I recently published a cold caning video in which I bent over for twelve hard strokes from Paul Kennedy. Paul is one of my favourite caners. He has a wonderful calm, stern manner which really puts me into the right headspace when we're roleplaying, and his use of the cane is expert, administering precisely calibrated, accurate strokes.
Few people are able to land twelve strokes of the cane that leave perfectly parallel lines, evenly imprinted across both buttocks and perfectly spaced from top to bottom of my preferred spanking zone. He enjoys aiming low strokes to land just above my crease - or even exactly on it - as much as I love receiving them, and he has a lovely habit of saving the best, hardest, lowest strokes til last. Caning perfection.
Anyway, it seems that several of you liked this scene as much as I enjoyed filming it, which makes me happy. One commenter asked:
I actually think that this needs a blog post, but in any case what I would like to know is what was going through your mind as you were reaching for your toes? "Now this will all be over in a week or so," or "What on Earth was I thinking," or "I need to get milk the next time I go shopping," or something else.
Good question! Let me mentally rewind, and imagine myself back in that room, bending over and nervously anticipating the first stroke...
Ugh, I wish I could touch my toes properly. I need to do more yoga. Okay, breathe through the pain in my hamstrings, concentrate on bending at the hip. That's as low as I can go. I guess it'll have to do.
I hope the cameras are all lined up correctly. No it's fine - we just set up the shot with my bending over, and James and Alex are keeping an eye on it. They'll let me know if something's not right. Relax, Pandora.
Oh gosh, this is going to hurt. I'd better be brave or my members will think I can't take it. But it'll be worth it - the marks will be really pretty. At least I hope so. I hope Paul does it hard enough. I asked him to be severe. If it's not hard enough to leave nice marks this will all have been for nothing.
Okay, breathe, breathe. Come on, Pandora, you've done this before. You can take it. Easy peasy. You love the cane. Okay, Paul is lining up the first stroke. Breathe in. Slowly. Count to four. And... just as I can hear the cane swishing down... breathe out. And there it is. Ow. Keep exhaling. Nice and slow. Good girl. Okay, ow, ow, ow. That really fucking hurts.
Come on, you can do this. Let it out. A bit of reaction is good for the video. You can make a bit of fuss. That's it.
Oh god, that's actually getting worse, it's getting more painful by the second. Can I really take eleven more of these? What the hell was I thinking?
As it turns out, I could take them. It helped that we cut after six strokes to change James' shot, and I admit I was not at all disappointed to have a minute to catch my breath!
The first six strokes were hard to take. The second landed higher than is pleasurable for me, and I jumped up and clutched my bottom, relieved that this wasn't a scene where I had to be completely stoic. Reacting physically and vocally to a caning really helps me process the pain. The next four weren't as high on my bottom, and that made them easier for me to take.
After six strokes and a breather, my endorphins had kicked in. The last six therefore felt delicious. Deep, thuddy impacts that made me groan with satisfaction. My breathing exercises moved me into a meditative, calm, floaty space where I ws glad I didn't have to think of any lines of dialogue, and could just be present in my body, in the moment, totally immersed in the intense sensations of a slow, hard caning.
By the end, those low, hard strokes on my crease were so erotically pleasurable that I had to focus on sounding like I was in pain, and not just deeply aroused. Somehow I figured that letting my natural, giggly moans of pleasure surface wouldn't quite have fit the mood of an office punishment scene...
So now you know what I was thinking as I bent over and touched my toes for a cold caning. Was it anything like what you expected?