Posted at 13:55 on 1 May 2008 by Pandora / Blake
Wow, the weather's finally brightened, hasn't it? We had our first picnic of the summer over the weekend, and although the ground was damp and the rain drove us home early in the evening, today is glorious. I'm full of energy. (Who knows, maybe that energy will finally assist me in finishing the new version of my website I'm working on ... it's been a long time in coming.)
There are lots of things I want to write about at the moment - not least the new violent porn bill which was passed last Wednesday. My thoughts on that are taking a while to pull together, so in the meantime I want to return to the subject of back whipping. I touched on this in my previous entry, but I don't really feel like I communicates my feelings about it successfully.
A little while ago, a reader asked me about this by email:
1. What do you think of bare back whipping (see the pictures below)?
2. Take a look at the pictures on the links below. I really enjoy them because of the dynamics between the dominant and the submissive girl in these scenes. Just look at the determination is the eyes of the girls executing the strokes and how the submissive girls are working with their bodies to stand the pain. Pretty nice pictures, don't you think?
After thanking him for the fantastic photos, I replied as follows:
I have an interesting relationship with bare back whipping. On the one hand, it's definitely a part of my real-life play and I enjoy it as a form of punishment. I find it very realistic - it's associated with real, historical punishments and scenarios in my head, and as such it carries an edginess which I find very powerful. Well-executed back flogging can be a powerful, ritualistic thing and I've been known to be put in an altered state of consciousness after a prolongued whipping - the effect it has on the body is extremely powerful, and it can very easily put me into trance!
On the other hand, the physical sensations of back whipping don't have the same erotic charge for me that being punished on my bottom does. It's not that it's not connected to my masochism, because the meditative trance state evoked through back whipping is certainly the result of endorphine stimulation. It's that it connects to my kink in a different way. There's an instant, primal, sexual jolt connected to the idea of being spanked or whipped on my bottom, breasts or thighs. It's a highly erotically charged concept. Back whipping - like hand punishment - doesn't carry that instinctive erotic charge. But like hand punishment, it's a powerful psychological thing. And because the part of the body being punished isn't one which will allow the punishment to be sexually enjoyable on a physical level, the punishment can have a more harsh, non-consensual feel to it. And that's very powerful as well.
I think that comes closer to describing it. It's not that one type of CP connects to my sexual masochism and another doesn't, but rather that they connect to it in very different ways.
Remember my kinky friend who punished me with a quirt he'd made himself? His implement of choice is leather floggers. He has a beautiful collection, in various shades and types of leather, most if not all of them made by himself. He always takes a couple out with him when he goes to play parties or clubs, and most of the kinky girls in our social circle have tasted his florentine flogging at one time or another. Any public scene he plays will draw a crowd, and he invariably receives compliments on the grace and power of his flogging style for the rest of the evening.
During the same evening on which I earned a whipping with the quirt for keeping him waiting and making him late, he also used his floggers on me - a couple of floggers made of soft, heavy, straight-cut leather thongs, and a cat o' nine tails with harsh, plaited leather tails, which he swapped in when he wanted to step things up a notch. This was at the club, long before my punishment later in the night. It wasn't the first time he'd flogged me, but it was the first time he'd done so on a night when I was submitting to him alone, and neither of my Doms were present. Here's what I wrote about it in my personal diary:
The dungeon was crowded and not very well arranged, but we created a space and he put me on the cross for a flogging scene. We'd done this once before (at Torture Garden eight months ago), but I was his tonight and it made all the difference. He's very skilled with floggers. The florentine strokes started light, teasing me, drawing my hips back towards him as I ached for deeper sensations, and then pushing me back with sharper force that left me limp. The crescendo built to tidal waves of sensation that crashed over me. I floated in place, helpless; feeling as if I was being washed up on a shore, like driftwood, again and again. But he never quite let me drown - always catching me as my mind was going blank under the onslaught, soothing me, bringing me down before he started to build up the pace once again. He played me like a puppet and my body danced on the cross.
It ended with a series of blows that built up and up until I felt like I was standing under a waterfall, just letting the unbelievable force of it rain down on me, offering myself up to it. On the last crack between my shoulder blades my whole body sagged and I felt the tears start to flow. He stroked me, soothed my skin and took me into his arms, and I was laughing and crying, almost incredulous at the emotional force of what he'd done to me. It felt like catharsis, like a floodgate in me had been opened, leaving me weightless and shaking and completely blissed out.
Flogging doesn't really tap into my kink in some ways. My masochism responds to it, but it doesn't awaken that desire in me, that serpent uncoiling at the base of my spine, that other forms of CP and BDSM do. It seems almost asexual in some ways: a powerful physical and emotional act, like a meditation or a massage... intimate, deeply submissive and yes, the endorphines flood through me. But the sensations aren't erotic per se. It's subtly other, and I can't explain it. But it's intensely powerful.
I was spaced out for ages after that. I sat on his lap, still topless and the skin of my back hot to the touch, relaxed and happy while he talked to people. He got a lot of compliments and I talked a little about the scene and how it had affected me. We both agreed there had been a very intense connection between us. I remember some of the strokes communicating themselves to me like words, and the arcing of my body in response, like a conversation or like sex. I remember saying his name aloud in my head over and again as I let the pain wash over me.