I honestly didn't expect this weekend to turn into three posts, but I suppose we did pack a lot of awesome into a few short days, and the memories are just too nice to let them go undocumented. An hour or so after the caning, I started to notice the clock, and it occurred to me that we would all have to say goodbye in the morning. This realization hit me all at once, and I was already more vulnerable than usual after being punished. Suddenly, I felt the tears well up, and I panicked. I'm not sure why, but I really didn't want to break down in front of anyone, so I went for a walk and let myself cry. Thankfully,
thekillingtype came to find me and gave me more of her A+ snuggles, which basically fixed everything. Did I mention how cuddly she is? I want to keep her in my pocket (next to my pocket Picard) and pull her out for cuddles-on-demand all the time!
We returned to the room to find
Malignus waiting for us. I greeted him with puffy, red eyes, sniffles, and a decent amount of poutiness which was most certainly not appreciated. That's actually something I really respect about him. He's immune to my pout, and he doesn't let me get away with much sulking. As much as I want to indulge my sad at times like these, it isn't good for me, and I'm glad he knows it. He's quite attentive to my emotional state, but only if I'm being honest about it and not masking it with something insincere.
thekillingtype went for a walk and left us alone for a little while so we could sort me out. Before long, I'd dropped the gloom and stopped wasting the little time we had together on anything other than being happy. Once that was settled and my world was a few shades brighter, we decided to try something I'd asked him about a few months earlier: faceslapping!
I've been vaguely interested in being slapped across the face for a few years, but recently it's become pervasively fascinating. I really wanted Malignus to slap me, and I'd asked him if he would do it a few months ago. He enthusiastically agreed (because he spoils me)!
He pulled me to my feet. I felt nervous and looked up at him. "What do I do?" I asked awkwardly. He assured me that I didn't have to do anything, so I continued watching his right hand. Suddenly it was on my skin, and I was shocked by the brief, sharp impact. It had a wonderful sting to it without really hurting that much. I liked it. I asked for another. He smiled and assured me that the first was just the test run. I suppose the huge grin I wore said enough regarding how I felt about that. The next thing I knew, his hand was in my hair, tilting my head back, and he slapped me hard. It felt like everything stopped for a moment while I took it in. I felt invigorated. I opened my eyes and looked into his as he guided me down onto the bed and pressed his palm firmly against my sternum. I relaxed and felt the submission settle through me, half drunk with it.
Malignus showed me this picture a few years ago, but recently I've found myself revisiting it.
My favorite part about this image is the look on her face. Despite the caption clearly referring to the man in the photo, I can't help but think she looks even more satisfied than he does. I assume her expression was the product of acting and almost certainly didn't involve an actual slap to the face. Even so, I think I felt like she looks in the moments after he slapped me, and it was powerful, overwhelming, and wonderful. I do believe I like it. :)
Soon thereafter, I was back to my natural state of happy, and we went to find thekillingtype. More snuggles were had, and she and I built a fort because we're cool. It was a good fort, and we were awesome in it. It had been a good couple hours since we'd been hit with stuff though, so there was that unspoken electric feeling that happens when spankings are about to happen.
Thus far, the fronts of our thighs had been relatively spared. Not for long, though. thekillingtype got treated to the cane first, and I watched as Malignus quickly moved the rod up and down the fronts of her little legs, then finished with a few hard strokes. If you've ever seen thekillingtype hit with stuff before, you know what an impressive sight it is to behold. I couldn't take my eyes off of her!
I got mine next, and I found it much easier to take after my little rush of submission earlier. It still hurt as much as one would expect, and as usual, he pushed me to the point where I needed to be before finishing with the hard ones. thekillingtype and I celebrated with more snuggles, and Malignus took this picture of us a few minutes after the ordeal:
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| Caned! |
This picture makes me all sorts of happy. Besides, we're both 5'2" short, so our legs are the same length and we had the same marks from the same dom using the same cane, and that's just too much cute for me to handle without squealing and hopping in place. Before caning us, he'd also applied a thin layer of capsaicin, so we had a lot to be happy about.
To celebrate, we each took one side and massaged Malignus' back. We apparently did a good enough job to convince him to let us be cute, and we then got to do something truly astounding. He let us PAINT CUTE ANIMALS AND HEARTIES ON HIS BACK WITH BATH PAINTS!!! I sort of want to say that again just to make sure everyone understands how important it is. Malignus. Bath paints. Cute animals. He gave me permission to blog about it, but I'm not allowed to post pictures, so you'll just have to use your imagination. I assure you, it's all of the wonderful :D
An hour later, we cleaned the paint off his back and reinspected our marks, which looked like this:
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| We are pretty! |
Unfortunately, I had to leave at 8am, so around 6, Malignus instructed me to pack my bag so we could all cuddle until it was time to go. I did so, with minimal footstomps and brow furrows, and then crawled into bed. After about 15 minutes, I started squirming. The heat from the covers and the capsaicin combined to create an intense burn, and I didn't want to leave! The weekend had been too perfect, and I felt the tears well up again. I cried onto his chest, and he held me tight enough to make me feel safe and secure in the moment. His voice was gentle and encouraged me to be content and enjoy the time we had together. When it was eventually time to go, he took my chin in his hand, looked down into my eyes and told me I was going to be fine because I was his good girl and that's what he wanted. He had me repeat it back to him until I was sure I belonged to him and felt charged with the responsibility of keeping myself happy. He told me he loved me and smacked me again. Such bliss.
I gathered my bags and he walked me to the door. "Tell me I'm not allowed to drop?" I pleaded. "You're not allowed to drop," he assured me. We hugged again, and I held onto him until it was absolutely time to go. Once in the car, I called
TheCaringJoe, and he kept me company as I drove back to the airport. I was about a half a millimeter away from torrential tears for most of the trip. Each time I'd start to slip, he'd remind me that I wasn't allowed to drop, and that I was a good girl for staying positive. By the time I hung up and got on my plane, I was convinced, and I didn't even have to fight with my emotions. I arrived home to the most wonderful husband in the world, who snatched me up as though I would melt if left unsnuggled for more than a few hours.
It's a wonderful thing to be this happy and at the same time feel like a good girl for being that happy.
For the sake of documentation, I took pictures of my bruises as they evolved over the next several days. This may very well be the secret to my post-trip happy. The bruises stay with me, like a hug I can wear and watch heal, changing from pink to purple to blue, green, yellow. It probably sounds strange to some, but these marks keep me company when I resume my vanilla life. They make me feel connected to myself, underneath my clothes, hurting when I sit. I love them. So please enjoy! :)