words and pictures

It’s clear, given the fact that I am attempting to revive the spanko blogging of yesteryear, that the written word is important to me. I’ve always enjoyed hand writing things and rarely took notes via my computer in college even. I keep a physical daily planner, I have a thing for pens. Of course, typing has its place. It’s not any less writing. Importantly, I can edit and revise and really make sure I am going to be understood. Hand writing is good for a first draft or something personal. I digress – the point was not typing vs hand writing but the written word versus pictures. Luckily, we don’t have to pick one or the other, but there is often debate amongst spankos, especially those who perused the early internet (Usenet, anyone else?). Writing – stories, long form writing (like blogging) and the back and forth of forum conversations, hold a special place. I have a vivid imagination that runs like a movie reel, so when I read a spanking story, it plays like that in my mind.

Although I “grew up” in text based spaces like Usenet, Yahoo groups, forums, IRC, AIM, etc etc – photos speak to me as well. Early digital cameras were a revelation. The ability to capture a moment, and ideally (or potentially?) a feeling, feels like magic. When I play with someone, the goal is never photos, but I do enjoy having photos to look back on if we manage to get some. I also enjoy taking photos primarily for myself, or a select few people I enjoy spank-flirting with. Sometimes these are casual snaps of my bottom in a mirror and sometimes they’re more orchestrated, using a timer or tripod. Those ones, often for myself, are intended to capture and evoke a feeling. I know photos aren’t resonant for everyone, but they really can be for me, and not just of myself. Because this post will contain more than one photo, I’ll put a jump here for anyone who might be trying to read in public.

I’ve shared this photo in a previous blog, but it’s from the first time Paul and I did discipline together in person. This so completely captures this moment, it takes me back to how I felt in the photo. I’d been told I could have a quick rub but also to fetch my hairbrush. Mind, I had already been spanked, tawsed, and written an essay. I did not want the hairbrush and more importantly, I did not want to get it myself. Given I was already in the corner, when I had initially turned to go get my hairbrush, I turned back around and put myself back in the corner to hide.

I wonder if anyone else can feel that sense of trying to hide? Can you feel how small I felt? Can you tell how unsettled I was by my lack of control over the situation? I’ll forever be grateful for Paul’s decision to capture that moment. The caption I’ve used for this is “not such a big girl, after all” and I think his height compared to mine, and the angle of the photo, absolutely show that. I see this photo and it’s not just a picture to me. It’s a moment in time that I get to remember forever. I get to see myself how I was seen in that moment, while knowing how I felt.

I am also curious what this photo evokes for others who see it. What do you feel when you see this girl in the corner, cupping her red bottom, bare from her waist to her ankle socks (knickers clearly taken away), gymslip pinned up to her shoulders?

These next photos are quite different.

These two are examples of photos that I have taken more for myself, to capture a mood in a moment when maybe I am not going to get the spanking I want…or need. I was dressed up, had a full face of makeup on, and was getting ready to head out to a fundraising event with my husband. I was in a bit of a unique mood – craving the feeling of knowing I wasn’t in control and was going to be thrashed whether I liked (or wanted it) or not. A bit of defiance. A bit of yes, sir, but fuck you, too.

Would I get in position? Yes. Would I put my head down and present my bottom in submissive obedience? No. I’d look at you, standing nearby with the strap/tawse, daring you to hurt me. You would, of course, and I’d give in to the submission eventually, but I would need the space to fight against that a bit. Not fight you, but fight the letting go. Eventually, I’d give in. Let go. Accept the thrashing.

A photo can capture that. Text can, too, but a photo can just be magical. Sometimes, the photos are meant to capture the sense of being on display for someone else’s pleasure – I am unlikely to share those, at least for now, but the idea that I might be positioned for someone to admire and enjoy and they might capture that in an image, for their own remembering, is a powerful feeling for me. That type of objectification works for me.

I know blog readers appreciate photos, because those posts tend to get more views – I won’t be turning into a photo blog, but I think denying their power for my head is also silly. I share a lot of photos on both my Twitter and Fetlife accounts and don’t intend to stop.

Words can evoke a powerful image for me, but a resonant image can evoke a powerful feeling.

-M