Why I Hate Bob Deegan

A very long time ago, before I was even a glimmer on the horizon, He met a woman with many, many years of experience in the lifestyle as a Dominant. He was newly liberated from His marriage at the time and into what He views as a fairly prolific and random spanking phase of His life. She took Him under her wing, evaluating Him as somewhat more enthusiastic than skilled, and endeavored to give Him some technical training with a variety of implements. He tells how His first outing with a flogger resulted in the demolition of a nearby lightbulb in a table lamp. One of the assignments He was given was to practice turning light switches on and off with the flogger until He could reliably do the "lights on -- lights off" thing. T reports that, when she first met Him, all the walls around all the light switches were routinely black with flogger marks...

I owe that long ago Lady Dominant a huge debt. I can attest that He CAN hit my ass with a flogger. Every time. Without fail.

Along the line, He and we've attended dozens of workshops and listened to I can't even begin to count how many lectures about how to do this and that. It is good to learn about how to do WIITWD from people with experience. I've spent a fair amount of time in dungeons and watched people work with singletails, practicing moving bits of facial tissue across the floor and using ink to make patterns on paper and all manner of other techniques to learn how to do it.

But Himself learned the basic use of the singletail from Bob Deegan. The good news is that watching Deegan use the single tail is like watching some kind of hybrid between a beautiful ballet and intense martial arts. He is awesome to see work. The bad news is that Deegan is of the opinion that, since people do not typically take pillows to dungeons, they shouldn't be practicing their singletail technique on pillows either. Gahhhhh!

What that means, in practical terms, is that every blessed stroke of the whip, for good or bad is aimed at my hide -- and every single stroke lands where it will.

I am not brave about the singletail. It scares the living daylights out of me. Sometimes, I can be fascinated by it, in that nutty way that is the wired part of being masochistic, but even that is still deeply tinged with real fear. I want to be "good" about sessions with the whip. I want to stay where He puts me, and I want to behave in the way I know He expects of me.

It is terribly difficult. The "Deegan" dictate means that there is no way for me to have any sense of what is coming. I can't predict which strokes will fall where. I can't predict the intensity. I can't predict the rhythm. Every second of the encounter is a pure challenge both physically and emotionally. By the time we're 15 or 20 or 3o strokes in, I'm panicked, begging, hysterical, hanging on by shear will -- or not hanging on at all -- just begging, pleading, anything to be allowed the rescue that I cannot obtain except by His mercy.

Sunday was like that. We'd started with a "warmup," that I knew was leading toward the whip. I'd tried to "prepare" if that's possible to do. I'd gotten myself into position, holding onto "the fluffy" and thinking that I was in a pretty good place. But then the whip strokes began falling all over the place -- backs of my calves and soles of my feet and middle of my back. Randomness is harder, in my experience, than the things you can predict, and this was just wildly random. It didn't take long for me to hit the point of wild begging: "please, please let me go... please, please, please!"

I think it didn't go on too much longer, actually. Not nearly as long as it might have. He was kind.

We'll do it again. Soon. We talked. About what was so hard. About the need to practice. About how much I'd like to run over Bob Deegan with my car... About what I'd been fantasizing about when I woke up on Sunday morning -- which was not getting whipped on my feet (LOL). He said that perhaps, for the sake of practice, He might have me wear my leathers and that would protect most of me. Then it would be like a target that would only "light up" if you hit it. So maybe Deegan will survive.

swan