Posted at 13:42 on 14 May 2012 by Pandora / Blake
My bottom is sore. For once, this is not because it has been spanked a lot recently. I've been too full of cold, and too busy trying to catch up with work as a result, to play much these last two weeks. D warmed my bottom before I left his today, as is right and correct, but that was the first time in over a fortnight.
No: my bottom is sore because I'm stupid.
My housemate was away last week. Revelling in having our new flat to myself, I permitted myself the self-indulgence of having the heating on all evening, luxuriating in the freedom of doing so without her worrying about the bill. A little while later I brushed past the heated towel rail in our small-but-perfectly-formed bathroom. Oh, I thought, that's a bit hot.
I put some aloe vera gel on the pink mark and went back to work. Twenty minutes later it started to feel like I was slightly burned, and I thought perhaps I should put some ice on it.
Three hours later, I was on my third bag of frozen veg and the side of my left buttock looked rather like someone had pressed a hot iron against it.
Having run out of frozen peas I paused the ice treatment for a bit. Ten minutes later it had started to blister, all along my stretch marks. Niiiiice. After a brief panic (watching your flesh bubble in front of your eyes is not good for peace of mind) I tipped a bunch of icecubes into a bag and continued the ice treatment. It took another two hours to get under control.
So that was exciting!
Meanwhile, my primary concern was the shoot I had booked for the next lunchtime: a "meet the model" session at a local camera club doing portrait and figure work. I would say that my timing is appalling in the way I manage to injure or bruise myself before shoots, but actually I think the truth is that I'm just too accident-prone to be a model. I run around a lot and pick up heavy things and at any given moment my priority is getting things done efficiently rather than worrying about breaking a nail, but I'm also just plain clumsy. Marks from spanking are rarely the problem: it's the bruises I collect on my shins from dragging kit around; the ones on my thighs from bumping into furniture without noticing, etc etc. This was more dramatic than usual, but it wasn't the first time. Not very professional!
I called the camera club, and the guy at reception asked it I could put makeup on it, which sounded like an infection waiting to happen, so I said no, sorry, I didn't think so: should I try and find someone to cover for me? (I was quite proud of my restraint in not screeching NO IT'S A GIANT BLISTER WHAT DO YOU THINK.) They held these shoots every week, after all, and I'd just been picked at random out of the book; as long as they had a model it didn't really matter who it was.
Thank fuck for Twitter, is all I can say. Within the hour a lovely London model had offered to stand in for me, and I could stop worrying and go to bed. Thankyou @spankaliciousx for quite literally saving my ass. After a night of careful sleep and liberal applications of aloe the blistering seemed under control, although it was all still fairly lurid and nude-photo-ruining.
Two entertaining things have come out of this (in retrospect hilarious) incident. The first is that everyone I've told about it has shared their own best non-spanking-related butt injuries, which range from the serious (falling off a horse) to the sublime (accidentally sitting on a lit candle during a sex party). Alex in Spankingland consoled me with tales of the time a car drove into her butt, the aftermath of which is apparently remarkably similar to spanking, and another friend's story of a piece being taken out of her bottom by some falling MDF reminded me of my own Worst Butt Injury Ever: being bitten by a farm dog, who took a chunk out of my four-year-old bottom which took months to heal but, thankfully, didn't leave a permanent scar.
I don't know why being told other people's horror stories always helps when you've injured yourself, but it never fails to cheer me up.
The other hilarious thing about this whole event is this: Tom, bless him, managed to wrench his right shoulder the other weekend doing something entirely unrelated. So we have, in absentia and without any spanking being involved whatsoever, managed to scorch my bottom and strain his right shoulder. And he was topping for Nimue's World on Thursday. Absolutely perfect, you couldn't make it up. At least he didn't have to cancel, like (ahem) Some People.
Frankly, I think that as soon as we're both recovered we have some catching up to do on the spanking front, for karma's sake if nothing else.