Gods, but I love the feeling of a whip in my hand. A flick of the wrist, and the cracker licks the skin softly. A snap of the elbow and a flick of the wrist, and it bites in. I love the feedback I get through the whip itself, and the feedback I get watching the bottom. The sound of it popping lightly, the twitch, and a moment later that angry red welt rising. It gives me shivers just thinking about it.

This is the third time I’ve gotten to use a whip on a live target, and first time I’ve really been able to do almost exactly what I wanted with it. I practiced for a while on a hat strung up as a target, but really my best practice came working with a live target. The first time wasn’t that great — there were a fair number of times where I missed my intended target. The second time was much better. And this last time… now I more fully understand why some people are addicted to the crack of the whip (pardon the pun).

My back after my first experience receiving a singletailing

Warning: rant ahead. (I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.)

A lot of people say you should practice for 10 years in a secluded monastery until you can knock over one dime in a row of dimes, blindfolded, before you use a whip on a person.

I call bullshit.

My whip teacher, who has been using whips for over 12 years, says that if you stay below the neck, you really can’t harm someone with a whip unless you strangle them, hit them with the blunt end really hard, or try to shove it down their throat. Other than that, you can make marks and maybe even draw blood, sure. But you’re not going to do anything that sends them to the emergency room. There’s simply not enough kinetic energy there. An amateur bondage enthusiast who doesn’t know what they’re doing can cause far worse damage than an amateur whip thrower.

This is coming from a guy that’s skilled enough to singletail someone’s face. I’ve seen him do it — just hitting with the fluff of the cracker on the eyelids for sensation play, biting in with the knot a bit on the cheeks. He often uses two whips simultaneously, Florentine style. I’m saying this not to glamorize him, but rather to say that this is a guy who knows his craft, and knows what his tools are capable of.

That said, if you’re learning on a live target, to begin with I highly suggest they wear a hoodie and some jeans. If they do that, they’re protected from anything you are likely to do to them — in fact, I can almost guarantee you that you’ll end up hurting yourself more than you will them.

The point is, a live person can tell you where you’re hitting, how hard you’re hitting, whether it’s a point of punctuation or a dragging feeling, whether you’re hitting with the cracker or the fall of a bullwhip (protip: don’t hit with the fall, almost no one likes that). Your skill will increase an order of magnitude faster when working with a live person, than with an inanimate target.

As happens from time to time, I’ve been going through some stress in the past few weeks.  Not the least of which was coming to the realization that I needed to break things off with one of my girls — I saw that she needed someone who could be more emotionally available.  But I won’t go into that.  Let it suffice to say, I was in need of release.

Being a sadomasochist, I find release in both the giving and receiving of pain.  I had planned to attend an event at the local dungeon, 1763, and to be whipped with a singletail by a friend of mine named Dream.  I wasn’t aware that the demonstrator for that night was to be Wayne Brawner, though — someone very skilled with whips, who had mentored Dream’s own mentor.  He had come without a demonstration partner, having planned to take a volunteer from the crowd.  So of course, I volunteered.  It actually was a bit more organic than that — we talked some before the demonstration during the social period, I expressed my interest, and so it was.

Wayne talked a bit about his ideas on S&M.  For example, he doesn’t believe in safe words.  This was my first experience with him, but I got the distinct impression that he is a bit of a harder player, and that he uses S&M as a spiritual experience.  He talked about forcing people past their limits, bringing them to the point of tears, and then anger, and then laughter.  In my head, I could see his point.  Those in the Sun Dance ritual weren’t allowed to call “red,” were they?  I knew I was in for a trial, but that is exactly what I came for.

And he did not disappoint.  After a brief demonstration of the versatility of a singletail whip — first beating me on the back with the handle end, then showing how wrapping can be done on purpose to good effect — he went right into it with no warmup to speak of.  After a few lashes to my back, it seemed that he realized I wasn’t very sensitive to pain there, so he went at my front, directly for the navel and nipples (my nipples are extremely sensitive).  He was unrelenting, hitting the most sensitive spots over and over again without mercy.  I knew that his goal was to break me down, and to prove something to me.

And he did.  He took me past what I had ever experienced before.  First I began to sweat, and then to shake.  Eventually it was all I could do to stand on my feet — part of me wished that I had been strapped to a cross, but the greater part of me knew that would have been too easy.  After whipping my left nipple repeatedly (the man has deadly accuracy), he would come up and pinch it, and twist it.  And then my right, but he didn’t torture that one with the whip so much.  Probably just to give a contrast.  I’m not sure how long it went on, but at some point I started to experience nausea, and he stopped shortly thereafter.

I was vulnerable.  Stripped bare of ego and pretense.  I felt… raw.  Alive.

And it struck me then that sadists are more than someone who gives pain, and release.  A skilled sadist breaks you down so that you can rebuild yourself.  Holds a mirror to you, to show you not who you think you are, not who people tell you you are, but who you really are.  Sometimes you’re actually stronger than what you believe.  Sometimes you’re weaker.  Either way, you’re forced to see it, and deal with it.

Later that night, after I had recovered some, I had the pleasure of helping my own bottom to find some release.  I can’t say that I broke her down as Wayne did me, but then again I couldn’t hope to match his experience in that arena.  It felt good to be able to give back, and after that night I’ve come to see my role as a dominant/top in a deeper way.  I also realize what drew me to this lifestyle.  I used to think it was simply about pain and pleasure.  That is only the surface though.  I’ve always sought to help others in their paths in life, with whatever small amount of wisdom or empathy I could offer.  BDSM is an extension of that.  It’s about personal growth, evolution, enlightenment.  It’s about burning everything to the ash so that it can be rebuilt stronger, healthier, renewed.