Thursday, November 29, 2012

Our Journey: Genuine Punishments

In Our Journey series, we explore an aspect of our kink - how we discovered it and how we got to the place we are now. Here, we discuss our exploration of genuine punishments as it relates to our D/s. This was something that took a great deal of discussion to find something that worked for us.

A Genuine Punishment No! No! No!
Lizzie and I had a fun, casual play relationship—mostly at parties and occasionally via email and IM. There were some “issues” that I had seen arise as patterns in her life and I suggested that perhaps what she really needed was a punishment as a means to help curb these particular traits. Her response was immediate and vehement. “Absolutely not. I have no interest in D/s.”

When we started talking about it again a few weeks/months later (it needed time to sit) I learned something that seemed rather much a duh when she said it. The notion of punishment didn’t work with her because, well, she’s quite the pain slut. She can pretty much take about as much as can be given, so the notion of getting a spanking is more of a “Yes, thank you!” than an, “Oh shit! No! Don’t do that!”

So that got me thinking.

If threatening with a punishment resulted in a “Yes please!” I needed to come up with something that would instill a cold and icy chill up the spine when I said it. And even worse, if it came to be, wouldn’t be fun at all. So as our conversations progressed on the subject I introduced the idea to her of what we “affectionately” refer to as a “G.P.” A Genuine Punishment.
When Craig first mentioned punishment and accountability in our relationship, my response was: “Not no, but hell no! Never, ever, ever. I am NOT interested.” [To anyone who wants to say “never say never,” this is your chance. I knew better then and I certainly know better now. Thanks.] My response was so vehement that it was some time before we discussed this issue again.

For context, my interest in spanking began as a child, when spanking meant punishment (albeit one my parents never used). In the natural progression of things, my earliest spanking fantasies revolved around punishment scenarios. When I began to explore these fantasies, I pursued disciplinarian-style relationships with little success.

The primary problem is that I, well, LOVE to be spanked. It’s a bit like being told: “Because you didn’t eat your dinner, you’re going to have to eat a piece of your favorite dessert.” And because I am a pain slut, you can’t even get to “you’ll have to eat the entire cake until you’re sick” point with me, without going to a physically damaging point that is outside my limits. And unfortunately, I’ve had too many people suggest the latter.
The True Nature of the Pain Slut Well, maybe...
Once it dawned on me (again, duh!) that the pain slut wouldn’t find a threat of a punishment as being anything but a reward, my mind went to work. I did a little research on FL, asked some Dommy friends, and found that most people weren’t in the same mindset as where I was heading with this. Corner time was the typical response. That seemed easy and frustrating, but what I wanted to do was instil fear in the hearts of my girl when I threatened the dreaded G.P.

My biggest problem was that she was in a faraway state and I was in L.A., so when she needed some correction it would have to be done long distance. The idea of long distance D/s works for some, but for me it’s hard to imagine and even harder for me to see inflicting. After all, “Spank yourself” just seems laughable to me (though I’ll admit I know it works for some). So...not standing in the corner, not a “funishment” and something that could be done long distance. This was getting harder.

Finally, after talking to Lizzie on the phone one day, I discovered she had done something rather egregious—one of her “issues” had arisen again. Our relationship had taken on more gravitas in the ensuing months since our initial conversation on the topic and it seemed time to exact her first G.P.
We discussed the concept on and off for some time. I described some of the problems I’d encountered - “punishment” spankings that ended up being sensual spankings, idiots who promised they could beat me enough to be punishment (I never tried this, I don’t have any interest in being beaten senseless), ridiculous attempts at being told to stand in the corner which were either goofy roleplays or even sillier “funishments.”

But as Craig and I talked in detail about these various experiences, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, it was worth trying. When I described a situation, Craig questioned the dynamics and the reasons, helping me learn more about what had gone wrong. as the emails flew back and forth, I decided I was willing to try it out with him.

I wrote about the first physical punishment scene we had HERE, but I haven’t written about an earlier occasion that cemented for me the decision to try. I’d had a trying evening at a spanking party. Craig tucked me in, but I was whiney and obstinate, fighting the need to go to bed early. He threatened to treat me “like one of his kids” and take away my phone. I pulled the covers up to my chin and fell asleep.
The Rice Torture Ugh
“Go to your kitchen and get some uncooked rice. Now.” Lizzie, on the other end of the phone, was baffled. She did as she was told, undressed and scattered the rice on her hardwood floor. I told her to kneel on the rice, keeping her toes off the floor. I told her to put her iPhone nearby, on speaker. I set a timer and put my phone on mute so she would experience an inexorable silence. At the end of this (short) time—five minutes—I came back on the line and told her to get up. I heard her the entire time, sniffling and sighing and moaning in pain.

“Did it hurt?” I asked. “YES!” “Was it a ‘good hurt’?” I inquired. “NO!”

She cried and sniffled and I told her she was a good girl, she had received her first Genuine Punishment. She agreed that punishment wasn’t something she would ever want, let alone wish on anyone else! After she settled down I told her to go to the kitchen and fetch a small glass jar. Then I made her pick up each and every grain, place them in the jar and put the jar someplace where she would see it every day as a visual reminder to do as she was told. A visual deterrent.

I’ve used this G.P. with other girls long distance and it’s highly effective. I’ve also used corner standing in a pinch, but with other additions to show my very real sincerity in them understanding how serious I took the punishment. I’m pretty creative, so these G.P.s aren’t hard for me to figure out.

Lizzie rarely earns a G.P. She’s a good girl. Our dynamic, our relationship and our D/s has grown over time. The absolutes are that she is a true pain slut and that our Genuine Punishments are anything but funishments.
Looking back, I think we started playing with this dynamic long before either of us would have classified it as such. It works not because of the specific (frequently creative) punishments Craig dreams up, but because of our relationship - the respect and the power exchange we share.

Craig doesn’t punish me for trivial things or use punishments that encourage me to repeat the behavior to “earn” the fun. He can terrify me with two simple words: Genuine Punishment.

More often, though, we don’t get that far. He can settle me with a few whispered words. He can pull me back from a melt down with one hand, wrapped tightly around my wrist. That simple action takes my breath away and pulls everything back into focus.

The long-distance punishments Craig describes worked, but I’m happy to have the distance removed from our relationship. I was thrilled to throw away that glass jar of rice when Craig was helping me pack up so that he could take me home. But there was a bit of melancholy with that as well - a bit of sadness in throwing away the visual reminder of our first experiments.

It’s an adventure - this thing we do. A quest of learning what works and what doesn’t, always being open to the idea that opinions and needs may change. Something that makes me recoil today might interest me when displayed in a different light.

I still don’t like a Genuine Punishment (it wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I did!), but I know that I need them sometimes. And I’m lucky to have found someone who understands me so well.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012


On this Thanksgiving Day we wanted to take say thank you for joining us on our joint blog, Black & Blue. We are thankful for you, our generous readers and, in particular, to Chross for our very first Chrossing last week. What a surprise! Took our traffic through the roof!

As all of you are sitting down to your organic, free-range, GMO-free, heritage turkeys and pancetta garlic brussel sprouts (oh wait--that's OUR Thanksgiving dinner!) we hope you and yours (whether poly, open, vanilla—whatever) have a wonderful, delicious holiday.

What am I most thankful for? Well, you’d think it would be a great job, a wonderful home and some pretty great kids. You’d think it was my lover and play partner, Lizzie. You’d think it was my good health. Well, while all good, you’d be wrong. What am I most thankful for? That. That right there. Right over there. To the right. That butt. That beautiful ass. That wonderful, smackable, delightful derrier.

And what am I most thankful for? There’s certainly a list of things I’m thankful for - my lover, Craig, first among them. There are so many wonderful things in my life. But I’m beyond thankful for Craig’s hand. It’s my favorite implement. His hand can drive me to great heights of agony and pull me back to the ground through any crisis. I’m thankful for his hand.

Of course, I’m also rather thankful for those. Both of ‘em. Not just the one, that’d be weird. Both. They’re a pair. They go together like pancetta and brussel sprouts. And, not to be a jackass. they’re mine. And for that, I’m thankful.

But, of course, I like some variety. And as a pain slut, sometimes Craig likes to use a few different things. This picture is just a small selection of our collection - but I’m thankful for it.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Back at the Lair...

We had another scene at the Lair de Sade this past weekend. Like before, here are our side-by-side perspectives on the experience.

From the Top From the Table
Lizzie and I were ready to head back to our local dungeon, the Lair de Sade, for a new scene. The two times we had been there before had been similar scenes, both in terms of where we played, the equipment we used and the type of implements that were involved. You can read about those scenes HERE and HERE, if you’d like.

As I am wont to do, I asked Lizzie what kind of scene she was looking for (some would call this “negotiation,” we call it “talking”—you can read my thoughts on that subject HERE). She said she wanted something more intimate, something that wasn’t so BDSM-y. Something that didn’t focus on her being restrained up on a St. Andrew’s Cross. As I thought about what would be different, I said, “We could go in the room off the kitchen and use the padded table. It could be a much more intimate scene.” I realized when I said it that it would be more like the scenes I used to have with Erica and I said that to Lizzie. “Yeah,” she said. “I think I’d like that.”
Craig and I don’t do formal negotiation for scenes anymore - we did so much of that through stories over the years as our friendship developed. But before we have a big scene, Craig always asks if there is anything I want. I very rarely make specific requests. Craig also asks if there is anything I need from the scene. Occasionally, I have such a request, as I did this time.

We have had the opportunity to play with some frequency at home, as Craig blogged about HERE. That’s been wonderful - reaffirming and reassuring. But because of the way our last scene at the Lair ended, I was feeling a little gun-shy.

I made one of my occasional requests - I wanted an intimate scene with plenty of over-the-knee (OTK). When I first started to describe this to Craig, he thought that all I wanted was OTK, which would be a huge limit on our scene. He said as much and I was able to further describe what I was hoping to get from the scene.
So last Friday we ended up at the Lair, hanging out with friends and chatting and laughing, then, as the night wore on, we headed to the room off the kitchen, a quiet and smaller room where only a couple people could play (or watch) at a time.

Lizzie set up the implements and cleaned the padded table. We made our necessary preparations and before long, I had her by the wrist and was pulling her across my lap.

For the next two hours, things get to be kind of a blur. I did manage to hit my own topspace, which is a bonus because it doesn’t always happen (and doesn’t need to).
We’ve started so many parties and visits with a long OTK session. There is something special about that connection. I love the feeling of his legs beneath me and his arm around my waist. I like to slip one arm underneath me and set it against his leg, my hand squeezing his thigh. There’s something about it that “shakes the dust off our connection” - it brushes away the stress of our travels or the uncertainty of the day. It reaffirms our connection and our intimacy.

It was that feeling, rather than a particular connection, that I wanted and needed from this scene. We concluded that we would do an "Erica style” scene - using the location in the Lair that she preferred.
The OTK went on for a while. I started slowly, getting her bottom nice and red, but then began to build up in intensity until I was spanking her almost full force. After my hand, I had Lizzie hand me implements, ranging from a London Tanners nanny paddle to some of my other favorite leather and wood paddle implements. Her beautifully shaped rear was getting redder and redder.

Sensing it was time to change position, I stood her up and had her lay her torso across the padded bench so she was standing on the floor with her ass presented to me. I used a crop on her legs, feet, thighs, hips, back and shoulders. Then I concentrated on her ass, hauling off and smacking it hard. I followed the same pattern with a small cane, then went back and focused on her ass with a thicker red acrylic cane the left welting red marks across her cheeks.

I brought out my fur mitt, letting Lizzie luxuriate in the sensation before using the bear claws on the end of the mitt to dig into her flesh and drag tracers down her skin. Putting on my vampire gloves, I slowly worked my way across her flesh, releasing squeals and moans from Lizzie along the way. I had her flip over and covered her front side with the cane, then carefully moved the vampire gloves across her legs, between her legs, over her flat belly and then focused on torturing her breasts.

Deep in her subspace now I turned Lizzie back over and went in for the kill. I brutalized her bottom with all manner of implements—wood paddles; straps of varying lengths, widths and thicknesses; flappy leather things, a tawse and more. Lizzie cried, then sobbed, then pleaded. When she uses my name I know she’s nearing her edge of what she can withstand. It’s the closest we get to a safeword. (I don’t believe in safewords. You can read my “manifesto” on that HERE .)
We started with the requested OTK. Craig sat on the padded table in the room off the kitchen and pulled me over his lap. Early on, I was having so much trouble with my stockings (they kept rolling down and the resulting roll was too tight on my thighs) that Craig said I could take them off. I ended up taking off my shoes and rolling my stockings down to just below my knees. For whatever reason, I didn’t slip my shoes back on.

He spanked me with his hand for a long time, using various techniques including several stinging ones that I hate! He then had me get up and fetch the nanny paddle, which was worse. He had me squirming all over his lap before he decided to have me get up on the table.

Once I was on the table, things get a little fuzzy for me. I wasn’t restrained in any way and I had my favorite silky blanket under my head and chest, propping me up a bit (and providing something to clench my hands around at various points). Craig used a variety of implements on me before shifting to sensation play.

Craig has several different dastardly things for sensation play. This time, he had his fur mitt with hidden claws, his vampire gloves, and these huge metal claws that he fastens to several of his fingers. Those claws had me shrieking and fighting to stay on the table, several times!

Craig flogged my back (lovely) and he had me spread my legs so he could flog my pussy (delicious). But all too soon he was back to ouchy things, straps and paddles and such. Suddenly, he leaned down to me and said, “This last part is going to be really hard for you to take, but you’re going to do this for me.”
Her bottom really was almost raw, beyond red, and already starting to bruise. Her back had runners of red—almost like I had taken a felt tip pen and drawn lines up and down her skin—from the sharp metal finger claws I had used on her flesh earlier. There were light welts between her thighs from caning.

I leaned down and whispered, “Now comes the hard part.” Lizzie moaned in anticipation. I brought out “The Scene Ender,” a terrible invention of a crop with a thick rubber “V” at the end. With every swing of the diabolical implement it left a perfect V-shaped welt. I continued using it until Lizzie begged to have it stop, then I used it to a count of ten, just for good measure. By “eight” she was nearly levitating off the padded table, so I knew the scene was coming to a close.

I finished the count, dropped the implement, kneeled down next to her head and cradled her in my arms, holding onto her as she sobbed, her tears dripping onto the fake leather of the bench. “Shhhh,” I said. “Shhhh. It’s over. It’s done. You’re safe.” And she was.
I remember thinking that was an odd thing to say, especially as I was in such a good place that anything would be easy. Until his awful rubber crop landed on the back of my thigh! I rose up off the table, barely able to breath. His free hand slid from my waist to my raised shoulder and he said, “Down.”

I managed one full breath and sank back onto the table. He struck my other thigh, then alternated between them several times until I was sobbing and shaking. He sat down on the table beside me, laying partially on top of me and started whispering lovely things to me. I love that contact, that reassurance, that aftercare. Soon he was sitting up on the table and I was curled around him, the way I like to be. All too soon, it was time to clean up and head home. We had an early and full day ahead.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Love Our Lurkers!

We've got a relatively new blog here with Black & Blue, so we doubt we have too many lurkers here (yet). Nonetheless, today is Love our Lurkers Day (a day set aside each year by fellow kinkser and megablogger Bonnie ). To those of you who have found our new blog recently: thank for reading! Though you may not post comments we sincerely appreciate you joining us. As this is so new we have lots of great content, photos and more coming soon, so please stick with us, okay?

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Dungeon Calling...

Both of us are writing from memory. We had time for the scene nearly three weeks ago, but we haven’t, either of us, had an opportunity to write it up.

If you’re interested in how we’re doing this (a process that is still in an experimental phase): Lizzie wrote her side, replaced all the text with jibberish (to maintain similar length) and sent it to Craig, who wrote his side.

His Side Her Side
This was quite a night for me. It was a return to the Lair de Sade, a bit of a bell weather event for me because I’d been away for a while (see my blog post about this here). Bringing Lizzie represented it’s own special event as well. This was the first of many scenes we’ll share at our favorite house of pain. Of course, Lizzie had been there before (and you can read about that scene here).

After making conversation, we settled into the main room and Lizzie took care of laying out my implements, carefully placing them on a clean, white towel and cleaning off the St. Andrew’s cross I would restrain her to shortly.

We hadn’t had a proper BDSM scene in some time. One of the things I had looked forward to doing was introducing Lizzie to some new implements. I have quite a few (well, okay...a lot) and I don’t travel with most of them. I have set aside a “travel kit” of implements and I think Lizzie has gotten to know those well from party after party. It was time to show her some new toys.
After a cross-country move and multiple birthday celebrations (Craig and I have birthdays only a week apart), we finally got a chance to go to the Lair for a scene. I was meeting Craig at work, so I needed a properly vanilla outfit. I knew what I wanted to wear later that night, so I came up with this outfit to start with. (Jada approved this outfit as properly “stodgy” for a work appearance.)

I got an iPhone 5 for my birthday, so I had a new phone to play with while I navigated L.A. traffic for the first time. For some reason, Siri was able to provide perfect directions when I said “take me to Craig’s work,” but when I tried to send a text to him, Siri told me I didn’t have a contact named Frankie or Sally or any other name she thought I was saying.

Siri’s idiosyncrasies aside, I parked in Craig’s spot at work because he was ready to leave. He drove (stopping abruptly to fill up because the fuel price was “under $5”; where am I, anyway?). We stopped for dinner, then went on to the Lair.
Once Lizzie got everything set up I gathered her in my arms, brought her over to me as I sat down on a leather armchair and took her across my lap for a brief OTK warm-up spanking. Something to take the edge off. That initial connection is so important to a good scene and I know she really appreciates the over-the-knee start to a scene.

I moved her quickly to the cross, restraining her wrists and ankles to the thing and pulling out the first of many implements. I started off by continuing her spanking, now standing, combining hand and various paddles of leather and wood. I moved on to straps and strappy implements, really laying into the flesh of her bottom, raising red welts in perfect bands across her bottom.

Taking breaks, rubbing it out, I went on to the cane, giving the entire backside of her body a light whack, whack, whack to awaken the skin and nerve endingings, focusing on her hips and thighs because I know she’s sensitive in those places and it’s hard for her to take. Running from the tops of her feet, up her legs, focusing on her bottom, moving up her sides and the soft parts of her back, across her shoulders and arms...

Then I turned her around, attaching her back to the big wood X and doing the same on her front side, focusing again between her legs, caning her pussy, then moving up to her belly and finally on her breasts. I caned them lightly, then decided I wanted to mark them both and, taking careful aim, left my signature “10, 12 and 2” pattern, leaving raised red welts in a pattern on her luscious tits.

I used my dragon tongue on her bottom, snapping and cracking it on her ass. The noise filled the large room and, as I glanced around, I’d discovered we had gathered a small audience of onlookers eager to see Lizzie’s sexy body and curious as to what was going to happen next.

I gently rubbed her skin with a fur mitt, then “deployed” the bear claws embedded within and dragged their pointy tips across the flesh of her front side, then turned her around and did the same across her back and bottom.

At this point, Lizzie’s arms and legs were getting tired from being restrained, so I took her off and set her onto a padded saw horse, clipping her wrist and ankle restraints to the hardware to keep her in place. I took out my heavy moose flogger--one that packs a wallop! Bottoms have told me that it can knock the wind out of them. I flogged Lizzie’s back and heard her moans and grunts. I took to flogging her bottom, really swinging the heavy falls to smash against her raw, red flesh.

But then something happened. I could tell Lizzie was in distress. I stopped what I was doing and leaned down to whisper in her ear to see if she was okay. She wasn’t. I quickly unrestrained her from the saw horse, grabbed the soft blanket and took her to a seat to sit on my lap and let me cradle her in my arms.

What was wrong? What had happened?

Lizzie didn’t want to talk about it at first, afraid to ruin the scene, ruin this special and significant night for us. But eventually she confided that she hated being flogged in the bottom, that I knew this, but it happened anyway. It had been so long, over a year since I had tried flogging her bottom in a similar scene at the Lair! I was mortified and felt horrible! How could I forget!

Lizzie hugged and kissed me, telling me it was okay and I hugged and kissed her back, telling her how sorry I was. It wasn’t a good ending to our scene, but that’s how it went down. 95% of the scene had been spectacular. It just ended on a bad note. I hate it when stuff like this happens, but occasionally it does. The key is to not have that moment ruin everything else, a hard task for me because I take the error so internally. Lizzie was great. We packed up, said our goodnights to others there and headed out.

Our first scene back at the Lair wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. And a start of many, many more to come.
Craig had a meeting at the dungeon, so I got a chance to meet some of the other girls. It was nice to spend some time talking to fellow kinksters. It’s the first opportunity I’ve had since moving.

I related my experience earlier that day, when someone told me I would find it easy to adjust to this small town (of about 35,000 people). I responded that I had moved from a farm between two small towns - one with 2,000 people and the other with 1,000 people. The poor girl simply stared at me, as if she could not even imagine such a small town. As it happens, I overestimated the populations: 900 and 700 would have been more accurate.

After Craig’s meeting, he came outside and we spent a few minutes talking. At some point, I got sassy with Craig and he turned me over his knee. I always love our OTK sessions, no matter how brief, because we have such an intense, intimate connection.

Craig picked out a spot in the main room for our scene and left me to set out his implements. I spread out Craig’s “signature” white towel and set out a variety of canes, floggers, and paddles. There’s a certain thrill to setting everything out, knowing that he might use any of those things, or all of those things, on me.

He started by taking off my clothes and buckling restraints on my wrists and ankles. He soon had me clipped onto the cross. I think he started with a cane. I remember that we broke an implement - or rather, the handle came unglued from a bundle of canes. Craig used a single cane from that bunch for awhile, which stung horribly.

Craig was checking in frequently, so I was able to tell him when something odd happened: When he struck the back of my thigh (rather hard, I might add), something about my position squished the front of my thigh between the cane and the cross. Not at all a good pain. But due to that unusual injury, he left the fronts of my thighs largely untouched when he turned me around.

He had me turn around and lean back against the cross. I had my hands behind me, holding me away from the wood. I don’t think he restrained me. Instead, it was purely the dynamic of our power exchange that held me still while he caned my breasts. That exchange brought everything around us into a sudden focus and I noticed that our scene had drawn quite a crowd.

The Lair has mirrors on the wall behind the cross. I had noticed the revolving observers earlier, but the breast caning drew and kept a larger group watching.

I think Craig turned me around again, caning and paddling me before we moved to the spanking bench. He restrained me there and started with a series of floggers. I remembered setting out a number of floggers, but I couldn’t tell which he started with. After flogging my back (which I love) for awhile, he moved on to flog my bottom.

As a spanko, you might expect I would love that. But here’s the odd thing: when I started playing with floggers in the spanking scene, I decided I hated floggers. Turns out, I simply hate being flogged on the bottom. I hate it so much that it’s become something of a trigger. Particularly because it’s something I tell everyone I play with. Having that ignored or forgotten can put me in a bad place, even when I know later that it isn’t intentional. In that moment, I lose touch with reality and go to a very negative place.

Craig was amazing. Noticing that I was in distress and stopping the scene, even when I didn’t want to. That may the most important characteristic in my play partners - knowing when to stop and, occasionally, forcing the issue. I am (unfortunately more often than not) my own worst enemy.

We had a wonderful, intimate scene. I know we attracted plenty of attention, with our dynamic, our energy, our connection. It’s unfortunate it ended on such a note. All the same, I feel like we had an incredible scene that night.