Unexpected repercussions…

I had a play date Wednesday afternoon with the guy I met in the bar with the stuff and the things.

I had some time during the day and he was feeling blah, so I offered to stop by with a movie and some good old Jewish Penicillin (read: Matzoh Ball soup). He accepted, and T was okay with it, so I stopped by.

He enjoyed the soup, and we spent some time in his kitchen chatting and playing the get to know you game. At some point, he asked me about work. Believe it or not, I do engage in non kink related activities. That’s the half I don’t write about here.

“Oh God.” I rolled my eyes… “I don’t even want to talk about it.”

“Then don’t talk about it.”

“You see, the problem I’m having is…” I stop myself mid thought. “You see, there I go again. I said I wasn’t going to talk about work, and here I go blathering on.”

He sat up in mock indignation. “Well, if that’s not an invitation for a spanking, I don’t knot what is. Did you honestly think I’d let that slip past me?”

He stood up, grabbed my wrist, and led me to the sofa in his living room.
And so, I found myself draped across his lap. Skirt on the floor, underwear around my ankles, gaging the intensity of each hit. It started slow and light. Slowly he ramped up the intensity, as he realized just how much I’m able to take. The intensity finally hit the level where it was hard enough to put me deep into sub space, but not so blisteringly hard that I was crying out in pain. Those strokes came later. That was just round one.

“I don’t want you to think your trip out here was for nothing.”

Somewhere during the scene, I bit my lip. Hard. By the time I came up for air, my lower lip had swollen up. Keep in mind, I had to teach a class a few hours later… And here I was, looking like I had just come out of a bar fight.

“How did that happen?” He asks me. “Were you trying not to scream or something?”

I had no idea. No clue. I didn’t realize I had even bit my lip until I noticed the swelling.
“It looks like you got hit! Well, I mean… you did…”

“Just not there…” I finished the thought for him.

He went to the kitchen to get me a piece of ice for my lip. I migrated over to his shelf of movies. He came back, noting the spanking bench I was so conveniently standing next to it. Now I wish I could say that this was completely planned on my part, and that I conveniently positioned myself so that I’d be right next to the said bench when he returned. I’m not nearly so slick. My proximity to the bench didn’t really occur to me until I was bent over it, trying to keep the ice cube and the ever soggy paper towel surrounding it pressed against my lip, while he was wailing on my tush.

It became one of those scenes where every small verbal misstep on my part became and excuse for a spanking. I am both bratty and have chronic foot in mouth syndrome. I don’t know how long we played, all told… at least an hour and a half, by my count. All I know is that a) the movie part never happened and b) by the time I left, my butt was bright red, and generating enough heat to be used as a very small space heater. Ahh, good times.

“Now whatever you do, don’t go through class thinking about your warm, spanked tush, and your soaked underwear.” His parting words of wisdom.

I was surprisingly ok for my class. Unusually energetic, but sitting down was mostly ok, and by then, my lip had returned more or less to normal. It wasn’t until the day after that I felt the full repercussions of the scene.

My butt was still a bit red the next day, which is surprising, because I tend to heal pretty quickly. It was kind of cool, actually. (see my post on marks)

More surprising was the fact that my abdominal muscles hurt like a motherfucker. Seriously. This was definitely a new thing for me. Even after the Flea, I didn’t experience anything quite like that. My butt was purple, and I had lash marks on my thighs that didn’t go away for a good two weeks (thank you, Boymeat), but my abdominal muscles were fine. As I type this, my abs are still a little uncomfortable.

The next morning, I met with one of my private students for a session. He noticed my occasional wincing.

“Sascha, are you ok?”

“I’m fine. I was helping a friend move some boxes, and now my stomach muscles are killing me.”

“Of course, all that core strength.”

“Yeah. That’s it. Core strength. Now, we were talking about permutations…”

I went to Pleasure Salon that evening. I sat around with a happy group of fellow perverts, drinking and carousing. It hurt to laugh. And I laughed a lot. My friend noticed my simultaneous laughing and owing and asked what was up. I explained. She was highly amused, as was I… which, of course, led to more pain. She said the spanking bench was probably the culprit.

Note to self… Long spanking scene = excellent core workout. Either that, or I’m really out of shape. Or both. Still, knowing is half the battle.

~ by Sascha on March 28, 2008.