I have the best friends. Like seriously, the BEST friends. The kinds of friends that, when I say “Hey, want to come beat me up for my birthday? And maybe put it on the internet?” The answer I receive is an overwhelming, enthusiastic, HELL YES.
Perhaps that needs some more explination? On September the 15th I turned 25, and as part of my celebration my best friend and I threw a spanking party. As you do.
The plan was simple, everyone who was invited to the party was also invited to spank me 25 times, once for each year my queer ass has been on this earth.
Because I am a blogger and an exhibitionist, we also decided to live stream the event. We offered the viewers the opportunity to buy extra spanks for me, by tipping via paypal and choosing the implement, body part, and person to deliver the blows.
— Kate Sloan (@Girly_Juice) September 17, 2016
Before we started I gave a brief spanking safety lesson (we had some beginners in the room) and did a run through of the many products on the table as well as my preferences. I told them some of my favorite spots to be hit1 and the implements that I particularly enjoy. I also pointed out the ones that I can only endure sporadic hits from, because they’re particularly mean.
We had an entire table of hitty things for out guests to play with, but there were a few crowd favorites, many of which, luckily, happen to also be my favorites.
Lexan Paddle– This giant hunk of clear plastic was a birthday gift from my best friend Kate, she spanked me with hers last time I was in Toronto and I immediately fell in love, so I’m thrilled to have one of my own. The broad flat surface gives a satisfying thwack with a hint of sting and bruises impeccably well. Plus it’s clear, so you never have to take your eyes off of your bottom’s bottom, which really, is the ideal scenario.
Stay Paddle– I’m here to tell you a secret, this one is nowhere near as mean as it looks. This solid aluminum rod with it’s silicone head was easily the thuddiest thing on the table, with each blow landing like a heavy punch. It’s my favorite along my back and chest but I was surprised to find I really liked it on my ass once it had already been thoroughly bruised.
Stone Crop– This crop. This fucking crop. Picked up in a little leather and coffee shop in Minneapolis it impresses nearly every person I show. It’s fucking magical. With it’s swishy metal rod and heavy stone head it’s incredibly satisfying to wield, and super brutal to receive. Although I started out by warning folx I can only take a few hits at at time from this one, it wound up being the most popular. I’m okay with that though, it leaves the most delightful welts.
We started out slow, and it seemed like people were gravitating towards the more traditional devices, focusing nearly all of their blows on my ass. That is, until my Sir, who was also watching on the live stream, pointed out that my thighs (the most sensitive part of my body for impact) weren’t getting tortured nearly enough. He’s considerate like that. It wasn’t long before the chat in the live stream was full of so many requests to hit me that I could barely keep track, and started to worry that maybe I wouldn’t be able to take them all.
When we did our best guess of the math the next day, we concluded that, by a conservative estimate, I took more than 350 hits total.
I spent most of that night bent over a table in the middle of the room, giggling, yelping, moaning, sighing, and even letting out the occasional “oof” with a particularly heavy blow. I danced on my toes, grasped the table, flinched, and arched my back. I took ten solid hits across my tits from the stone crop2 while I faced the camera and counted down. I was flogged by seat belts and hit with a rubber cane.
I was giddy and I was sore.
I felt strong.
I felt loved.
Towards the end of the evening I started to feel myself slipping into subspace and with all the intoxicants3 and distractions in the room, I really wanted to be in control of what was happening to me, so we decided to wrap it up.
As soon as the cameras went off I was surrounded by hugs and head scritches, I was fed delicious chocolates, and I was ushered to the couch4 where I read all of the amazing things people had tweeted and my Sir told me what a good pup I’d been.5 Kate played some songs on the piano with another musically inclined friend of ours, then everyone took me out for mac and cheese.
The next morning I hadn’t fully emerged from subspace, but Kate had family plans and I had time to kill. So there I was, wandering around Downtown Toronto, craving pain, pondering how significant the night prior had felt, and carrying a wallet full of money from the show. All I knew was that I wanted to do something special with it, something meaningful and permanent.
When I finished the paperwork at Adrenaline Tattoo the man behind the counter smiled at me. “Do your friends want to come watch you be in pain?” he asked, nodding towards the group of queers that had journeyed to the shop with me, oblivious to the events of the night before and the significance of the lip ring he was about to give me.
“Yes. Definitely.” I replied with a smile.
- My ass, but also my upper back, and chest, which people often ignore. [↩]
- Another suggestion from my sadistic ahem I mean, supremely generous, Sir. [↩]
- I stayed sober until after the spanking because safety and things. [↩]
- I was perfectly content to just lay on the floor to be perfectly honest, but I was told that wasn’t allowed. [↩]
- That was the first time he had seen me take a real beating, despite knowing him for more than a year, since he lives real far away. Though I may have blushed like a 14 year old when his face popped up on the computer screen, I was so, so glad that he could be there to watch. [↩]