A few shipping-free copies left…

May 8th, 2012 Posted in asides, Books, Creativity | no comment »

Signed copies of my 2010 “It’s SUPPOSED to Hurt!” are available through this site, shipping free, until my current supply runs out. I only have a few left, so if you haven’t purchased my book yet, grab a copy at a discount now.

This is through my site only, not at Amazon or CreateSpace.com. Click on the  ”add to cart” button below to order. After you order, send me a note (mscassandrapark@gmail.com) letting me know who to sign the book to.

"It's SUPPOSED to Hurt!"
Price: $10.00
Description: Hand-signed copy-- shipping (US only) included till end of the year or till current inventory runs out.
Extra Info: front only CoverPreview.do

 

 

One week later

May 7th, 2012 Posted in BDSM, BDSM scene, Cassandra appearances, Events, Parties | no comment »

One week ago Rad and I were on a boat full of people spanking each other, the culmination (for us) of the Boardwalk Badness Weekend run by the Strictly Spanking NY team (Mike, Jules, Miranda, Mike and others). This was our third BBW and it had to have been the best one for me.

I posted about a bit of an emotional meltdown I had leaving last year’s event. I let things get to me–jealousy and fear–and I just felt like I was back being the fat, unpopular kid I was in school. Basically, some people I thought were going to play with me didn’t.

This year I resolved to have none of that nonsense. I was going to have a good time with my husband, no matter what, and I was going to see many people that I love to hang out with, people traveling from California, Florida, the midwest, the UK. I promised Rad I’d set aside expectations and try to just the moments as they come.

And I ended up having many, many good moments. I hesitate to name names here because I fear leaving someone off the list accidentally. So … I’m not going to.

There were several surprises. One, an old friend from the UK emailed me just before the party to say he would be flying over for the event. I hadn’t seen him in probably two or three years, so we arranged time to play– he loves the cane, and we had a great scene with myself and a California girlfriend co-bottoming to him.

Next, a friend from California whom I’d not seen in a year or two turned up at the party. I was so thrilled. Those who know some of the long-time players in the community will recognize him when I say he has some of the best spanking hands in the business and he’s fabulous with a strap. I’ve always liked our scenes and liked him as a person. Our scene this time was very personal for me. I have to be somewhat vague here because I don’t like revealing too much of others’ personal information or private conversations. I’ll put it this way: Many times when I bottom to a “popular” top, I feel I am just one of  many women going to him for a spanking. It’s hard to feel special, especially when you live far away from someone and your interaction may be limited to one or two hours once a year at a spanking party. But he made me feel special during our scene. He made me feel that I was the counterpart to the discipline he loved to dish out.

I do admit I love discipline play. And I love a hard belting, especially when it starts to get rough and my top makes me take it.

I switched all weekend, and I was impressed by the number of sexy male bottoms at this party. It does not hurt to be turned on when you’re spanking someone. More and more I feel a desire to top just because I’m attracted to someone and want to hurt him. Wanting to hurt someone CAN be a form of intimacy, you know. (lol!)

I’m going to wrap this up because it’s past my bedtime, but I’ll try to write more tomorrow about the party and some more special moments.

Now available through my online store

May 5th, 2012 Posted in CafePress store, Creativity, t-shirts | no comment »

To make it easier to provide all styles and types of my original t-shirts, I’ve opened up a CafePress store. I am hoping to continue to sell hand-made shirts where possible, because I enjoy doing it and because I can keep prices low. I’m limited in what I can charge on CafePress because of their base prices for the materials, but I’m not going much over that, in order to keep products reasonably priced. If you have any suggestions for new items that you’d like to see (currently I’m only selling t-shirts, mugs and shot glasses), just shoot me an email.

Ductified

Apr 22nd, 2012 Posted in BDSM, BDSM scene, Bondage, Duct tape, sub space | no comment »

I watched Tantelle duct tape a sub at a Wicked NY party about a month or so back, and it just looked so incredible. First of all, it was like a work of art. Click here to see her other work. Secondly, her sub looked so relaxed, so peaceful in his snug cocoon. She and I started talking about the possibility of doing our own duct tape scene. Tantelle, who is adorable but evil, usually plays with boys.  I was flattered when she said she’d be interested in playing with me. When I saw that she was going to the RACK party on Friday night (a party hosted by ElRamon at a space in midtown Manhattan), I asked if that might be a good night … and she said she’d love to. Yay!

She said if I wanted to make things more festive I could find colored and patterned duct tape at Michael’s Arts & Crafts. I drove over on Thursday night and indeed, there was a selection. I chose a very pretty paint-splatter design. Other options were an orange-red fiery pattern and pink-polka dots. The skulls and the camouflage patterns weren’t calling me.

The space was really nice, with lots of big rooms to play in — even a rooftop available for our use, if we desired. We initially considered doing the scene out there, but then it started raining lightly.

What made things even more interesting was that there was a young male sub who was going to be topped by a male top, and my fellow sub was going to be duct taped, too. I think it was a first for me — being topped by a woman while a guy topped another guy right next to us. The male top was gay; I’m pretty sure his victim was not, but he was a totally fun, bratty pain slut (I like that) and took a lot of torture on top of the severe bondage. I was uncertain how much pain I could take while encased in the duct tape. I’m always up for pain, but I didn’t know how my breathing was going to be affected, and I knew my body temperature would rise and would affect things as well.

Tantelle and the male top shared a roll of plastic wrap, passing it back and forth between them. She wrapped my midsection first, having me cross my arms across my chest like an Egyptian mummy. Oh, yes, in case anyone didn’t realize — there was a plastic wrap base to the duct tape. I have had duct tape on my bare skin before–over my mouth, and used on wrists, ankles, or thighs as bondage–but over my entire body is another story. I suppose I could have taken it — but that’s a pain I was not looking for. I was looking for the feeling of tightness all over, the snug secure casing. On my hair she used a disposable shower cap.

I’ve done plastic wrap play before, never completely head to toe, but once or twice over most of my body. You get hot really fast because normally your skin acts as a temperature regulator, you release moisture through perspiration even when you don’t notice it; it evaporates quickly. Hydration is very important. It’s funny; I didn’t want to drink too much beforehand because I was afraid I’d have the urge to pee. But I had to drink something, and Tantelle also suggested I have a drink standing by for additional hydration later.

I’m going to be totally honest here and say I do not know what length of time is considered safe to stay in the wrap. I know they do not recommend plastic wraps or suits for weight loss. Wrestlers trying to lose weight to make their class have died using this method. But they are running and doing crazy shit. I was standing still.

Still, Tantelle had safety shears ready to cut me out quickly. I was certainly going to speak up if I felt too hot to take it any more. There were a few moments where just turning my head to try watch the scene next to me caused me to feel lightheaded. I briefly wondered if I would faint. I’ve never fainted in my entire life so I didn’t think so. But I gave up trying to see what was happening, and just closed my eyes and relaxed.

When Tantelle began to cover my head and face, she stuck some ice cubes under the shower cap to cool me down a bit. That definitely helped. By the time my whole head was covered I felt my body had adjusted to the pressure and the warmth. She left my mouth and nose uncovered, obviously. Although ambient sound was muffled slightly, I could still hear through the tape. I could hear conversations but I was catching bits and pieces only. I was floating off somewhere.

The “abuse” of the subby boy next to me continued and I just smiled at his occasional screams because I knew he was getting good attention and he was getting what he needed. When a friend, Dr. Charley, joined in his torture it was even more fun. From elsewhere in the room and in other rooms, I heard occasional laughter or the screams and yelps of other scenes going on. The party had incredible energy. Before and after my scene I saw several very intense sessions going on. Catching the tail end of Sir Magus Romello topping young Parafoxy was really, really hot. I had missed the suspension earlier between Parafoxy and Spike_NY.

After Tantelle finished my head, then leaned me back onto the couch and wrapped my feet. Head to toe–just what I’d sought. I had told Spike_NY that I wasn’t opposed to him poking or playing with me once I’d been wrapped, but when he tried a few things (for instance, he whacked my thighs twice with what felt like an “evil stick”) I knew I couldn’t do it. I suppose I could have taken it, but part of me was afraid that if I struggled I’d get too overheated, and the other part just wanted to settle into my cocoon and drift for awhile. He was totally cool and backed off. But I was glad he and other friends were there as witnesses (and I was happy the party organizers allowed him to take pics!)

Tantelle stayed with me and watched me; she occasionally took a cold glass of liquid and ran it over my lips to cool me down. I don’t know how long I was inside. I fell asleep for at least a few minutes. It was a freaky feeling. I suppose, if it comes down to it, I was not only being cocooned but was letting myself be reduced into an object for that length of time when I was covered. And I don’t know why, but I like that.

I am a lucky girl that I have friends who are willing to explore things with me and do certain types of play. I do not need to do or try anything. As I get older, there will be fewer things that I can do, fewer types of play that I can handle, I’m sure. But I’m going to do what I like for now, as long as I can find someone who wants to do it to me.

How’d I get here? or, “Don’t make me take off this belt…”

Mar 29th, 2012 Posted in BDSM | 4 comments »

The spanking Special Interest Group at the TES meeting last night was very interesting. I hadn’t expected there to be so much discussion about childhood and the origins of why we do what we do. But, there it was. Some people said they were never spanked as children, but felt titillated and curious when they heard or saw it happening to others (this was a typical Catholic school experience for some of us in certain generations … I’m only in my 40s, but there WAS still corporal punishment in school when I attended, even, to a smaller degree, in high school). Others found themselves being disturbingly turned on when seeing it happen to a brother or sister. You’re not supposed to be having these feelings, right?

To me, when it happened to a brother or sister, I felt sorry for the person … and scared; I was always scared that I would be next. Did I finish putting the dishes away? Did I remember to sweep the bathroom floor when it was my turn to clean the bathroom?

In my own background, I had the Catholic school experience combined with a strict religious upbringing at home and a rather prone-to-violence father. I was a good girl in school and was never hit by the nuns, but that was a byproduct of my fear of them combined with my fear of my dad and … the ultimate fear of God and eternal punishment. It’s kind of fucked up to think if you have a fight with your little sister and don’t make it to confession before the proverbial bus runs you down, you’ll end up in hell … but there it is. Be good or else.

The weird thing is that a lot of stuff my dad did has morphed into some of my favorite, most exciting kinds of play. Ie, seeing a top rip off his belt and whip me with it, or having my face slapped. I haven’t told too many people this, but my dad also enforced this weird punishment where we had to kneel facing the wall, for a set amount of time … 15 minutes, half an hour … we were not allowed to talk or sit back on our heels, we had to be kneeling up. It hurt after a while, being up on your knees on a hard wood floor. I guess this was like a time-out situation; within my huge family there tended to be a lot of fighting. A lot of spankos like the “standing in the corner” ritual, which reminds me of the kneeling punishment. I know of some who will play with other toys but cannot used an implement that was used on them growing up. We are all different and take different paths. I’m guessing that my play has helped me heal by facing those old fears and becoming stronger.

My dad was a rage-a-holic; there was never any predicting when he would lash out, and you could follow what rules you knew how to follow but sometimes there was just no avoiding the repercussions. A lot of walking on eggshelves, to say the least.

My kink, I believe, has a lot to do with that upbringing. It took a long time to get over the internal guilt I carried around. My early sexual life (as an unmarried woman) generated massive guilt in me, and, as I shared last night, it wasn’t until someone spanked me during sex — ie, punished me — that I could relax and enjoy myself. The punishment, I’ve realized, has become a fetish in itself.

Over many years of work with therapists and just working on myself, I don’t believe I need to be punished anymore. But I do like the fantasy and the little fear that still arises. Fear, pain, being controlled, being made to take the spanking, are all a big package for me. Yes, I can walk up to a friend and simply say, “I could use a good belting, are you in the mood to deliver one?” and that would be fine — I’ve actually done that a lot. But the deep, emotionally satisfying, catharsis-inducing scenes tend to be a little more … rough and scary. These are the ones where I really put myself into a trusted top’s hands and let go of my own control. A power exchange, as they say.

The “father figures” and other types of doms I’ve met throughout my years in the scene have been good to me. I can’t count the number of times I’ve taken a serious thrashing to the point of screaming and begging … they know me … only to end up talking for hours afterward, cuddling, watching a movie together, etc. There may or may not be sex; that’s not the main point for me. I am OK. I am not bad. It is just something we do … my top gets as much out of it as I do on the bottom … and I am back to being his equal afterward.

That part, the aftercare, was not an experience I knew about from childhood. I shared last night about the scene in the Laura Ingalls Wilder book, “Little House in the Big Woods” (the first in the series). There’s a part where Pa straps Laura for hitting her older sister Mary. Mary, who has blonde hair, had been making fun of Laura’s brown hair. Pa punishes Laura, but afterward holds her while she’s crying. He tells her he loves her brown hair — that he has brown hair himself and that Laura’s hair is beautiful. It’s so touching. He feels he must punish her, but still needs to make sure she knows she is loved.

My aftercare growing up was … let’s pretend that never happened … you keep being “good” and you won’t get hit again. Now I get the comforting aftercare, the “love” that wasn’t expressed so much back then.

I do have to laugh because I credit my father with making me kinky. We get along reasonably well these days, but I don’t forget what it was like, and I never do talk to him about anything emotional. God forbid he ever found out how I spend a lot of my free time … jeez, if he knew, he might use the belt on me… OK, I’m not going there.