While I’m tempted, I’m not going to say I won the Battle of the Bruise. I am historically difficult to mark. Over decades of BDSM play, this has frustrated many tops. I’m also very difficult to color. According to Mrs. Lion’s post yesterday, “His Unbruised Butt: An Exercise In Futility” she has decided that when she punishes me, it will be what I feel while she is spanking me, not what I might feel the next day that matters.
Bruising during a spanking is a controversial subject. A bruise signals broken capillaries under the skin. It’s generally associated with deeper injuries. One of the reasons a paddle is preferred for spanking is because the forces are distributed over a fairly wide area. A cane, for example, focuses all of the force on a very small area of skin. It’s extremely likely to leave a lasting mark. The usual aftereffect of caning is stripes of red and black and blue on the butt. The skill of the person delivering those blows is often measured by how evenly spaced the stripes are and how parallel they are placed. It’s common for a top to make her bottom display his butt to friends to show off the quality of her work.
The quality of paddling is generally measured by how deep red the bottom becomes and how evenly distributed this red is across the spanked surface. Over the years, Mrs. Lion has attempted to photograph my bottom when she’s finished spanking me. So far, I barely looked pink. I’ve yet to see the deep red color. Maybe next time she disciplines me she can take a picture. Perhaps the color will show. I don’t dispute her description. It certainly feels deep red to me.
If her approach is now focused on making me thoroughly unhappy during the spanking, I imagine that means I can expect longer and harder sessions. Certainly, Friday night’s session was incredibly painful for me. I went from yelping to wailing. Mrs. Lion was clearly uninterested in what sounds I made. I did wriggle a bit more than I probably should. I couldn’t help it. I don’t want to have that experience again anytime soon. I know, as she says, that’s the point.
Something else seems to be happening. I’m down to the last card in the Box O’ Fun. It calls for Icy Hot on my balls. On Friday night, Mrs. Lion didn’t feel particularly inclined to do this. I wasn’t all that interested myself. I asked her if getting any sexual fun was connected to suffering through Icy Hot? She said it wasn’t. Nevertheless, for the second night in a row, there was no sexual contact. For the record, I didn’t mind. It’s only been a couple of days since my last orgasm and I wasn’t feeling particularly cheerful an hour after my beating. Still, I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t an unconscious connection: no penalty, no sex.
That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. As we discussed in an earlier post, perhaps suffering through a penalty from the Box is the toll I have to pay for sexual attention. I wonder if that wasn’t in the back of my mind on Friday night. I suppose that means it’s time to grit my teeth and feel my balls roasting to earn some nice sexual attention. I am okay with that. Bring on the Icy Hot!