is not dictated by real or imagined behavior. This is something I'm trying to get a better handle on lately because I'd like to play more with submissive women. At one point I had her over my lap in a suite party, moderately spanking the amazing hills of her lovely bottom, and someone asked what she had done.
"Some girls are spanked because they're naughty," I explained, "And some are naughty because they are spanked." Later she heartily agreed with this assessment.
The combined effect of this string of comfortable, straightforward scenes sort of left me with the impression that I was really more comfortable with this friendly, non-critical type of play. While I am always told that I scold effectively and can sound quite threatening with complete naturalness, I do always worry that the criticism, appropriate or exaggerated, can leave my partner feeling rejected or deficient rather than cared for.
We were anxious to see each other again and looked forward to the next weekend's party which we would both be attending. Once there someone lost no time in taking her aside and warming her thoroughly but this only fueled her desire. Soon she was standing next to my chair and, after the previous weekend's familiarity, I put my hand on the back of her knee and slid it upward under her flowing skirt, encountering the lovely curve of her bottom long before the waistband of her panties. I asked if I should bring anything and she said "Cat."
We had discussed this the previous weekend so I wasn't surprised; we'd tried to set something up but the timing can always be difficult and honestly it's not worth it to force it, it's better to wait. Now you have to keep in mind that while Cat's been there when I'm playing with some interested young lady, she hasn't actually played with anyone other than me in literally a year – though she is starting to develop an interest again. The situation wasn't really right at that moment, so the two of us went off alone.
Dispensing with the "you've been a naughty girl" and jumping straight to the "okay, young lady, you love this and you know it" I had her over my knee right away and the conventional phrase is that it didn't take long to get her well-spanked. And that might even be true, but I definitely spanked for a good long time while she had only lacy black cheek-baring panties for protection – or modesty, at least. Even so, that's never really the full experience, is it? So down they came, toward whatever end...
Now there are all kinds of great bottoms to spank – some are soft and white as a cloud, some are firm as an Olympic hurdler's. The first can sting my hand like the wickedest light strap and the later can resist with the thud of a frat paddle and of course there's a wide, wide spectrum in between. Her pale cheeks – she colors very little at all – were a pair of lovely cushions over a firm substructure.
Then she said "Spank me hard."
I want a woman to enjoy a spanking so typically I spank firmly, deliberately, making up in length what I don't provide in power – but this is a personal choice. If it's harder spanking she wants, it's harder spanking she shall get, and she did. Of course, in the moment it's a little hard to use any sense... and I mean either of us... but she soaked up everything I gave her, clearly enjoying it despite occasional "reservations," and her enjoyment built and waned as the spanking went on unabated. It's a little harder to pick a good place to stop when the scene is completely unmotivated – or, that is, unmotivated by behavior. And I'm sure it's hard for my partners, as well, having no idea why I chose that moment to stop – and they seldom ask me to go on, maybe figuring I'm tired? Maybe I should suggest a break and see if they want to start over...
Anyway, I eased to a stop and she'd apparently had enough for the moment... a hug and a kiss, resisted mauling her or consuming her whole (had to leave some for Cat...)
Basically impossible, though, no matter what your favorite headspace, to be at a spanking party without being taken to task for some wrong-doing... I'll let Cat describe the whole dice game that led up to it but the short story is our wild child found herself bent over the end of the couch while Cat wielded the "For the Little Dear with the Bare Behind" paddle. Meanwhile I'm sitting on the couch so her gorgeous curls, clenching fingers, and pleading mouth and eyes are practically in my lap... ten slow swats which seemed like very little relative to how I'd spanked her but clearly she felt it profoundly. She was clearly anxious for it to be over long before it was and was greatly relieved when she'd gotten to the end of her count.
Much as I like to see women enjoy themselves, I still found this tremendously exciting. The pseudo-non-consensual nature of it, the difficulty she had absorbing it, the inevitability of the count (no matter how short)...
Okay, I guess everyone in the scene got over being uncomfortable with enjoying punishment scenes a long time ago – just like I did. So long ago, in fact, that I found it very interesting to re-travel that long-forgotten road.
Now as for other "uncomfortable territory" – that'll have to wait for another post!
One problem is that I always want to write so much, and don't just dash something off and post it, when I probably should...
The second problem is that I always want to wander off into some deep meaning out of every experience, while I know anyone reading this would be happy just to hear a recounting of what's going on... so I'm trying for some balance here – I promise I'll at least get one story told, within the musings...
Today's musing – having been to two amazing parties in two weekends leaves me way too much to choose from – is a rather guarded foray into uncomfortable territory. Actually, what it is about is "uncomfortable territory." I suspect very many people in the scene experience this – they read, see, or hear something that evokes a physical reaction – okay, turns them on, usually enormously – while the civilized part of their brain is saying "I shouldn't be feeling this, I shouldn't be liking this." Assuming that most everyone knows what I mean, I am certainly not going to cite all the examples that have happened to me over a long and happy life, but let's just say that it tends to be something too severe or too explicit or mixed with elements I'd rather not even read about. Yes, for me, it's almost always reading. I've never been much of a watcher – I don't watch videos and seldom watch others play, though at times scenes in mainstream movies are a little surprisingly breathtaking.
That deeper subject is a pretty big leap from the scene I'm about to relate, the subject just came to mind while I was remembering it. As I said, I've been to two great parties (which I'll have to report on). A lot of times party play is a lot different from relationship play or arranged-meeting play and these parties really underscored this fact. With the exception of one woman, I had no scenes arranged, had not promised to correct any behavior, had no pre-discussed D/s plans. And the parties played out the same way – we'd be hanging out with friends, it would be convenient (at last!) to play, and we'd do so – sometimes moving off to our suite, more often not. My partners, facing multiple opportunities to play, almost exclusively wanted to be spanked by hand which, despite the fact that I have an arsenal to attract UN weapons inspectors, I really enjoy. Now, I know some (okay, most) of these women enjoy scenarios, role-play and actual discipline and sometimes more, but that wasn't what this was about this time around.
One of the women, however – a stunning young lady – professed an absence of interest in punishment scenes altogether – maybe more of a submissive type approach, where play is not dictated by real or imagined behavior. This is something I'm trying to get a better handle on lately because I'd like to play more with submissive women. At one point I had her over my lap in a suite party, moderately spanking the amazing hills of her lovely bottom, and someone asked what she had done.
"Some girls are spanked because they're naughty," I explained, "And some are naughty because they are spanked." Later she heartily agreed with this assessment.
The combined effect of this string of comfortable, straightforward scenes sort of left me with the impression that I was really more comfortable with this friendly, non-critical type of play. While I am always told that I scold effectively and can sound quite threatening with complete naturalness, I do always worry that the criticism, appropriate or exaggerated, can leave my partner feeling rejected or deficient rather than cared for.
We were anxious to see each other again and looked forward to the next weekend's party which we would both be attending. Once there someone lost no time in taking her aside and warming her thoroughly but this only fueled her desire. Soon she was standing next to my chair and, after the previous weekend's familiarity, I put my hand on the back of her knee and slid it upward under her flowing skirt, encountering the lovely curve of her bottom long before the waistband of her panties. I asked if I should bring anything and she said "Cat."
We had discussed this the previous weekend so I wasn't surprised; we'd tried to set something up but the timing can always be difficult and honestly it's not worth it to force it, it's better to wait. Now you have to keep in mind that while Cat's been there when I'm playing with some interested young lady, she hasn't actually played with anyone other than me in literally a year – though she is starting to develop an interest again. The situation wasn't really right at that moment, so the two of us went off alone.
Dispensing with the "you've been a naughty girl" and jumping straight to the "okay, young lady, you love this and you know it" I had her over my knee right away and the conventional phrase is that it didn't take long to get her well-spanked. And that might even be true, but I definitely spanked for a good long time while she had only lacy black cheek-baring panties for protection – or modesty, at least. Even so, that's never really the full experience, is it? So down they came, toward whatever end...
Now there are all kinds of great bottoms to spank – some are soft and white as a cloud, some are firm as an Olympic hurdler's. The first can sting my hand like the wickedest light strap and the later can resist with the thud of a frat paddle and of course there's a wide, wide spectrum in between. Her pale cheeks – she colors very little at all – were a pair of lovely cushions over a firm substructure.
Then she said "Spank me hard."
I want a woman to enjoy a spanking so typically I spank firmly, deliberately, making up in length what I don't provide in power – but this is a personal choice. If it's harder spanking she wants, it's harder spanking she shall get, and she did. Of course, in the moment it's a little hard to use any sense... and I mean either of us... but she soaked up everything I gave her, clearly enjoying it despite occasional "reservations," and her enjoyment built and waned as the spanking went on unabated. It's a little harder to pick a good place to stop when the scene is completely unmotivated – or, that is, unmotivated by behavior. And I'm sure it's hard for my partners, as well, having no idea why I chose that moment to stop – and they seldom ask me to go on, maybe figuring I'm tired? Maybe I should suggest a break and see if they want to start over...
Anyway, I eased to a stop and she'd apparently had enough for the moment... a hug and a kiss, resisted mauling her or consuming her whole (had to leave some for Cat...)
Basically impossible, though, no matter what your favorite headspace, to be at a spanking party without being taken to task for some wrong-doing... I'll let Cat describe the whole dice game that led up to it but the short story is our wild child found herself bent over the end of the couch while Cat wielded the "For the Little Dear with the Bare Behind" paddle. Meanwhile I'm sitting on the couch so her gorgeous curls, clenching fingers, and pleading mouth and eyes are practically in my lap... ten slow swats which seemed like very little relative to how I'd spanked her but clearly she felt it profoundly. She was clearly anxious for it to be over long before it was and was greatly relieved when she'd gotten to the end of her count.
Much as I like to see women enjoy themselves, I still found this tremendously exciting. The pseudo-non-consensual nature of it, the difficulty she had absorbing it, the inevitability of the count (no matter how short)...
Okay, I guess everyone in the scene got over being uncomfortable with enjoying punishment scenes a long time ago – just like I did. So long ago, in fact, that I found it very interesting to re-travel that long-forgotten road.
Now as for other "uncomfortable territory" – that'll have to wait for another post!
1 comment:
Interesting, Matt. My hubby and I just attended our first largish party last weekend.
I enjoy being spanked for the pure joy of it - we do not concoct disciplinary scenarios for it, much less indulge in the real thing.
I do like being overpowered, which rather hints at elements of non-consensuality. He doesn't expect me to hold position, not protest, etc. In fact, I think watching me squirm is a big part of the fun for him. Just as having him tighten his grip and/or secure my hand before he increases the intensity is pleasurable to me.
I'm really not sure whether being lectured or scolded would add to the experience, or detract from it. I rather suspect the latter, unless it was clearly not related to anything 'real'.
My own 'I shouldn't like this reservations' are milder than most, I think.
I rather enjoy the illusion of FEELING disciplined, as long as it's patently false. But I would hate being ACTUALLY disciplined, if that makes sense.
Being grabbed and spanked during a moment of playful banter is fun. But having him go on to say that I deserve it for (insert appropriate domestic failing) would quite possibly make him a blood donor. ;)
I don't think I could enjoy playing 'bad girl' with a casual spanking partner. It would make me feel vulnerable and judged, and not in a good way.
Perhaps that is unusual though - those that approached me often asked what kind of things I liked to be spanked 'for'. Modesty prevented me from saying ORGASMS. lol
I don't think that it follows that women who enjoy being spanked without a disciplinary framework (however improbable) are submissive. I'm actually quite dominant, in my own right.
Glad to see you posting again. I always enjoy your posts.
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