Spanking Bench -- Round 2

Sunday afternoon, after things settled down a bit, He and I found some time to play again with the new spanking bench.  It works.  The kneeler makes the geometry of the thing function as I imagine it is supposed to.  It isn't uncomfortable.  It is wide enough to comfortably support my shoulders, arms, and hips.  It is long enough that my head rests on the padded top and does not hang out in space.  We have a set of macrame restraints, made for us by a friend many years ago, and they work well to fasten me down to the thing.  The restraints make it impossible for me to take off in the middle of the session, and that increases the vulnerability level some, but it also gives me a sense of security.  With the restraints, I am not entirely left to my own determination to stay put as the intensity increases. 

He likes it because, as He puts it, the bench "presents" my ass nicely.  That's obviously a plus for Him, but since I don't often get to hear much about what He thinks, sees, or experiences during our sessions, I find that having that information improves my own experience, too.

I had two minor issues getting settled on the bench as we were getting started.  The first challenge is that the leather always feels cold to the touch.  Why is that?  I've played in all sorts of settings, and it always seems that the surface of whatever bondage equipment we might use is ALWAYS icy cold.  Putting naked parts down onto that cold surface is like jumping straight into a chilly pool.  It is OK once you get in, but that first plunge is tough.  The other challenge I encountered was about angles.  The inclined top of the bench seems to align my hips and spine in a perfect position to make every impact on my butt travel straight along my backbone and explode at the base of my skull.  It feels like He's swinging straight at the end of my tailbone and driving my spine right up into my head.  As a migraine sufferer, I am nervous about anything that is likely to send me over the edge into one of those beastly headaches.  However, this problem was pretty easy to manage.  He brought a couple of pillows off the bed and tucked them under my hips.  That changed the angle just enough to resolve the issue.  Thank You, Sir!

It was a pretty good session, I think -- for both of us.  He started with the suede floggers -- two-handed.  That's another benefit to the new spanking bench -- it seems to position me at precisely the right height/angle to let Him swing a flogger without it hurting His shoulders.  We've just about quit flogging because the arthritis in His shoulders has gotten so bad that He just can't do it without significant pain.  It might be that the new bench will give us back the shared joy of flogging.  Of course, suede floggers are very sensual toys and they don't create anything like the sort of painful intensity that He so enjoys.  Getting flogged with suede is a lot like a rapid fire massage.  The only real pain that is going to result from a suede flogging is that eventually the rough surface of the leather will create some abrasion.  It's a little sandpaper-ish after awhile.  Given my absolute preference?  I'd go with buffalo floggers everytime.  Buffalo is way heavier than suede.  It packs a pretty good wallop.  Buffalo hide has a pebbly texture, but the surface of the hide is smoother than suede.  The falls of a buffalo hide flogger fill the air with a delicious, deep, heavy leathery fragrance.  It is a whole other level of sensuality.

I think that He shifted from the floggers to a couple of different leather straps -- one about an inch and a half wide, and the other with a split tail.  I remember that the straps fell sharply and I remember the louder cracking sound they made as they hit.  It was a vivid contrast to the floggers, and I think I remember Him saying that I was getting a "beautiful red ass." 

In between implements, He wrapped His arms around me and assured me that He loved me.  That sort of closeness sustains me in the midst of a session.  He can ground me with His voice and His touch.

I'm not sure what He used next; maybe a quirt...  Quirts deliver that eyes-wide-open sort of stinging lashing pain.  I think that, with the quirt, I fell out of my usual "I love You, Sir" chanting and was reduced to counting strokes.  I try to never count strokes.  It doesn't work for me.  When I am counting, I inevitably hit the place where I become desperate, comparing the number of strokes past to those still to come.  Counting is the road to panic.  With the quirt falling across my butt in no discernible pattern, I caught myself counting, and as soon as I caught it, I forced myself back to my "I love You, Sir."  Better.  Way better.

There's a heavy leather paddle from Leather Thorn, and I think He used that and a small lexan paddle.  Somehow, the paddles didn't seem as difficult as paddles often do.  Maybe I was flying a bit.  Maybe? 

Toward the end, He brought out the Adam and Gillian cane.  The cane strokes seemed really heavy.  Sharp and biting, like a cane, but heavier than I remembered.  I don't know why that should have been, but it is the way it seems as I think back about it.  I think I must have made more noise than is allowed, because I remember Him shushing me at one point.  He wasn't angry at all, and I think I quieted down, because He went right on with the cane then. 

At the very end, He went and got one of those nasty switchy things that He's been fascinated with here lately.  The one He chose isn't as bad as the other one.  I remember trying to remember to just go through each stroke one at a time, but I don't think that held up very long.  The switchy things are just awful, and what I end up feeling at some point with them is that I just want to grab the damn thing and beat the shit out of Him with it.  Not the expected or acceptable reaction for a slave.  I know.  Whatever I did in response to the switchy thing, He didn't use it for very long.  He offered me the paddle to kiss, I thanked Him for my spanking, and it was over.

I think I did pretty well.  He seemed to think it was one of the "better" spankings that I've had in awhile.  I was glad, at the end that I'd done as well as I had, although I was aware of a sense of not going as far as I used to -- as far as I know He'd like me to.  I also know that I didn't come to that "other place" that I get to after a really good, and really intense session.  I ended up on that point of being angry over the switchy thing, and we didn't push past that place.  I was left wondering what might have happened if He'd gone on in the face of my anger.  Back in the "old days," that's what He would have done.  He'd have faced down my fury and gone right on with whatever He had in mind.  I'd have raged and stormed and strained at those restraints, and we'd have traveled to whatever place He saw for us.  When that used to happen, I almost always fell out on the other side of my anger and panic -- finding myself in some place that was washed in complete submission, feeling softer and safer and calmer. 

Everytime we talk about our current levels of play, I find myself feeling weak, frightened, and timid.  He always throws the challenge of just blistering me "the way He'd like to," and I always fall back into that unsure and scared place.  I am unable to assure Him that I'd like to play there, but I wonder...  If He took me there; if He claimed me as His, what would that be like?  I can't drag my mind away from that question.

swan