Cassandra Park

I posted some pics on FetLife from the session I did on Sunday with my former Dom, Richard (Spike_NY on FetLife). And I wanted to share them here, as well. It is now Tuesday morning and I’m still processing the scene, and still buzzing a little bit from it.

Spike and I played very briefly at a party last weekend, but we hadn’t played privately since December, since we decided to call our D/s relationship quits. I know I haven’t talked that much about that, either, because I wasn’t ready to say much in public. Truth is, things are going well. We are still talking a lot, but no one’s pressuring anyone else. I think we are really morphing into a good friendship. My feelings of jealousy about his other play partner/sub are dissipating as well. I don’t have to share in public now, and it makes it so much easier. It wasn’t even sharing play that had bothered me, it was a feeling that my submission wasn’t special. Truth is, his other girl likes some kinds of play that I don’t enjoy, and vice versa.

I like pain, I like being pushed into taking pain. The clothespins on my inner thighs and labia hurt, but after the initial pinch they melded into a mild throbbing. It’s hard to tell from this pic, but he’d put me into a straight jacket and had put a leather hood over my head, which buckled securely on. He blindfolded me and then shoved a leather gag into my mouth.

I think my scream were pretty audible, even through the gag, when he began to whip my inner thighs and pussy. He was using this thing called a dragon’s tongue, which feels very much like a single tail (I had thought it was a single tail, until he told me later). The pain is very harsh, very much like the single tail whip. Maybe technically it’s wrong to call a dragon’s tail a “whip,” but I was, in effect, being whipped, on a very, very sensitive part of my anatomy.

I was already sore. Prior to this segment of our play date, he’d used a hairbrush and a bathbrush on my ass. Yes, yes, I’m “into” domestic discipline, I’m “into” spanking. As anyone who’s into spanking knows, the hairbrush alone can be one of the nastiest toys around. I personally find it harder to take than a caning. My brush was hard, polished wood, with a slightly convex surface, so that the point of impact is very very small and concentrated. When he switched to the bath brush the impact increased. That implement is thicker and has a longer handle to allow much harder strokes. Spike used it on me while I was making his bed (he likes me to do a few chores when I visit) and it felt brutal.

He laughed and says, “Don’t be a baby!” This is a phrase he’s used a lot in our play, so I actually made him a t-shirt with that saying on it — and he was wearing it on Sunday, to my amusement. My amusement had left the building, however, during the bath brushing. I know he doesn’t really think that I’m a baby. I can actually take quite a bit. I just don’t often take it quietly. I can’t say there’s ever been an occasion that I’ve taken a bath brushing quietly. I will yelp and twitch and eventually cry or scream if pushed hard and long enough. His was a tease, he pushed me just enough to have me jumping and crying out, but then let me focus on finishing up the bed.

The straightjacket, the clothespins, the dragon tail were what he’d planned as the main course. … um, oh, yeah, there was this little bit of knife play first.
This was a sharp knife. He poked me with it a few times, inspiring some vocalizing on my part. I was already bound in position on the bed but had some mobility. I froze when I felt his fingers inside me, guiding it into my pussy. He told me later he only pushed it as far as his fingers could reach. Then he says, “Don’t move.” I was breathing softly. Moving was the last thing I wanted to do. He took a few pictures. (I appreciate that; it’s nice to have memories of intense scenes). I remember at the time thinking in my head, “I wish he would use the knife after he takes it out. I wish he would carve his initials, or maybe “Sir,” onto my stomach or thigh. I think a lot of things when I’m that floating subby place.

I’ll continue this shortly with more details about the whipping and what followed…

This morning I am heading back to the “real world,” my job, temp though it is, it does pay the bills. I am armed with cough drops, cough syrup, generic Musinex, Tylenol, my next dose of antibiotic and my water bottle, as I must get plenty of fluids.

I know it’s ridiculous to write so much about being sick, but this has practically destroyed any desire for BDSM or spanking play the last couple of days, so it’s hard to focus on a kinky topic.

I will say that I know I’ll have a resurgence. Maybe this’ll happen by the weekend. Rad & I were talking about a trip to Maryland to visit spanko friends and attend a party on Saturday night. I think I may pass on traveling this weekend, however. I want to be fully recovered. Locally, it will be OTK night at Paddles so maybe we’ll make an appearance there. But i was also invited to a birthday party. Choices…

After that, who knows? I haven’t gone to a scene party (non-spanking) without my Dom yet, and I may have to test the waters soon. I missed being in sub mode on New Year’s Eve, although, in a funny way, I’ve been in subby/little girl mode the last five days or so as my “Daddy” (Rad) has taken care of me and made sure I was taking my medicine.

I need more than that, of course. But all in good time. No need to rush.

I’m not going to go into all the minutia but for those who didn’t know, my Dom and I have agreed to end our D/s relationship, for a variety of reasons. This happened a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to write about it till now.

In a general way, it was because our respective needs and desires were in conflict. And also because other relationships (my husband, my Dom’s other play partner) , made it hard for each of us to give the other person enough. I think in an ideal world a person can have multiple play partners or subs or Doms, but when individual personalities converge, it’s not so easy.

For one thing, my husband and my Dom could never be in the same place. There was tension between them. We tried, but we finally had to agree that my Dom would not attend spanking parties and that my husband, Rad, would not attend other scene parties that I attended with my Dom. This meant that if I wanted to go to an event, it would mean either less time with my husband or less time with my Dom.  There were always conflicts. I always had to make decisions.

I didn’t come into the D/s relationship expecting it to be romantic, although I think a Dom/sub connection always is a bit romantic and a bit sexual. When your fantasies involve pain, you do not need to be sexual for it to be sexual. Which isn’t to say we weren’t. It involved some romance, some sexuality, some friendship, some pain, some loss of control.

And as wonderful giving up control can feel, the power exchange also left me feeling anxious, insecure and vulnerable when things didn’t go as planned. When he started dating someone new last February, right when I was starting to feel very close to him, it hurt. A lot of his attention was suddenly elsewhere and I had to struggle with my jealousies. He was single and wanted to date–I had no right to tell him not to; I had to accept it. I did the best I could. But I won’t lie and say I was sad when the relationship ended. I now felt I had his attention back and things DID start getting pretty good over the next several months.

Through everything, I wanted to feel special. I wanted to feel that my submission was special. When he started playing with another sub a few months ago, I no longer felt special. I struggled with my jealousy, I struggled with our intimacy, I also struggled with the feeling that I wasn’t being told all the details. At public events I suddenly had to be part of a matching set. Often if he touched me, he touched her. If he put his arm around her, he put his arm around me. I didn’t like it. I never was given the opportunity to get to know her; it happened so fast. It felt as if they already knew each other pretty well and I would have to try to catch up. I never knew what to say at that point. “How’s it going with the submission?” “Does he _____ your ____, too?” “How do you like it when he does ____?” Anything along those lines seemed really awkward.

Along with all those feelings was the feeling that I wasn’t being a good sub when I got jealous. But I was a good sub. I was obedient, I followed protocols, I tried to accept whatever pain he wanted me to submit to. But I couldn’t deal with the idea of submitting in front of her, or watching her submit in front of me, possibly taking more than I could take. I found out that she enjoyed a particular type of play that I had trouble handling. On the one hand, it was sort of a relief that I didn’t have to try to accept this type of pain anymore. On the other hand, I was pretty sure that he did the same things to her that he did to me, PLUS this type of play, so I felt she had an advantage. He would tell me I was still number one, but I no longer felt that way.

There were a few other things that happened, which I can’t go into detail about on my blog, and I finally decided I had to stop. It was getting too painful.

I am left feeling a little lost. I really enjoyed following his orders and the rituals and the protocols, and we usually had a great time together. I’m not saying I HAVE to be the only sub in a relationship, I just don’t know to do it. I know some people can handle being one of several subs quite well. Maybe things should have happened differently. Maybe if I’d known more up front it would have been easier. Who knows? Maybe my next Dom will have to be a married man–whose wife either knows or is in the scene–so there isn’t so much of an emotional/romantic feel to things. But I’m not looking right now; I’m only scheduling play dates here and there.

I have a friend, R., with whom I play at Crimson Moon parties (mostly — we occasionally cross paths at other parties as well. He’s fun to play with because he’s a huge masochist and can really take it. After the last party at the end of October, he sent me a nice write-up of our scene. I had his permission to share, so here goes:

To Ms Cassandra,

Our house guests have departed. The party was a great event. And now I want to tell you about my experience while submitting to you.

My excitement started to peak when we made the appointment. We both departed the (main area of the) party to get ready. I got the toys laid out, showered and shaved.

Cleanliness is number one. Then I selected underware which I hoped pleased you. And at 8:45 you knocked. My heart raced. We greeted. And I then went into my submission. Down onto the floor. You were in control. Your warmup was perfect, and because of that, I was able to take whatever you wanted to administer. Also you have a great dialog. You are in control.

After a while I was face up. You clamped my nipples, and had the weights add to the pain & pull. Pain & pleasure mixed rapidly. You whipped my nipples, pulled the chain, gave strokes to my cock & balls, legs, then you pulled and twisted my nipples, ooh, that’s so hot, more pain, which melts into pleasure. You slapped my face, a few times, and I could see the look in your eyes. You were in control.

Back on to my belly, you began to ready me for the cane. And after a while, you decided to continue, harder, more onto the legs. You had me in sub space. I was floating. I could think of nothing more to say but “Thank you, Ma’am.” You also used a mix of toys–strap, whip–on my back, butt, legs, and feet, taking my feet to a new feel of pain. WOW! I said inside. Then you installed the slider clamps, TIGHT. More nipple play.

Finally having me get up and against the wall, you played with my nipple chain, talking, your face full of expression, and suddenly … YANK, off came the clamps, which caused my knees to falter. WOW, what a rush of pain and pleasure.

It was followed by you twisting & pulling on my now sore nipples. Sore, but happy sore. Along the way you also did a punch massage; this was new to me. It was thuddy and exciting at the same time.

Next, you had me get on the bed face up. You were going to cane my legs on top. WOW, I’ve never had this. Oh, this hurt, but you said, “Good boy. Ready for the second?” I was breathing heavily. It hurt, too. Then you said I was to take three more. I said, “Yes, ma’am.”
And you delivered them. OOH, they hurt, but they were for you. You were pleased. I was happy.

We then hugged. I was spent but thrilled. But again you jumped on my back. I liked the feeling of your weight while sitting on my back. At first I was at a loss for words, but I did say a great big thank you.

Thats how I felt; it was wonderful. And I am open for more play and other things you might want to try.

submissively,

r.

Thanks, R., for a hot piece of writing. I’m happy to give you the kind of painful pleasure you crave.

I’m of a certain age … I’ve been of a certain age for quite a while now … where strangers, cashiers, etc. call me “Ma’am.” A lot of women don’t like this because they feel old when they hear that. I hated it, too, for the longest time. When I first heard it I wasn’t anywhere near “old.” Now I’m (cough cough cough) m*ddl*-ag*d, and it no longer bothers me.

In play, “Ma’am” is the way I prefer to be addressed. I can accept “Mistress,” I don’t mind it, but I don’t feel “Mistress” is really who I am. As a person who frequently role plays a teacher, a mom, a librarian, the sexy next-door neighbor, etc., “Ma’am” works much better. You can also call me “Ms. (or Miss) Cassandra,” but considering that’s more of a mouthful, Ma’am is the easiest.

I frequently get emails of FL messages without a proper greeting: “Dear Ms. Cassandra.” I will answer you if you don’t start off your note that way, but it leaves a bad impression in my mind, especially if you are writing to me for the first time. “Hey” is rude, and no greeting at all is rude. An email that has no greeting and is full of typos should not be sent. “Should not” is wishful thinking, of course. It will happen. Some people are not native English speakers and need help with spelling. I understand. (It still bugs me, though!). If you’ve written me a bunch of times before, it’s not as important and we can

Speaking of improper behavior and rudeness, to me there is a huge difference between bratting and being disrespectful. I like a bit of bratting (usually just the verbal kind), because it makes for a fun scene – the brats are often the ones who crave a good, hard spanking or paddling, and I’m happy to oblige. But being disrespectful won’t get you anywhere near me.