Facing my demon…and winning

March 31, 2019

Tapas. It is one of those experiences at Kinky Kollege that I truly look forward to. It is an opportunity to try new things that I otherwise might not get the opportunity to experience. It was fun the way it is meant to be and then I faced my demon. 

I knew it was a fear…I got in line knowing that it would be scary to be face to face with a man holding a cane. I was previously traumatized by a cane. I endured a non-consensual brutal (brutal to me…not so much to those who enjoy this kind of play) caning several months ago. It left me deeply bruised to the inner thigh and tit. I know that this is a sort of play that many thoroughly enjoy but I didn’t want it. I am a girl who enjoys pain during play but I am also a girl who needs to be with a Dominant who understands my need for a gentle touch and nurturing warm up that builds to the pain that I need to let go of my stress, emotions and thoughts. I unfortunately now know what a very hard strike with a cane feels like, in the form of unearned punishment and I am petrified of enduring it again. 

I stepped into the line with my besties, fully expecting to be nervous. I took one look at the table, with several canes of varying sizes displayed on it, and my heartrate increased, I was having trouble catching my breath, I was shaking and the tears silently rolled down my face. I was comforted by one of my besties and my protector as I watched my other bestie enjoy the caning demonstration skillfully delivered by a trusted friend and Dominant. I watched and felt my anxiety grow to levels that I didn’t expect to feel. I was experiencing a full panic attack and I felt weak and pathetic. 

I was approached by my friend, the one providing the demonstration opportunity. He helped me to breathe and encouraged me to let him help me fight my demon. I knew that that this implement did not have to be used brutally. I needed to feel that it didn’t’ have to be awful and traumatizing. I cried…I removed my dress and shakily climbed onto the spanking bench. Light taps…pain level barely a 2. I obviously could handle so much more across my ass but I still felt scared. He talked to me, helped me think about how low the pain level was and that I could handle a 4. I said yes, I wanted to feel a 4…it stung but it wasn’t that bad. OK…I am ready to feel a 6. Fuuuck…that stung and he made me laugh as he admitted it was probably a 6.25 so I could probably handle a 7…which, of course was a 7.75…making me prepared for the 8. This stung like a motherfucker and I felt like I had enough. I wasn’t panicked anymore. I felt ok..I did it!

Then I realized that I wasn’t done. I was now sitting instead of kneeling, wearing nothing but my panties, and I was going to feel the cane across my thigh. Once on each leg. I panicked….this is my trigger. I remembered being told to kneel with my knees apart and feeling that cane strike me at a 10/10 six times in rapid succession to my right inner thigh. I started shaking…crying but I didn’t move. I was reassured that it would be ok. It was. He waited until I said I was ready…strike one to the left leg…yes, it stung like hell but it was tolerable. I could see the stripe immediately. A few deep breaths and I nodded to accept the second one to the right thigh…with that snap of the cane…I felt my strength come back. I was shaking… tears ran down my face…but I felt strong. I faced my demon and I won. I showed that motherfucker that I am fucking resilient and will not be controlled by my fear anymore. I hugged my friend and thanked him for what he had done. 

A non-consensual caning after 10 days of healing…
A lovingly given cane strike a day after it was given.

It is amazing to me…the emotions that I feel when I look at these two photos…the same tool was used yet such drastic feelings that they evoke from my core.

Tonight, I am home, reflecting on my KK experience. I have a bruised stripe on each thigh and the sight of the lines do not make me feel panicked. They make me feel pride. He saved me from myself. He gave me a piece of myself back. The piece that was broken…the piece that I thought had been healed by time. Instead, it was healed with the help of friends and a cane in the skillful hand of a sadist that I trust with all of my being. You don’t find friends like that everyday and I am so thankful for his willingness to help me.