This blog contains, but isn't limited to, graphic sexual horror, BDSM, sex, robots, science, food, rock climbing, bouldering, politics and general bric-a-brac. Not suitable for children under 18. Honestly, probably not suitable for most humans.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Recap, where are all the updates?

I guess the biggest update is that...I got engaged! It happened fairly recently, about 2 weeks ago, and a part of me is still not quite sure what happened.  The video to said engagement is posted on my fetlife page (which means, dear viewer, that, yes, it was kind of kinky.)  If I weren't so lazy, I'd upload it here as well, but...I'm mighty lazy.  and also, I really hate the way my voice sounds recorded.

Other than that, the major news is that I was flogged for the first time.  I know that probably seems like a silly sentence; how could someone who seems to be so deep into the BDSM community not have tried flogging before?

Ok, slight edit: It's not that I haven't been flogged before.  In my early baby days of crawling through the plethora of BDSM goodies, I had been flogged a couple of times rather poorly by an unskilled Domly-Doms.  My lack of know-how in negotiating--and trust me when I say almost no one knows how to negotiate when they first start playing publicly-- and research had landed me into thinking that flogging was really...not that interesting.  Wasn't quite stingy.  Wasn't quite thuddy.  Why couldn't it make up its mind?  and the actions done by said Domly-Doms were anything but sexy.  I quietly crammed the notion of being flogged into a small tiny ball and shoved it into the darkest parts of my brain, quickly forgetting about it while I fell in love with being single-tailed and caned.  and those notions pretty much stayed dormant until Fetfest.

That's when we watched Prophet pull out his beautiful handcrafted floggers and show off.

You're probably asking yourself who Prophet is because I haven't ever mentioned him before.  Before I go on, I have to admit, I nicknamed him Chocolate Thunder one day because I couldn't remember his name and felt that it would be the most accurate way to describe him.  He's adopted it and now pretty much everyone in our chosen family has started calling him C. Thundah. to describe him...let's just say he follows the Brad Pitt Fight Club exercise regime and he follows it well.

Before we started, we did the typical negotiations:

"Hard limits?"
"No sexual stuff.  Don't break my bones.  Don't send me to the hospital."
"Sure, no problem.  Anything else?
"Oh, yeah, I don't like pain."

He gave me a funny look when I said that; I guessed he had never flogged someone who didn't see themselves as a bonefide pain slut and perhaps he wasn't sure what to do.  He finally decided to start off slow and work our way up until I tapped out.

It didn't seem to have lasted long, but I went through my typical cycle of reactions when dealing with pain: a lot of laughter, tears, rinse repeat.  I'm not sure if that scared Prophet or his partner, who was sitting with Daddy.  She looked quite concerned and I could hear her ask, "Is she alright?  She's laughing...and crying."  Daddy shrugged and said that I knew what to say if I wanted to stop.

It was surprisingly painful.  As I stood there taking the beating, it occurred to me that I not only had never been flogged by anyone remotely close to skilled, but that Prophet was extremely extremely amazing with his craft.  Prophet was able to switch between thuds and stings with little to no effort.  By the end of it, he was winding up and swinging at me the way a baseball player would.  Or at least that's what I'm told.

Later that night, Daddy told me that Prophet was fairly impressed, "For someone who doesn't like pain, she can take quite a flogging."

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