āHave you seen Krakenās ass yet?ā
- That was the popular conversation-starter while Oxhana and I were out at the club for her drag performance this past Monday. We celebrated the long Labor Day weekend by driving up to Dallas for ILSB (International Leather Sir/Boy), a conference for āold-school gay leather traditionalistā crowd, as my Sir had explained it to me. The trip, although less than 24 hours, was jam-packed with experiences that either taught me something new, introduced me to something I didnāt know existed, pushed me outside of my comfort zone, or enveloped me in blissful pleasure. - The most powerful of those experiences was my first caning session. The one that left my ass looking like this:
To those of you who, like me, would initially react to a video like that with concern, I can assure you that the entire session (and post-care), was handled safely, consensually ā¦and with panache.
There is so much that I could reflect on from this trip - from my first pup mosh, to my introduction to Littles, to my first attempt at following D/s protocol. For this entry, however, I want to focus on what made my ass look like an evil Rorschach test.
My first caning session wasnāt technically my first caning session.
What Iām calling my first caning session happened in the early hours of the morning at our hotel room. Earlier that afternoon, however, Otto (Oxhanaās pup persona) and I attended a seminar on rhythmic caning. The instructor of the seminar asked for volunteers almost as soon as the class began and there wasnāt a momentās hesitation before Otto and my hands shot up into the air.
I was asked to strip down completely naked and hop up on a massage table for the demonstration. They put some music on and the instructor dove right into the caning. He must have had a dozen different pairs of canes that he used like drums on my back and my ass. As each new instrument was introduced, he would explain how it would feel on the recipient and any particular things to keep in mind with each tool.
Here are a few things I learned:
Keep the strikes concentrated in two areas of the back ā between the base of the neck and the bottom of the shoulder blades, or on the ass from the top of the crack to the top part of the ham string.
Strikes that are timed quickly together like a pitter-patter drum roll are easier to process than strikes that are spaced out apart, even if the strikes have the same amount of power behind them
Moving from one area to the next is important for processing the pain. More than a dozen or so back-to-back strikes to the same area quickly starts to hurt.
Big, thuddy instruments can be used as breath control tools when striking between the shoulder blades
Just like variety of striking area is important, so too is the variety of canes. The moments I enjoyed the most were when a new tool was introduced.
Later that night is when the real fun began.
Although the caning at the seminar was fantastic and definitely left a few bruises, it paled in comparison to what happened later, which is why Iām counting Sir Steveās caning as my first proper caning session.
The scene was held in our hotel room and began around 1:00 AM, give or take. We had been out dancing at the club but we all made sure not to have more than a few drinks so we could keep our wits about us.
Present in the room were Otto and myself, our Sir (Sir Eric), Sir Steve (who is a Sir to our Sir Eric) and two other friends ā who Iāll call Ishmael and Ricky. Otto and I had briefly discussed the scene ahead of time with Sir Eric, who explained that he would be handling Otto, while I would be left in the expert hands of Sir Steve. Sir Eric is very familiar with my boundaries and assured me that he had discussed all of the important parts with Sir Steve ahead of time.
Sir Steve refers to the experience he provided for me (and has provided to many others) as the ā9 Sins.ā He used nine different canes over the course of about an hour, and each one of them is intended to represent the original 9 sins (two dropped off over the years). To introduce each cane, he would slowly run the cane over my back so I could get a feel for it and he would tell me the caneās name. He then made me say the name out-loud, which worked well for both building anticipation, and allowing Steve to get an idea of how I was doing mentally.
A few days after the session, I followed up with Sir Steve and asked him to elaborate on his (very clever) thought process behind each cane. The text in italics came directly from Sir Steve.
This is the first cane that was used. Greed is made of carbon, so it makes me think of diamonds. It also was the first cane I ever had and definitely led me to wanting more. Itās also the cane I always start off with so the sub is wanting more as well.
Sir Steveās touch was merciful and light with this one. Heās right, it definitely left me wanting more.
Pride is my prettiest cane. Itās white leather wrapped around a Teflon core. White Leather is definitely my aesthetic and if I were to pick a sin to describe myself, Pride would be it.
I can deeply relate with Sir Steve on this one. After Steve finished with Pride, he asked me which of the first two canes I preferred ā Greed or Pride. I first picked Pride because I genuinely preferred it over the former. As we progressed further into the session, Sir Steve asked me a few more times which of my canes was my favorite. I chose Pride every time ā partly because itās the sin I identify with the most ā¦and partly because itās the only one I could remember as we got deeper into the scene.
Wrath is made of aluminum and is super thuddy and pretty thick. If I were to get in an actual fight with someone, wrath is the cane I would want. Temperature-wise, it starts off as extremely cold and absorbs heat through the caning. It may be my midwestern-ness, but when I think off wrath, I tend to think of a cold shoulder more than a fire.
I agree with Sir Steveās sentiment and think that this cane is aptly named. Now that Iāve had some time to play with caning on the giving side, I know how big of a difference it makes when a cane is bendy versus when itās rigid like this aluminum one. MUCH less forgiving!
Envy is my most stingy cane. It seems like my most feminine cane, and it kind of reminds me of my ex-wife, who was jealousy wrapped up into a person. She definitely inspired that naming.
Stingy is right. It felt like liking a D battery but times a thousand. It was a welcome reprieve from the thuddy canes that came before.
Gluttony is my fattest cane. Not very original, but thatās why itās named that.
I remember distinctly disliking Gluttony. It was MUCH thuddier than any of the others. Iām not sure if it was this difference or how hard Sir Steve was using it that made it my least favorite. Either way, this one was a tough pill to swallow.
Sloth is made of rubber, but itās much thinner and is basically a short single tail. Because the material just falls over, it looks really lazy. I also feel lazy using it sometimes because I barely move my wrist and spin it in a circle to use it. However, itās probably my most difficult cane to useā¦
Definitely the most unique of the canes in the set. This is another one thatās kind of a blur, although I do remember wondering if he had switched to a whip at some point.
Itās the only plant-based cane I own, which makes it feel more naturalistic to me. Typically, when I use it, I add more body contact and/or genital touching to the scene to accentuate its name.
Vainglory is made of steel and the sin stands for unjustified boasting. Itās my longest cane and usually when I use it, I use a violet wand to electrically charge myself and the cane to add electro to the impacts, which is a technique I had never seen anyone else do before, so that cane boasted my own ego. Lol
I remember Sir Steve explaining the concept of charging the cane during the session and how it struck fear in me before I realized I wouldnāt be subjected to any shocks. In retrospect, Iām burning with curiosity to know what that would feel like. Looks like Iāll have to do this all over again sometime!
Acedia means to neglect something or a kind of procrastination. It was the last cane in the sins that I acquired, and it took me a long time to decide on it, which kind of fits the name. It has actually become one of my favorites and I tend to use it towards the end because by that point, the endorphins are usually high enough for me to just start wailing on them and donāt have to worry about being as careful (which kind of connects with the neglect meaning).
Wailing is right. By the end of the session, every stroke had power behind it and I was practically screaming every time the cane connected.
At some point during the last few canes, it felt like Sir Steve really started to turn things up a notch. Initially, Sir Steveās strikes were mostly taps with every few strokes (like on the down-beat at the end of each bar in the song we were listening to) hard enough to get me to yelp in pain. Towards the end though, EVERY strike was sending shock waves of pain up and down my body. I began to tremble. At some point my convulsions were so strong that I pulled the rope bondage that had secured my wrists out in front of me completely apart. Being out of bondage made it even more difficult to process the pain because I no longer had anything to strain against.
When lifting weights in the gym, they say that the goal of the entire set is to get you to the point of failure - that last half-push that you can barely get out is where all of the magic happens. Everything before that is just to weaken your muscles to get them to that point. Looking back on the session, I feel that everything was just preparing my body to receive what was waiting for me at the end. I was screaming with each lash. My mind was racing in a million different directions. I remember one thought sticking out above the rest that really resonated with me. I had this visceral awareness of all of my ego (I'll admit, Iāve got a lot), my bravado, the masks I wear - were all stripped away. I couldnāt be anyone, or do anything, except process the pain I was receiving. As much as I wanted to be strong, I was reduced to whimpering, and eventually sobbing. I was completely removed from the worldā¦ floating somewhere above it. I had broken open. I was reduced to my rawest, purest, simplest self - and that is what made everything worthwhile.
My first memory of the session coming to a close was seeing my hands trembling as they fumbled to remove the blind folds. My whole body was shaking, my face was a mess of snot and tears. Sir Steveās announcement that I had made it to the end wasnāt a coo of comfort or concern, but a celebratory, āYou made it!ā I fucking made it! Sir Steve laid down beside me, held me in his arms and sang along to the music while I openly weeped into his chest. It wasnāt until two or three songs later that I started to calm down and come back to my senses.
Around that point, Otto and Sir Eric came back into the room. They had left about halfway through the session so Sir Steve and I could have our privacy. Otto and Sir Eric were naturally concerned when they saw me crying but I did my best to assure them that everything was okay. They cuddled me close and after another ten minutes or so, I was smiling again.
While they were cuddling me, Sir Steve excused himself saying he was going to listen to some music. I later learned that his own after-care had been cut short by Otto and Sir Ericās interjection which is why he left for a bit. After-care for a top, as he later explained to me, is critically important as well. It helps him process his own emotions, and lets him know that heās not a monster for getting so much pleasure out of hurting someone. Fortunately, Sir Steve was able to use his music to get back to the right headspace and the evening drew to a close.
There are many aspects of pain play that I enjoy, but what makes it so enticing for me is the feeling of accomplishment once Iāve come out the other end of something that was challenging. I was victorious. I had weathered the storm. This whole week, Iāve felt the after-glow of the session. My bruises are like battle scars - visible reminders of what I had endured (and enjoyed)! It makes me proud to see them. Every time I wince when I sit down, I canāt help but smirk. I survived Sir Steveās 9 Sins - a right of passage that has left me all the more eager to explore BDSM.
Sir Steve and Sir Eric were both in close contact in the days following our session, like good Doms should be. They checked in on how I was feeling and made themselves available to talk if I was having a hard time coping. I didnāt experience sub-drop, but they were well-prepared to recognize and respond to it if I did. Theyāre both so fucking fantastic.
So thatās the story of my first caning session - a transcendent experience that pushed me to my limits and left me feeling like I could conquer the world. I wish everyone could experience what I went through but I recognize that there are so many aspects of the session that could have ruined the experience if they were not handled properly. If you have any questions about this experience or how to re-create something similar for yourself (or your Sub), leave a comment below or shoot me an email. Iām happy to share what Iāve learned and point you in the right direction to learn more.
