What's behind?

From the early days I was always fascinated by extreme situations. Entering into the kinky world presented itself with virtually unlimited possibilities of 'extremes'.

I have been introduced to strangers through roleplays, no just once but more times.
I threw myself into exploration of many different fetishes/play activities including nettles, tabasco, rape and abuse scenes, caning in snow and more I have never written about.

I suppose I do have a little bit of 'tick it on the list' obsession. I thrive on new experiences and I rarely hesitate having an opportunity to explore a new one.

However, despite the love for intense, edgy and extreme scenes I never found myself craving a severe (pain-wise) scene. I simply do not have a severity fetish. I love crying like mad and feeling miserable BECAUSE of the pain, but the truth is, I don't need to be pushed very far to cry. So despite having a very long list of intense scenes I played a 'hard, cold, school-type caning' remained unticked.

Following my recent post on taking a caning stoically my mind carried on with similar fantasies. At the same time I was also reading Abel's stories and one of them ("The Punishment List") blew my kinky mind entirely. Why this one? I'm not really sure. Perhaps because it is so easy to identify with the offences Alice Meadows committed. Anyway, since I read it I was dying to play it out.

It didn't take much convincing to have Abel wanting to play it out too ;). So there I was, my fate sealed. Especially after I have sent him a rather short and concise email:

"I want to play. I want to play the story. And I want to play hard. I don't want you to go easy on me. I don't want you to rush. I want to feel every stroke. And I don't want you to hold back. Please, don't hold back.

There. I have said it. Now I will go away hoping Saturday will never come."

But Saturday did come. My ever pessimistic me was giving me to worst case scenarios. 1st, I will break after the first stroke, collapse on the floor crying and won't be able to play which no doubt would make Abel feel guilty for pushing me so hard. 2nd, I will be crying so badly Abel won't be able stand that and will start going easy on me for which I probably would have felt like killing him.

The idea that I might actually survive 8 cold strokes in touch your toes position, having every stroke repeated and one more added at the end if move out of the position and then a second part of the punishment consisting of the same amount of strokes while bend over the arm of the sofa, did not cross my mind.

And surviving is exactly what I did. I'm not going to go melodramatic saying that I had no idea hard, cold caning get hurt so much. After 4 years of playing and a rather colourful imagination I knew exactly how much a caning can hurt.

What I didn't know is that I can survive it. No words can describe what I felt. I always had this curiosity of what's behind. You know, behind the most extreme pain a person can voluntary submit to. Behind the suffering when you think you will go mad if it won't stop. Behind the pain that pushes you right to the limits of your ability to cope and process it.

It HURT so much. I mean, I know it must have. Actually I don't remember the pain itself (I think my mind blanked it out to protect me). But I know it hurt.
I remember the screams.
I remember crying my eyes out.
I remember digging my fingers into my ankles in the desperate attempt to hold the position (I actually bruised my left ankle).
I remember the madness in my head
I remember felling, KNOWING I can't possibly take another stroke, not to mention another dozen or more.
I remember collapsing on the floor.
I remember choking and gasping for air.
I remember having almost no control over my body and not being able to lift myself up after one of the strokes.

And I do remember surviving somehow.



When the first part of the punishment was over (and I moved out of position only twice) I was asked to put a signature in a punishment book. My hand was shaking so bad I could hardly hold the pen and just when I straightened my body I felt sweat dripping down my spine and between my breasts. The room was fairly chilly.

Then I remember being lectured that if I was just an ordinary schoolgirl that would be the end of the punishment but as I was a head girl the whole punishment was to be re-administered. I remember closing my eyes and soaking and thriving on the fear the news produced. And then, I don't remember anymore what the headmaster said. I drifted away, deep into a headspace so thoroughly I don't even remember how I walk towards the sofa and bent over.

The rest of the caning, as absurdal as it sound was one of the most calming and relaxing experiences of my life. By the end of it Alice was gone and I emerged from the headspace gently and slowly feeling so fucking proud of myself no words will ever be able to describe that either.

I might have been far away from being stoic but the knowledge of how much pain I suffered and survived is a real treasure to me.



First thing that Abel told me was "You were so brave, I know it must have really hurt". Funnily, I was just about to say the same to him. I know it was hard for him too. Seeing me on the floor. Screaming. Crying. A messy and shaking pile of wrinkled clothes, untidy hair and loads of tears. And then watching me struggling to get back into the position and whacking the cane down just as hard...

But he didn't hold back. Thank you so much! :)