Saturday, July 13, 2013

I love canes

Kink of the week: Canes

The first time Mr Reg took me to play somewhere outside our home, I was spanked thoroughly. His friend put me over his knee and worked my ass for a long time. My buttocks were glowing and warm. I was excited. I had submitted completely. Next, he tied me to a vault. My arms and feet against the legs. I could not move and was blind folded.
My first caning
The pain from the first blow startled me. I felt a rush of adrenaline flow through my veins. Then the sting followed, right after impact. That was pure pleasure. I don't remember how many hits I received. They were aimed at my ass and my legs. After a while I was told I would receive three more. I felt relieved and disappointed at the same time.


 Where it hits me

I love the feeling of the cane on my ass and legs. However, I really don't like feeling it on my outer thighs. For some reason it doesn't sting there, it feels damaging. The feeling I get the second after the cane hits my flesh is one of destruction, not pleasure. It hurts in a bad way. Obviously my inner thighs are even more sensitive, but being hit there has an erotic aspect to it. The worst thing is being hit on my feet. I run as a way to workout and to clear my mind. Being hit on my feet feels crippling. Even if done lightly.

I hate thick canes

Mr Reg bought a cane soon after my first caning. And then he started buying more. Thicker canes, fiber glass canes, rubber canes etc. I don't really like thick canes. The feeling when I get hit is more thuddy, not stingy. It feels like I might break. One day we had another date with our friend. When we came to his hotel room, he showed us the thick cane he brought with him. It really scared me. He hit me with it, and it was really difficult to handle the blows. Only after hitting me with something else putting me in a light form of sub space, I was able to handle the hits. Thinking about that one makes my heart beat faster and I become excited just thinking about how afraid I was of it. I love being scared like that...

The really thick one left some marks

Why I love canes

I love canes. I love the stingy feeling right after impact. I love being close to the person that handles the cane. Unlike whips and other implements, canes require the other person to be close. And because of the shape and form the person using the cane can really control how it will hit me: how fast it hits me, how hard it hits me, where it hits me. I love the swooshing sound it makes and the sound of the impact. It is a symbol of punishment. That excites me. Even though I have never been punished with it. I think I like the feeling too much for that ;) And last but not least I love the marks that it leaves. The two red stripes with white in the middle make me smile for weeks after being beaten with it. I love canes :)

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Kink of the Week

Saturday, July 6, 2013

My ambivalence towards marks

Kink of the week: Marks

The first time I was caned I was appalled by the bruising it caused. After a while they faded (but not before turning yellow and purple and all the other ugly colors) and what remained were the cane marks. I loved those! They looked very different compared to the bruises: neatly aligned in a row, on my ass and legs. All the same color: two red stripes with a little white line in the middle.

This basically has not changed. I don't like bruising but love marks from a cane or sharp things. They remind me of the event, the person who caused them, the feeling it gave me and it somehow serves as a measure of the pain I endured.

Marks just after the fact

Hiding at home

One problem with marks is the kids. We are pretty open in our house. The bathroom door is almost never locked. When I shower, the kids walk in all the time. To brush their teeth, ask a question etc. When I am bruised, I need to make sure they don't see it. I walk around in a bath robe, need to get up early to make sure I shower before they wake up, and make sure my clothes cover my bruises.

Dating and going out

I date other people apart from MrReg, as I described here. Obviously all people are different, so some people I date are not into pain and don't like marks. A couple of months ago I planned a play date. Usually I end up with plenty of marks. Mostly on my ass and my legs. The timing was bad though; a couple of days later I was supposed to go on a date with a friend who does not like marks. There would be no way I could hide them so I asked MrReg to go easy on me and not to mark me. Thankfully he agreed and I could go on my date unmarked. A similar situation ended differently: right after a play date that would leave me marked we would go to the sauna. I expressed my doubts to MrReg but he did not think it was a big deal. This time I would have to go out with the marks. In the sauna I wore a towel around my waste most of the time, to hide my bruises. According to a friend, it looked like I had been in an accident. I was very self conscious, because my legs were so bruised. Not neatly marked, but black and blue. Under normal circumstances I like being in the sauna; looking at people, being looked at by people. This time I enjoyed the company, but not so much the sauna experience of being naked.

Showing off

I don't like bruises. I don't like looking at bruises. But, if I see a sub or slave with marks and bruises, I envy them. I wonder about what caused it. What the occasion was. How they interacted together. And I like to show off my own marks. To other subs and slaves. As a trophy. To sadists. As a token of my masochism.


As I said, my feelings about marks are ambivalent. I was not going to write for this weeks kink of the week, because marks are not a kink for me. However, the other day a friend made a remark that got me thinking. He said he would like to see me marked. As an aberration. Which made me realize something: it is not about what caused the marks, it is about what is marked. It is about my body being altered. Temporarily of course. But still. Maybe that is really why I have conflicting thoughts about marks. It has something to do with the ambivalence I feel towards myself and my body.

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