My arse is quite large – and I like it that way.
But you’d think having more space to spank, flog, cane and otherwise abuse would lead to a wider use of it – but no, I get hit over and over in the same damn places. I’m sitting rather gingerly today – although not as gingerly as yesterday, when Apollo (to his great amusement) took the photo for me. According to his practised eye, my bruising is more colourful this morning, but it’s a good deal more comfortable to live with!
Saturday night was Play Party night. The last few months have been concentrating on tying me up (allowing a relative newcomer to the rope scene, Typhon, to practice his handiwork). This month, Typhon once again tied me up – or down, as the case may be.
He began by sitting me down on the play bench, and roping my torso with lovely red rope. (There will be photos later – I asked for a few to be taken, as it looked so damn pretty.) Once that was completed, he got me to lie down on my front, and he roped my wrists behind me, and then my ankles. During this, I was at eye-height as a Domme whipped her slave on the kneeling bench, and the spaced repetition of ‘Thank you Mistress, thank you Mistress’ each time a blow landed was quite soothing.
Lying on my front without being able to use my elbows as support meant that my breasts, bound, were taking a lot of weight – it felt like I was leaning on very full balloons as they rounded out beneath me. It was quite a pleasant feeling, for the most part, as I was in the part of my cycle where they were heavier and more gravid that normal.
Once Typhon had roped my wrists and ankles behind me, he pulled out a long piece of rounded wood from his bag (seeing it later, it looked like a bed leg, about a metre long and 10cm diameter, polished smooth. The ends were rounded, and there were two circles scored around either end, making them look like doorknobs). Pulling my ankles as far apart as the rope would allow, he pushed the wood between my legs until it pressed up against my pubic bone, then tied my ankles to one end of the wood, and my wrists to the other. This had the effect of pulling me up off my breasts and placing my weight on my lower torso.
And once I was totally bound, he began to beat me. He began with a cane, something I’d not had the experience of before, and I quickly decided I didn’t like! He smacked me across the lower buttocks with them, just below where my hands were tied. With every blow, I would jerk, which cantilevered the wood – if my legs went down, the wood pressed harder. If my front went down, the wood pressed harder. For the really hard blows, the end of the wood would thunk into the table as well.
Interspersed with the cane, Typhon also used a rattan flogger, which stung like bejeezus, especially with the sticks spread out. He’d also tickle me with them, which began the laughter …
Here’s the thing. I love to laugh – and if I’m not laughing during sex, then something’s not right. But for me to laugh during a scene can be absolutely fatal if I’m with a Dominant who doesn’t realise that I can’t help it, and not actually laughing at them. When Typhon tickled me with the rattan and I laughed, I managed to explain to him why I was laughing, and thankfully he understood.
Unfortunately for me, he saw it as an opportunity.
In short order, my peals of helpless laughter having drawn a crowd, I was surrounded by mean, nasty Doms and the occasional permitted Sub, all of whom had implements of tickling doom at their disposal. And they tickled my buttocks, my hands, my feet, my ears and nose and upper lip and breasts. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, unable to help myself. And as my eyes streamed and my breath hitched and my body writhed, they just kept tickling.
Eventually, the tickling stopped. I watched them carry away the kitchen implements, indoor brooms, dusters, and feathers. And the beating resumed.
A while later, Typhon untied me and got me to sit up, where he re-tied me into a ball (or as much of a ball as I could go), before lying me on my back, my legs pulled into the air by the rope. Punishing my breasts and nipples, I was extremely uncomfortable, and close to my limits. He then said he was going to try something new. He placed two (damn heavy) clamps on my nipples – which was unpleasant, but not unbearable. Then he flicked a switch.
My ‘Ow, FUCK!!!’ could be heard for quite a distance, I was told later. As it was, I strained for the ceiling as my body spasmed, and I safeworded immediately. It was the lowest point of the night, and, unfortunately, destroyed any desire I had to play with Typhon further. (And I do not wish to play with him again – communication is essential, and this should have been communicated well in advance.) What he had done was to electrocute me, with a home-made device created from an old party-line. What it did to me was set off my migraine, because the voltage was so high (as opposed to my acupuncture electric, which is through needles on my legs, at about 1/20th the strength).
So I got him to untie me, I sat with my head down by my legs for a while, and I scrambled out of the play room and back to the main house. And recovered.
Unfortunately, that was it as far as it went for me playing for the night. But I had some great bruises to show Apollo when I got home.