Snow Day Flogging -- It Happened

It was a long, long day of waiting and trying not to fuss, and by late this afternoon I was ready to declare that there was no Santa Claus. 

He had lots to do today... lots of serious work-related business to tend to.  I took off in the middle of the day to go run some errands and gather more odds and ends out of Grandpa's apartment.  I got home, and we had some lunch and He headed to the bank -- more serious business to take care of. 

I'd gotten pretty convinced that the promised flogging just wasn't going to happen, and then it was 4:30 PM and He was there asking if I still wanted to get flogged -- or did I want to take a nap instead?  Are You kidding me?  Sir?  I was feeling sleepy, but the whole reason I was so sleepy was that I stayed up all night thinking about getting flogged.  So.  No.  Thanks.  No nap for me.  Sir.

So, I cleared off all the accumulated junk that seems to pile up on the top of the flogging frame when it is in its coffee table disguise.  Honestly, that 4' x 8" surface just seems to attract junk of all sorts.  We worked together and got it all set up -- noting along the way that He is now officially cleared of all post-surgical restrictions (like lifting heavy stuff) as of yesterday. 

It was amazing!  Amazing!  He started with my beloved floggers, and spent some really nice time with the buffalo floggers, landing heavily on my ass and my back -- knocking the wind out of me with every crashing blow.  He worked me over with a whole range of quirts.  Somewhere in the middle there was time spent with the kangaroo-hide cat and the dressage whip.  I know there was a paddle toward the end, but I'm not sure which one.  He finished up with a pretty intense caning. 

I got sort of loopy toward the end, finding that if I opened my eyes, the room seemed to spin slowly but crazily. I remember telling Him that I was afraid I was going to fall. That made Him laugh.



And then -- a few awful moments of disbelief as He went to get the signal whip, and did not find it in its usual place...  I was not feeling very coherent, but was in a near panic trying to think where I might have stuck that darned whip.  Finally, He spotted it where it had apparently fallen off the hook and slid behind the door where we usually hang it.  I was relieved but also shaken.  When the third or fourth whip strike landed square across the small of my back I lost it and came completely apart...  That ended it for us for the day.

He took some pictures at the end, and although I look very post-session sad-eyed, it was really very good for me... that face seems to be the common "after a beating" look for me these days.

swan