Thoughts on the punishment – Part 1 – Ginger Figging

Zille Defeu figging ginger butt plug nal

I have so much to write about last night’s punishment that instead of trying to do one of my epic posts and it taking so long that I don’t post anything for the next three weeks, I’m going to try the mad notion of breaking things up into more manageable posts – crazy talk, I know!

I have so many emotions that I’ll start off with something more simple and basic: facts and thoughts about the new type of ginger butt-plug I made.

It was not an unmitigated success, but it did have a huge successful point in that we were a lot less concerned that we were going to loose the fig inside me, never to see it again. (As happened on Kink.com a while ago!)

However, I am used to carving ginger plugs with one notched area to simulate a butt-plug – and didn’t think about the fact that this time the notched area, which is usually where the sphincter ani internus (internal anal sphincter muscle) grabs aholt of the notch in the ginger, to keep it from sucking on in, or spitting it out (And the fact that I never trusted it for the former, and it didn’t work so great for the latter is why we were trying new methods!), was used by the flange from the cut-down butt-plug, and so the big fail was that I did not make the notched area longer nor make a second notched area....

So my bottom spent the whole punishment happily trying to spit that mean old ginger root right out! (I am pretty sure that actually ginger causes the anus to spasm and expel the burning foreign object from your bottom. I get why it would try to do this, but it’s something that needs to be worked around, because figging is the best punishment in the world. More on that later.)

I’m happy to say that the one worry I had, that the plastic flange would break the ginger did not happen, although this was a thick, tough old root. (We did the world a favour by stuffing it up my bum instead of leaving it for someone to try and cook with!) I should add that because this root was pretty old, it was stringy, which was probably good for tensile strength, but also meant it was very, very strong, intensity-wise.

Mr Defeu did not have it more than one-third up my bottom before the stinging began. I knew I was in serious trouble at that point!

To sum up on the actual fig-plug: yes, cutting the flange off a butt-plug works well, and at least on thicker ginger-roots, does not break it at the notch you have to cut in to hold it there. However, that notch either needs to be lengthened to give the anus room to grab on, as well, or a second notch needs to be put on. Unsure yet which will disturb structural integrity more. I will report back after the next punishment or discipline session in which ginger is used. (I hope soon!)

Okay, more about the experience of the ginger tomorrow!

In the meantime, I just found this blog, and loved the discussion of real punishment and the emotional journey it entails: Bonnie-Jo -- Life of a College Spanko

(Reposted from my blog, to share with my darling PB-ers! I'm such a dork that when I found out I was getting a punishment, one of my thoughts was, "Ohmigawd! I'll have something to post on PB!" [blush])

Posted by on 12 January 2011 at 03:26 PM in Discipline, Education, Implements, Zille | | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)

Toyland

Since I'm writing this on Christmas, the title seemed appropriate.

I've been thinking a lot this week about different implements and the images or feelings they evoke. In my mind, there are some that are very traditionally "domestic discipline" types of implements, and some that I could only put in the "S&M" category -- they "feel" more like a sexualized, eroticized implement, to me, and I don't understand their appeal. Let me explain ...

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Posted by on 25 December 2010 at 09:08 AM in Angie, Discipline, Implements | | Comments (7) | TrackBack (0)

There's a First Time for Everything

(The following post is gonna be a LOT more ... uh ... *sexual, I guess* than I normally write. It's a cross-post from my own blog, and I'm not editing much. I hope that it inspires some discussion about others' first times -- in spanking, that is -- but I didn't want to take the sex that happened off, because it's kind of important to a post that will come later about how I began to know what I wanted as a spanko. Forgive me if it offends your sensitivities. *Hands you smelling salts and a fan*)

Today I was thinking about my first time. I guess for most people (read: Vanillas) the “first time” means when they lost their virginity. I could tell you that story but it’s boring and sad. (Well, that is, except for the fact that I actually had anal before I had the other kind but I do digress …) No, when I say “the first time” I mean spanking, of course. And that story is much more fun.

Like your average, everyday spanko, I believe I was “born this way.” We can have the Nature vs. Nurtue debate some other time, but I was definitely the kid who looked up the word spanking in the dictionary as soon as I could read; remembered every spanking scene I saw on television; and tried to just “happen by” when one of my cousins was getting spanked at a family function — which happened frequently. One of my cousins — who I spent the majority of my youth with, it seems — had a father who made a leather paddle, with holes, and hung it up in the livingroom as a warning to any children considering misbehaving.

I was spanked at home, and no, I didn’t like it — and as I discussed before it always made me feel very unloved and unwanted. OTHER people getting spanked, though, that was awesome. And we would play “House” or “School” in the neighborhood and I would always seek to be the Bad Kid … which I find odd considering how abhorrent I found actually being punished at home. But by my cute, red-headed next-door neighbor boy? Or the older girl up the street? I would tease and taunt and brat like crazy …

So, by the time puberty hit, I was pretty sure there was something seriously wrong with me. There was no Internet then. (Or, maybe there was by then but it was still being used in military or whatever the hell.) When I was 17 I discovered Letters to Penthouse at Borders one day with my high school best friend. Imagine my complete delight at the entire section for bdsm. I dog-eared the several “good” spanking stories. I still wasn’t sure that feeling I was having was an orgasm (though I’d had sex several times by then – stupid teenaged boys) but it was worth doing again anyway.

When I was 19, and getting ready to move to North Carolina for the first time (long story – but the first time “didn’t take”), I was dating a guy who was REALLY into me, and I thought he was very, very nice...

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Posted by on 15 November 2010 at 03:28 PM in Angie, Implements, Musings, Slice of life | | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)

You want to spank me with WHAT?

I've been trying to compose a detailed post catching everyone up on my life, but it's taking too much time and getting too long-winded.  So here's the update: M and I are back together.  And doing very well.  We are reincorporating discipline back into our relationship (though Chris still has disciplinary power too--now I have multiple tops watching me!).  And M has decided that he needs to spank me as close in time to my transgressions as possible.  Which means, given my living quarters, that we need a very quiet implement.

Sigh.  Show of hands: does anyone know what the quietest spanking implement in the world is?

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Posted by on 24 July 2007 at 12:24 AM in Implements, Iris, Slice of life | | Comments (44) | TrackBack (0)