So, it’s become a tradition. Well, this is the third year I’ve held a kinky birthday party and been given birthday spankings. Well, birthday beatings to be more precise. It’s something I really enjoy.
And not just the beating. I love gathering together people who mean a lot to me. I enjoy having space and time with just those people I adore. Before my party this year, a group of friends gathered with me for a meal. Some of those people only made it to the meal so I was really grateful to them for taking time to come and celebrate with me. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy and loved.
It was lovely to introduce H to some more of my friends, too. They are such a big part of my life, but because of the way it falls, I often go visit them in Leeds so all my friends have heard much about H but not necessarily met them. It was good to bring these important parts of my world together.
Like, H was visiting Miss T’s for the first time. They’ve heard much about it, as it’s my kinky home from home, but they were visiting for the first time. So I gave them the tour. And of course, they made a beeline for the wall of Miss T’s implements in the dungeon. Found fun things, like whips, tried them out.
Had me stood there with my tongue out and terrified as the whip strikes echoed around me. They also hit me, several times. So within 5 minutes of walking through the door they’d left a whip strike on my left tit.
Not surprising, eh?
After the tour, we curled up on a sofa in the social room and did the conversing thing. I was thoroughly relaxed, thoroughly enjoying being surrounded by my wonderful friends. I turned to H and froze as I heard one of the most terrifying noises. The blade of their knife hissing free. I dropped my gaze and quivered in fear.
You all know, readers, there’s not much that has me genuinely terrified. H’s knife in H’s hand is one of the scariest things I know. I think they might have been showing it off to others because I’m pretty certain they clicked the blade back in place and I breathed again.
But it was opened again not much later and I was back to petrified as they moved it around, then lay the cold blade on the warm flesh of my thigh.
“I could use it to write a lovely birthday message.” They said.
I, being the masochist I am, encouraged them to do so.
The pain of being cut is very focused, intense and quite tickly in a stinging kind of way. The challenge for me is to stay completely still. I can’t jolt, I can’t wriggle, I can’t giggle because any movement could cause H to slice deep into my flesh.
They wrote me a message.
Which I thought was cute and sweet and also stung like fuck. Definitely a good combination in my book. Not long after this marking, H ended up with a meat tenderiser in their hand. And of course, then the meat tenderiser ended up whacked into my thigh as I yelped and screamed and wiggled and laughed.
The laughter was when Hoolio got in on the beats. Hoolio my sweet, soft, owly birthday gift. That H turned into a sadist. I had a wonderfully throbbing (and a lil bit bloody) left thigh at the end of it all. Happy V. Creepy Hoolio. Smiley H.
Who went on to carve my age in my left thigh. Because clearly I’d not remember otherwise. I suppose it came in handy as I came to the official start of my birthday beating.
Now, my left butt cheek was off limits due to something medical but everywhere else was fair game. I had a little warming up from Eris (which I definitely needed) before Lookin got things underway.
With an organ pedal. Well, paddle. Well a paddle made out of an old organ pedal.
Yes. It hurt. It hurt on my butt, my thighs and on my breasts.
And that was the start.
We established early on I wasn’t counting. I can’t count and process pain at the same time. So I left it to others to count for me, Little Snowflake became official spank counter and did a grand job of it.
H, was not to be trusted with the job. As they just kept chanting 1 each time I was hit and as I got more and more frustrated with their bad counting. They just laughed at me.
Did I tell you, H is a meanie?
I can’t remember precise orders and I may leave people out. I apologise. I was taking a lot of pain. But believe me, I enjoyed everyone one of my beatings.
Little snowflake came next with some rope. Now, it looked fairly innocuous, this plaited rope and I was prepared for it to be a bit of a tickle. It was not. It packed a serious punch especially as she chose to hit my back with it. It was lovely though. Scritchy and thumpy, a lovely combination.
Next came Daddy Cuddly bear with not 1, but 2 cricket balls. Cricket balls on handles. Yes. It is as terrifying as it it sounds. More terrifying as they were used on my back too! There was one particular stroke, where both balls hit at the same time where I shot up and shot Daddy Cuddly Bear a death stare. Holy fucking ouch.
I liked those things too.
Then my darling husband stepped up with the Lil’ Fecker. He can be a bit evil when he wants to be. It was weird, I couldn’t take any more of the fecker on my thighs (small, heavy, rubber paddle) so he hit me with the little bastard stick and for a while it was actually a relief! Until the sting of the tiniest cane started to really burn. Both implements are favourites of mine, so thank you Kev, for giving me what I really love.
There was also Lemon Drizzle’s lovely spanker on my thighs. Soft and fluffy on one side and leather and slappy on the other.
And Pyro Punk who I remember hit me with some nice things but I can’t remember quite what…I apologise, my thinking was winding down at this point.
Cute as Sin was brutal, as always. She is such a wonderful meanie. She hit me with a wonderful club, looked like a rounders bat then out came slappy the whale. Oh, it’s such a sweet looking paddle but it is evil and hard and stingy and ouch. I kinda love it though. Even though it made me ‘no no no no no no no’ at last year’s birthday beatings.
Eris hit me with an evil, textured paddle which was amazingly, brutally wonderful…for a while. So she finished her go with scratchy fingernails, that was lovely and a nice break from the brutal. Even if she poked a few times and made me squeal.
I’m pretty certain this was when H asked me if I wanted 41 with the whip or 41 with their body. I wrote about this bit separately. I chose 41 with their body, got to stand up from the spanking bench and got punched and kicked from one end of the dungeon to the other. It was beautifully brutal. We danced together, engaged in communicating love between sadist and masochist.
And they got me water after. I forget how thirsty I get, I’m always appreciative of being kept hydrated!
Maenad of Dionysus came next with one of my favourite hitty things ever. Her venator club is gorgeous and terrifying and hurts so good.
And Maenad is cruel and focussed and hits with deep power that had me yelping and moaning and squeaking my appreciation. She beat my right butt cheek more than anyone else did, then hit my thighs, one then the other and I loved every single hit. I love Maenad being mean to me.
Next came Ric_jh with his cute, friendly….cane. Why was it cute and friendly? It had hello kitty on the handle. That was it. He asked where I wanted it, so I said my front thighs. I took most of the hits there. Ric is always sensual and touchy when we play, I appreciated that connection. I was pretty spaced out by this point and I needed the soft caresses with the pain.
The last few stripes were laid across my breasts and as much as I love the deep sting of canes and the gentle touch of Ric’s hand. I was relieved when the 41 were done.
Then I realised there was only one meanie left.
Earlier I had pointed at him.
“Mr Animal!” I yelled.
“What?” He replied, attempting to sound innocent.
“You have to go last. No breaking my butt before we get started!” Because he broke my butt last year early on in proceedings. I didn’t want a repeat of that.
After this exchange H had crept up behind me and dug their teeth into my shoulder. It hurt. It was glorious. Their bites are vicious and deep and glorious.
I do love being surrounded by sadists. Though birthday beatings happen once a year not just because I only have one birthday but because there’s a limit to how much mean I can take all at once.
So it was Mr Animal’s turn.
H came over and knelt by my head as I settled back on the bench. They held my hand and checked I was okay.
Animal got out the alligator tail. I mean, I love that thing. I do. And I loved it again but my thighs had had many impacts and Animal was hitting the same spot over and over. I was glad when it was done with.
Until he grabbed the Crocodile tail. Crap.
I think I asked him to ease up a bit, as I was seriously in pain. And Animal did, but it still fucking hurt and by the end of 10 with croc I was reaching the edge of what I could take.
H was so good. Holding me, stroking my hair, kissing my head.
“You can do this.” They said. I can’t remember exactly at what point but that reassurance got me through.
Animal used the Mango paddle next. It’s such a little, unassuming thing. Hurts like absolute fuck.
Then the sjambok. Oh, it’s like a cane but the pain grows and goes on and on and on even more than a cane. I managed 3 hits with the sjambok before I said no more.
So the last 8 were taken with the tawse. It’s long, thick, heavy and it is brutal. I was so, so relieved when it was over.
I stayed put a while as they cleaned up my thighs, Animal had broken me again. H stroked my hair, made sure I had a drink, whispered lovely things to me and when I was cleaned up I went straight to check out my butt and thighs in the mirror.
Of course I did.
I went into the social room expecting to cut cake and share it out but after a moment of showing off my marks to those who’d sat assembled in the social room I came over all woozy and I had to sit down.
I managed to lie propped on one side, it wasn’t too painful. H sat with my feet in their lap and Ric_jh sat the other side of me, stroking my hair. H had their hand on my thigh (a bit that didn’t hurt) and I just lay in spaced out ecstasy for a while.
Then demanded cake. And the wonderful Little Snowflake brought me cake. There were more beats, a little later. Hoolio, the owl. You can read about them in the separate writing devoted to him. I think that means I took 13 sets of birthday beatings. 533 individual hits…probably more. I’m pretty certain H got more than their allotted 41 in.
Well, I know they did. If you count the whipping, the biting, the malleting, the cutting, the poking of my ever so sore thighs…but I was happy with that. H hurt me soooooo good.
I loved how they’d stroke their fingers ever so gently over the back of my thighs every now and again and the pain was so intense just from that. I’d moan, whimper, beg them to stop. Wonderful, casual sadism that just melted my heart.
Happy birthday to me. I was spoilt with my favourite things.
Laughter, hugs, love and pain.