The last few weeks have been so crazy that I never even got to write about the hot scene I did a few weeks ago with Spike_NY. I had posted on FetLife, just for the heck of it, that I wanted someone to spank me while reciting Shakespeare (I get ideas in my head and sometimes I just put them out there. I mean, I’d also love someone to recite poetry to me–something good like Bukowski or Ginsberg; I’d like someone to speak to me only in Italian. What the heck, a comedy routine would be amusing–then again, I sometimes get that when I play with Rad. I don’t think people understand what’s going on when he’s spanking the bejeezus out of me but I’m howling with laughter. We have our own little role plays…)
But in response to my Shakespeare request, Ian of The London Tanners responds on Fet, “Can do–will do it in Spain–Clarence’s speech from Richard III.” I am embarrassed to say I have not read Richard III and I’ve never seen a full production of it.
My introduction to Richard III was Richard Dreyfuss’s over-the-top portrayal in “The Goodbye Girl,” a movie which is over 30 years old, as sappy and tear-inducing as Neil Simon plays/movies tend to be, but I loved it and I loved Richard Dreyfuss in it.
So — what’s “Clarence’s Speech”? Here’s one celebrity impersonator’s interpretation of it. Ian used to be an actor, so this is something he’d probably memorized. It starts “O, I have passed a miserable night, so full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights…” Yes, kind of dark.
I hope Ian has some other Shakespeare memorized for when we get to Spain this fall, because Spike decided that would be a good scene to read while he caned me. Fuck! As always, these things sound good in concept. Spike had me lie on the bed, and he tied my wrists to the foot board. He had all his canes out. He has a lot of canes: Some normal. Some nasty. Some really nasty.
He read the first line and “whoosh!” delivered the first stroke, hard. Yow! He continued reading, one line at a time. “Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower” Thwack! “And was embarked to cross the Bergundy.” Whuuuup!
I’d seen the printed piece before he started. It was long. We were going to be here a while. And, while he’d delivered one stroke per line for the first several lines, suddenly he gave me three fast strokes with the next line. I squealed.
He switched canes every few strokes. He wanted to keep it exciting. I was beginning to get scared. It was a nice experiment but I wasn’t sure I could make it through. Several of the strokes had me howling in pain. He finally said, “I’m not sure I can keep this up. It’s getting hard to read while paying attention to the strokes.”
It’s hard to explain this. I don’t even understand it myself, because while it was happening, I wanted it to stop. I didn’t want any more. It f***ing hurt! But I also didn’t want to quit or utter a safe word. Far be it from me to wimp out half-way through a scene.
Ever the good little masochist, I said, “Would you like me to take over the reading, Sir?”
He agreed, and so I held the paper in my hands (the ones that were still tied to the bed) and continued the piece. “Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wracks … Yowww! … “…a thousand men that fishes gnawed upon … Eeeee!
After a few minutes Spike untied my hands. The passage wasn’t finished. There was still about a fourth of it to go. He told me to turn over. … Oh, shit. He was going to cane the fronts of my thighs. And so, I continued to read in a shaky voice as the fresh strokes landed. I held the paper close to my face, trying not to break down as the strokes seared into an even more painful area of my body than my butt and the backs of my thighs.
I focused on the words and pushed them out, speaking as clearly as I could under the circumstances. “… a legion of foul fiends environed me, and howled in mine ears such hideous cries …” I screamed at the next stroke. But then I caught my breath and kept reading.
When it was over, I relaxed and let him hold me. I was hurting a lot, and felt physically drained, but in a good way. This is the kind of fun scene I can appreciate. It’s not “serious,” but yet it’s a real caning and you can’t help but take it seriously. I still have marks from this scene–two weeks later–to give an idea of how hard he went. It’s not something I’d want anytime again soon. But I loved it for its uniqueness.