Still such a noob at this whole impact punishment/play thing. I feel like every time I set out to be better at it, to own it, Charmer tosses another wrench into things and gets me all kinds of messed up. [SSC: I don’t want you getting bored…]
This time was no different.
We’ve sort of settled on a ratio of 10:1 currently. For every infraction, it’s 10 “impacts” or swats. She has say on whether that’s increased/decreased, but it seems to work out.
Before this time, I was sitting at 26. That’s right. 26. [SSC: Wouldn’t you think that he’d stop getting them for the same thing? I think that he secretly likes this.] That’s at least 260. I don’t know about you, but to me, that’s a LOT. The warning I’d received was that we were going to take care of 5 infractions that evening. I spent the rest of the day going over in my mind how I was going to mentally rush to the corner and just take it. Show that I can control the response. Suck it up, as it were.
A quick note of background – the last time we had together on this, I wasn’t very happy with my response. Felt a bit… weak. OK, felt a LOT weak. So I was bound and determined to handle this much better. I figured if I could just get things to where I was feeling, but not FEELING it, I’d be home free. Just a little concentration, that’s all. No problem. Got this.
So, Charmer gets out the tool kit I put together for her -it’s one of those roll-up tool “bag” things – and it holds the impact toys except for the crop. [SSC: For those Dexter fans out there, I refer to it as my Kill Bag.] As she’s rolling this out and looking at her options, she lets me know that I’ll be counting the hits for her.
But… concentration… sinking into the moment… staying well in control… I have to pay attention and count? I’m doomed.
First couple of hits… “I’m not hearing anything…” OH, so not only do I have to know the count, I have to count them out loud, presumably intelligibly. [SSC: You don’t expect me to keep track, do you?] I’m screwed.
So yeah, there I am, propped up, ass in the air, up against the couch. Counting. And staying WAY too present. I felt every, single, smack in great, glorious detail. We went from straps to paddles to the wooden spoon to the crop and all sorts of ways back and forth.
I was doing so well – but then 17 hit. 17. Remember I was going to suck it up? Yeah. A lowly 17. I flipped over. Big mistake. Another infraction. [SSC: Sigh. See? I think that he secretly wants more.] Lovely. I forced myself to re-assume the position and never moved out of the way or over or anything else again. I managed to count it out, AND we managed to take care of the infraction I just gained. So 60 this time. It’s just a start, and I think the next time will be significantly longer, and, well, I expect I’ll be back here writing.
So what’s it like? If you’re wondering… the actual split-second of impact hurts like a mother! More and less depending on the implement. There’s a bit of a thing in hearing the “SWOOSH” of the crop that adds to the glorious excitement of that tool. The spoon is devious (but it has a custom engraving – how sweet – ugh). [SSC: He picked it out and had it engraved…]
But after that split second impact washes over me, a second wave comes running through my head. This second wave is a sharp-edged thing – with a super-charged gooey warm center. The sharp edge is the sting that’s receding, and the goo is this euphoric thing that washes over me.
…and then of course another smack comes along and I have to yank myself back, try to utter and remember the count and get jerked around up and through the whole cycle again – in the span of about a second or a bit less.
I think perhaps it’s a bit like those paddle balls – with the rubber ball on the rubber string and the paddle – it’s like being the ball there. [SSC: I loved that as a kid. Maybe I already was in training.] SMACK! Weeeee…. SMACK! Weeeee as the ball is sent out and back again.
There was no warmup; in fact, this time, since it was all about the infractions, by the time we were headed to warm up territory, we were done. EGAD 60.
So, I largely (except for that damn 17) kept it together and was able to take much more. I suspect that will not exactly be decreasing. Charmer is quite proud of the marks that have persisted for a couple of days now. [SSC: And next time I have promised a photo.] I suspect they’ll be getting more distinct and well-earned.
For some sick, twisted, screwed up reason, which I can’t really get my head wrapped around…
I can’t wait. [SSC: I’m ready…]