|Beth's bottom, Sunday afternoon.|
Saturday night I played with Beth again. We had a great scene, but there were a a couple of strange events that bookended the evening.
It all started off late afternoon Saturday when I got a text from Beth telling me she'd forgotten her dress for the Lair and she was calling off the evening. For the next hour or so I tried talking her off the ledge. She was very upset, wanting everything in our scene to be perfect. I finally just went with, "I'm on my way," not sure if she'd want to play. I thought, at the very least, we'd go to dinner and talk and perhaps I could help her feel better. I met her at her lodgings, a new boutique hotel in Studio City, and she was stressed, upset and quiet, but she looked great in leggings, heels and a gauzy gold blouse.
We went to dinner, which is something we found after playing the first few times, is incredibly important. We don't have an opportunity to see each other before we play, so that dinner time allows us to talk about the scene, see where our heads are, reconnect--rather than just jump into play which would be fun but could be a bit superficial.
At dinner, Beth was still out of sorts. Conversation was stilted. Finally I said, "Look, if you're not in the right headspace we aren't going to play. I don't want this to end up a mess. Scenes that start out in the wrong headspace can end up a mess." Eventually we agreed to go to the Lair, but I was guarded.
At the Lair we found our usual room mostly unoccupied (the guy who wears a fishnet body suit with little flashing lights on his wiener [!] was there) and I began to set up. Beth seemed to be relaxing on one hand but, as always, was getting anxious about the play on the other. I gave her a big hug, held her for a moment and double-checked. Should we continue? She wanted to.
Rather than start with the usual OTK I bent her over the padded bench we use and began hand spanking her to warm her up. She seemed to start complaining early, probably because of the place she'd been in most of the afternoon.
Beth has five play modes:
- begging & pleading
I stood Beth up, jumped up on the table and brought her across my lap. I used my reformatory paddle on her, a long, thick strip of holed leather to get good coverage across her bum. Soon her leggings were off and she was kicking, as she's wont to do when she's in her fighting mode and I was slapping the back her legs as I'm wont to do when she's kicking.
I returned her to being bent over the bench and brought out my dragon's tail, which has this super loud and satisfying crack! that reverberates through the small room we play in. That crack really gets my sadistic motor running. I moved on to straps, paddles, my antique razor strop, then brought out something new for Beth: my devil's tail (see pic), a nasty whip-like implement with an articulated arrow of leather at the end. I learned later that Beth really liked this painful thing that snapped at her backside. I pulled out my leather biker glove and my thuddy work glove and smacked her more.
The scene was progressing nicely, so I moved her to lying face down on the bench, pulling out a suede flogger. I have to say, I really flogged the living hell out of Beth's back and she moaned and made her sexy animal sounds throughout. I wanted to do more flogging and had planned to switch to a stiffer leather flogger, but another couple had come into the room and set up at the adjacent St. Andrews Cross, so I was limited on space.
I moved onto sensation play, using fur, claws and a wartenberg wheel. Beth has a love/hate relationship with many implements, but the vampire gloves and my two knives really get her. She squeals, moans, groans and generally sounds like she dislikes everything I'm doing to her. But she loves it.
I moved on to canes, starting with a 1/2" thick thuddy red fiberglass number and moving onto a full-body wood caning, followed by my diabolical carbon fibre ultra-thin cane. Knowing Beth wanted me to push her, I opted to use that cane on the back of her legs, really delivering a set of rather excruciating blows in a line across both, from her bottom to just above the knee. She was barely able to absorb it. (I'm not saying this boastfully, merely communicating as it went with her own observations of the scene thrown in.) Almost immediately, welts on the back of each leg appeared (mostly on her right leg as I was on the left of her, try as I might have at the time to keep the blows even).
"You said you didn't want the leather paddle, Beth," I whispered to her in the darkened room off the kitchen of the dungeon. She begged for me not to use it.
"I hate that thing!" she replied with a nervous laugh.
"Okay then, you get to pick." Then I held out three implements: the dreaded thick leather paddle she hated, a 14" aluminum paddle with 1/2" diameter holes in it and a 36" long industrial kitchen wooden rice paddle that Caroline had given me as a joke gift from Shadow Lane last year. I knew the rice paddle would have the appropriate shock and awe, and it did.
"Oh my God! What's that???" She looked them over and eventually reluctantly chose the rice paddle!
Based on prior "infractions" over the previous six weeks she had earned a total of six swats, and I moved into this deviant "finale" with a strong start. WHACK! Beth literally jumped up, getting actual air between her body and the padded table! She was on all fours in a heartbeat, begging me to stop. (In the blog posting from our last session ["You're my Bitch!"] I mentioned how Beth has invented this new stalling technique, these delightful little "breaks" in the scene--sort of pain intermissions--in which she gets on her knees on the table, wraps her arms around my neck and hangs on for dear life. This was one of those moments.) I had to yell at her to get her fucking body back down into the table to complete the five more she had earned. It took some talking (more like swearing, yelling and demanding), but eventually she complied.
The next two swats went light--I didn't want to have her run from the room! But the last was hard again. "How many was that?"
"Five," she said firmly, her voice certain. "Um...six?" Wishful thinking.
"You're not sure?" I asked.
"Five." I could hear uncertainty in her voice and watched as she screwed up her courage for the final blow.
"Actually, it was six. You're done." And her whole body went slack.
Part II will be up on the blog in a few days. Believe it or not, things have only started to get interesting!