One of the things I wanted to take advantage of at TASSP was the fact that there’d be spanking tops there, as opposed to BDSM tops. Nothing against the last person I bottomed to — she’s a BDSM top, and we had a great scene — but I wanted a thorough spanking that pushed my limits. I posted my request on the TASSP wish board on Fetlife, and out of the blue a woman messaged me, interested in learning more. We talked a bit and agreed that she would spank me.
She, by the way, is Miss Camomile (spelled that way, without the h), and when I told her I wanted to write about our scene, she said I had permission to use her name.
After a brief meeting to make sure neither of us were serial killers, we went up to Miss Camomile’s room and did a little more negotiation, getting down to specifics. I already knew that she wanted to be the one to remove my clothes when we got to that point, and she already knew that I wanted some time over her knee. We looked at her toys to make sure there wasn’t anything I wanted to veto, and then it was time.
We started with my shorts and underwear on, and the first spanks were light but firm. She was just taking my measure, the same way I do when I spank someone new. We talked a bit during that part, and eventually she started spanking me harder.
It was lovely. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was immensely lucky Miss Camomile reached out to me, because if it felt this good now, I couldn’t even imagine how wonderful it would be when we really got down to it.
Eventually my shorts came off and she started mixing in implements, but kept coming back to hand spanking, which was what I was focused on at the moment. I also found myself getting aroused, which we had discussed, and when I said I would do my best to be polite she assured me that erections happen and she was perfectly okay with them (and in fact enjoyed knowing she was causing one). I knew it wouldn’t last — just like when I’m going down on someone, if I have an erection and my penis isn’t actively being used, the erection goes away. Which isn’t to say that I enjoyed myself any less.
Soon enough, Miss Camomile was taking down my underwear. Her hand on my bare bottom was something else; it hurt, but it was a good hurt, even when she was whacking me as hard as she could. I was feeling exactly what I wanted to be feeling.
Little did I know that it was going to get so much more intense.
We went from OTK to me over some pillows and Miss Camomile started using more implements. I didn’t love all of them, but I was still enjoying the experience, even though I was making a lot more noise. It was interesting how involuntary the sounds were when she was hitting me; I literally couldn’t stop them even if I tried.
I have never safeworded during a scene. Never called yellow or red. But damn did I come close. Miss Camomile caned me a little, and it hurt just as much as you think, but it was her padded cane that hurt worse.
Not as bad as her heavy leather strap, though. I got eight extremely hard licks with that, with space between to breathe, and I made a lot of noise and pounded the side of the bed. It hurt so much — the impact, the burning, the… I don’t know how to describe it. I’m a spanking author, and I can’t describe what these spanks felt like. I just… can’t. I just know it hurt. I didn’t cry — I didn’t even feel like I was close to it — but I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had.
Miss Camomile finished me off with a hard hand spanking, which hurt even more than before because of what she’d already done, and then she took a couple of pictures of my backside for me. I was pretty red, but there were no marks we could see, which was a little disappointing, but I know I almost never mark from a spanking. I was, however, in an enormous amount of pain.
The whole thing was exactly what I wanted: a thorough, heavy, painful spanking from an experienced top, one that I would feel for a while. And I did feel it for a while — every time I sat down or stood up for two full days, and even on Sunday I still felt it when I sat down.
Oh, and on Saturday morning I took a picture of my butt to show my partners and I had bruises! I wish I was comfortable enough with my body to share the picture with you, but you’ll just have to imagine a huge purple bruise right at the bottom center of my ass (she hit me really hard with a paddle) and a group of smaller ones on the top of my left side.
I was so happy. I talked about my beating to anyone who would listen. I thanked Miss Camomile effusively — and assured her that the next time we’re in the same place at the same time she is more than welcome to repeat the performance.
Finally, on an amusing note: Miss Camomile’s style of talking during a scene reminds me very much of the way I do it. As she talked and spanked, I kept thinking: oh, NOW I see what my bottoms are talking about!
Tomorrow: Saturday Spankings!
8 thoughts on “TASSP, Day Two: I get my ass destroyed”
Miss Camomile is awesome. I had an appointment with her in the principal’s office last time I was at TASSP and she paddled my bottom hard and was even nice enough to give me a hug later on. I’m so glad you had such a great experience and a wonderfully sore bottom!
Thanks for sharing your recollection. It’s a special pleasure to get to review a memory from a different perspective. You were a wonderful partner: easy to talk with; clear about what you like, but also a good sport about trying things; responsive. I liked the way we have similarly erotic feelings about spanking, but the scene itself was a spanking scene. I hope we get the opportunity to play together again.
I look forward to us playing again too.
Miss Camomile is truly wonderful, as you found out.
Your description resonates for me as I too have been lucky enough to experience her skills. The initial very light beginning that leads the neophyte to wonder whether the play is going to be too gentle to satisfy; the developing realisation that the increased tempo is delivering what one had wished; next the knowledge that one is in the hands of a consummately talented spanker, being conducted to a destination that is as desired as it is arduous to reach; and finally the breathless arrival at journey’s end, the joy of a completion combined with the wish that it would all go on longer.
And all this is accompanied by Miss Camomile’s charm, her delightful smile (which one senses rather than sees as one’s face is usually pointed down, not up!), her interest and her conversation. It is indeed a privilege to spend time with Miss Camomile.