The Tears You Can't See on the Table

A preview of Abby's Strapping

I've never had a spanking not go according to plan. That's because there has never been a plan. Whenever we've tried to plan a spanking, we end up doing something else. Therefore, our play has always been spontaneous and unpredictable. I've learned this week that a planned and filmed spanking is something else entirely, especially when something goes wrong.

At my prompting, we filmed a hard strapping scene earlier this week. We've never played as hard with the strap as we did in this. I actually said to my husband beforehand, "Don't be nice to me. You can be nice to me afterwards." And you know what? He wasn't. I know it was as difficult for him as it was for me, and I think there may have been moments when we both wanted to stop, but we knew it was too good not to finish. Too good, that is, until the lighting wasn't quite right and the camera that was supposed to be zoomed at my (agonized) face from the kitchen counter (a camera angle we had struggled over for what felt like ages) failed to zoom.

In the first third of the strapping, I was wearing jeans. Even through the denim, the strap, a barber strop with a surprisingly vicious bite, my bottom stung and burned. On film, however, it just looks like he's beating a dark blur. Without the facial camera, you can't even tell it hurts, other than my occasional yelping. Therefore, we left that out of the edited 4 minute "movie" we ended up posting on the clip site, leaving only the strapping on my white panties and then on my bare backside. It's a bit mean--not squeamishly so, but enough so that when I watch even the five-stroke clip above, I wince.

What's strange about the whole experience is the feeling of having failed an audience that wasn't even necessarily expecting anything. The table over which I am bent was covered in tears by the end of the ten minute punishment. I don't normally cry that much and it was overwhelming in itself. To feel that I had given so much of myself, that my husband felt that he had taken so much from both me and himself, and then to not have the film we wanted afterwards was frustrating. If anything, it was that feeling afterwards that was squeamish. I've never had to think of a spanking in terms of being a success or not. It's been fun and it's been relieving; it's been arousing and it's been terrifying. It's never been a matter of business.

I imagine this will be a subject I return to as we explore this new endeavour. On the upside--we bought new lighting, hopefully fixed the problem with the second camera, have a better concept of what we want to see, and, best of all, were both still able to be completely aroused by what we had filmed. A strange separation occurs after a spanking scene has been uploaded to the computer, I've discovered. Even knowing how much it hurt, how my husband had to hold me so gently afterwards as I cried, telling me how well I did and how proud he was of me, I watched the strap cracking against my own flesh and I found myself thinking, "Beat me harder."

For all the learning we have to do, for all the fears and doubts and questions I have, I can't help but think I've finally put my toes into the right water after all.

Piece of Me

Preview of Introducing Abby

Here is a short sample of what happens in that first film we posted on Naughty Abby. I have to admit, I can think of nothing but making more of these right now. This is my first time uploading video to the blog, so I hope it works, but most of all, I hope you like it.

These past few days have been some of the strangest of my life. There have been quite a few times that I have felt like I have been wearing too many hats. Trying to get through the work day then come home, help design the shoot, provide input on camera angle, be punished (more harshly than usual--there is a post to come on the strapping I received last night), then approve the edit and get it posted both here and on the new site... there are moments when I'm no longer even sure what my name is, my job is, who I really am in all of this. Then I watch the videos we've made, and I see myself in a way I've always longed to see. Suddenly I think I'm beautiful and made just for this thing we do. My bottom is soft and round and just begging to be beaten. This is me. And I can finally say that quite literally. Just push play. This is me.

Abby, The Movie

I have so much to say about this experience, I don't even know where to begin. I also don't have time to begin, as it's early Monday and I must be on my way to work. Here, however, are screenshots from this weekend's movie, "Introducing Abby." Ultimately, we want to have our own site, with more than just video content. It would be a place to share my stories, for one thing, and I have some other ideas to make it a more interactive site than just a spanking video store. For now, I hope you get a kick out of these pictures (as you can see, I got a literal kick out of making the film), and if you are able to stop by our clips for sale site, now or later when we have more content, please know that this is a creative endeavor to fuel my ability to spend more time writing and in the world of spanking in general.

Receiving a good strapping here!

Loving how small my waist looks. Not loving the birch quite so much.

What can I say? I love the cane, my husband, and, it turns out, showing my bare bottom to the world.

Abby Almost Presents...

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Our First Film

For a while now, we've been talking about what might happen if we were to start filming our scenes--what we would think of the experience, what others would think of the images, and whether it's something we want to pursue. After getting a tripod for my digital camera as one of our Valentine's presents for one another, we realized we wanted a second vantage point. This weekend, we found the perfect digital video camera. I've never filmed any kind of scene before, nevermind a punishment one. That my first was shot with two cameras and then edited into a viable film is amazing to me, and a credit to my ridiculously talented and beautiful husband.

The actual video is a bit over 20 minutes, including a spanking, a leather paddling, a tawsing, a caning, and a strapping. Yes--we went all out, and had the best of times doing it. I couldn't help sharing it, and we agreed to share our faces in so doing. Here are some of my favorite screen captures. Please let me know what you think... if you wouldn't mind seeing more, or if you'd rather I just kept to writing. Without further ado, this is us.

Booty and the Beats

I'd stand under that umbrella, I can tell you that. We decided last week to veer rather far off from our usual gamut of musical stylings to find out what the hip-hop community has been up lately. What we found is that it is up to nothin' but booties, yo. If it's not about the booty, it's sung by a girl with a fabulous one, like my girl Rihanna (above and below). She not only has a ridiculously fun album in Good Girl Gone Bad (how can a community such as ours not love a girl who uses that as a title?) but has the body to boot(y).

I can't even tell you how many times in the past seven days I've heard songs about girls in apple-bottom jeans and smacking or shaking those bottoms. My current favorite (I cannot believe I am confessing to this) is "Low" by Flo-Rida (feat. T-Pain). It's catchy as anything, not to mention has the arse-shaking chorus:

She had them Apple Bottom Jeans

Boots with the fur [With the fur]

The whole club lookin at her

She hit the floor [She hit the floor]

Next thing you know

Shawty got low low low low low low low low

Them baggy sweat pants

And the Reeboks with the straps [With the straps]

She turned around and gave that big booty a smack [Ayy]

She hit the floor [She hit the floor]

Next thing you know

Shawty got low low low low low low low low

So we've got a girl with bum-hugging jeans, a line about straps (you can make it sound like you're singing about another kind of strap if you're singing along), big booty smacking, and a crazy beat. We've been driving around in our new car (if I haven't mentioned it already, it's the sweetest little black Mazda RX-8... VaRRoooom!) singing and dancing along. We've even worked out a bit of a routine to the chorus. I do the main lines, he does the bits in the paratheses and the harmony. He also gives me a good slap in time with the booty smack line. Yea-uh! I'm also trying to incorporate the line "with the fur" into ordinary conversation, as a means of agreeing, or as a way to say hello or goodbye, like "Go you Huskies" in Mamet's State and Main.

Oh, hip-hop. I deserve a big booty slap for thinking it wasn't worth my time. Think I'll go put on my own apple bottom jeans and see what kind of action I can shake up. Boots with the fur!

The Bottom Collector

I haven't started reading this yet, having only found it in a used bookshop tonight, but it is officially the winner of Best Book Jacket of the Week. If there were such a thing. Perhaps I ought to start finding books with bottoms on the cover...

(Post Title courtesy of my husband, who is a bit of a bottom collector himself, at least in terms of what lives on our (many) hard-drives. Then again, it is our collection. So I can't put it all on him, can I? And yes, he's standing right behind me as I type this.)

Happy Pink and Red Day!

I am so so so so so excited! It's Valentine's Day with my beautiful boy, and one of our presents to each other is a tripod. That's right! We may soon have a more depictive collection of our experiences than the blog alone. I have so much I want to write about, but I keep living naughty stories rather than writing them.

Although I've never been much of a Valentine's person, this year I can't help but be excited about a day dedicated to the colors red and pink. I can't wait to see which shade I am by the end of it.

The Schoolgirl Suspended

I've muted and bound the schoolgirl inside me for a bit.

image: DaveNestler.Com (Witchblade illustration)

This winter, I have become vulnerable. Maybe this is the result of the neverending flu bug. Maybe it's having a birthday and getting older. Or maybe it's just being too exhausted after the long days I've been working. By the time I get home, I've already spent twelve hours being a different version of myself. The need to playact any further is gone.

The vulnerability has cast itself as an inability to separate myself from a spanking. No longer am I saved by the bad girl inside me who takes me from myself, taking the punishment for me and then leaving me with the afterglow. No longer is my husband the stern headmaster, albeit a bit of a naughty one himself, set upon punishing and then seducing his favorite student. If anything, the only character I feel like is a perved out Julia Roberts in Notting Hill: "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to spank her."

My internal roleplay gone, I take my punishments less graciously. Put simply, were my life an Amy Winehouse song, she'd be singing, "He tried to take me over his lap, I said no, no no." I squeal constantly. I have actually found myself making such a fuss that I want to tell my self to be quiet and take my strokes like a proper young lady. He doesn't even have to say it for me anymore! I now mentally chastise myself.

The result of this change is that the scene becomes much sexier, and much dirtier. It's the honesty I have to have with myself, I think. Once my cries of protest have awarded me nothing but more strokes, the heat and the wetness that the spanking incites are things I have to own. If I'm not a slutty seventeen-year-old trying to end her punishment early by flashing her pussy at her teacher, then that's me all dripping wet and screaming so loudly that I have to bite my own wrist to mute myself. When something hurts espcially, I'll curse and pout and, quite simply, have a far more honest reaction than when I'm trying to keep myself in check as a schoolgirl. It's freeing and terrifying at once. For all the time I've spent undressed in my life, I've never been so naked.

Don't get me wrong, the schoolgirl inside me isn't gone. She's suspended, not expelled. I've had this blog for just over half a year now, and if nothing else, it has enabled me to dig ever deeper into my psyche and become comfortable with who and what I am. I still have my hang-ups; I had a conversation recently that kept me from writing here for a while because I literally had to get over myself and a sudden discomfort I had with being so exposed. That, too, is a part of this winter's vulnerability. As readers, you may all know me better than I know myself, and that is strange and uncomfortable, but fantastic.

I started this blog for my husband, both to be sexy and to share with him the thoughts that are formed better with my hands than with my tongue. It turns out the present wasn't so much a naughty blog as it was a way to fully become the woman he married, the woman he knows I am even when I only want to be that little girl, the woman he spanks, and spanks, and spanks, seemingly constantly these days, because it's who I am and it's what I want. And as if that's not 100% good enough, he took me shopping last night and we bought the beginnings of a new schoolgirl uniform. When I'm finished with all this vulnerability whatnot, that naughty girl is in for it.

30 strokes... and then again... and then again...

Well, wish me luck! It's my 30th birthday today and I've been promised 30 strokes every time I turn around! I'm sorry I've been away--I've had a terrible cold. Now that I'm better my bottom is primed for whatever comes its way. We're heading out to antique shops soon to go implement hunting, so I should have new stories soon! I've missed the blogosphere, not to mention the spanking! Even with being sick we've already managed to add a Victorian wooden clothes brush with a long wooden back and a swishy carpet beater to the collection. I've spent a good portion of the morning yelping, and now I'm being summoned back for more...