Guest Post: Birthday Bruises

guest post birthday bruises

Guest posts are part of a once monthly highlight from authors who know more than me. I’m really excited to get some more voices on this website, especially about things I may not be the best person to speak about, such as gender fluidity, trans issues, or very specific areas of kink I haven’t explored. This month, the dapper Bex has written about their annual birthday celebration involving a variety of spanking implements. If you’re interested in writing for a monthly guest slot, let’s chat, but for now, let’s get to Bex’s birthday shenanigans. 

When I tell people I host a spanking party for my birthday every year I get a myriad of different reactions. I’ve had people be elated or scandalized, turned on or confused. Mostly, they just seem to have no idea what to expect, which is fair really, because Birthday Bruises is unlike any birthday party, or play party, that I’ve ever been to. The beauty of it is that it’s both of those things, and neither of those things, all at the same time.

Here’s how it works. Each September I invite ten to fifteen folks to an apartment in Toronto, and everyone who attends is invited to spank me once for each year my queer ass has been on this earth. We lay out a table full of implements, from traditional floggers and canes, to paddles and pervertables. I give a basic presentation on spanking safety, and point out the implements that are better suited for beginners, and give them an overview on the kinds of impact that I enjoy. Then we set up a livestream to share the party with the internet, and let the spankings begin.

Since Birthday Bruises isn’t your traditional play party, it doesn’t have your traditional play party guests. There are no leather clad tops and submissives on leashes (unless you count Kate and I). The only jock strap is the one I’m wearing and the ratio of clothes to humans is suspiciously high. You’re more likely to see someone in a sweater and jeans than you are a latex catsuit.
In fact, for a number of them, this is the first time they’ve ever been to an event like this, and the only thing bringing them there is that they’re my friend. In some cases not even that. This past year a friend of mine brought a first date to Birthday Bruises, and another friend from out of town (who in turn, brought his own first date!). That’s three people at this party who were meeting me for the first time while I was bent over table wearing a white cut off tank top and jock strap. “Hi there. Nice to meet you. Would you like to spank me?”

Consent is key at Birthday Bruises, no one is required to hit me and they can stop at any time, but it’s open season on my ass and anyone who wants to experiment has the opportunity to do so. The low pressure design and room full of newbies curious enough to show up to an event called Birthday Bruises creates a really magical space that I get to be the center of. People are free to chat and socialize, and often do, meeting each other for the first time and having their own little party within the event.

Then I have Kate and Taylor there, my two eager facilitators and experienced tops, to move the spankings along. They warmed me up and experimented with the more advanced impact toys, while inviting the newbies to try their hand at bruising me. Taylor flounced around the table, pairing toys with experience level and technique like some sort of spanking sommelier, while Kate encouraged the nervous and more naturally subby of the group.
I have this long standing fantasy in which I’m left alone in a room, and a group of sexy folks are invited in, one at a time, to use me however they like, usually my mouth. What is so hot about that to me is the way they’d all experience it so differently. There’s the person who would just sit there, waiting for me to come to him and give him what he’s owed, the one who’d overcompensate, pushing me against a wall and trying to be aggressive, the subby boy who’d be so overwhelmed and delighted that it was even happening, he wouldn’t know what else to do. The nuance in the energy they’d inhabit and the way they’d interact with me when I’m presented to them as a toy is what makes it so intriguing, and I’m given a little snippet of the platonic version of that at Birthday Bruises.

I don’t get turned on at Birthday Bruises, and if I do it’s fleeting and, frankly surprising, it’s just not that kind of space, but I do get that variety of interactions the way I do in my fantasy. I get to play with the subby femme who, given our typical dynamic, is usually more likely to be bent over in front of me. Except now she’s joyously hitting me with a giant colorful wooden paddle and we both giggle as each smack lets out a loud crack but barely lands hard enough to redden my pale skin.

There’s the stranger who politely introduces himself and asks to hit me, as if that’s not why we’re all here. He inquires about the implements with curiosity and negotiates casually with me before putting his hand on my back and bending me over with the certainty of someone who has almost definitely done this before. His first few spanks are light, testing my pain tolerance, before he starts experimenting with different cadences, landing several blows in quick succession and then following them up with two slow, deliberate, smacks.

There’s the comedian, who’s new to this whole thing, but lets his showmanship mask his unease. He cracks jokes and plays to the camera, clearly wanting to be a part of the party, but steering clear of anything that could be even remotely conceived of as “sexy”.

Then there’s when Taylor hits me, easily the most experienced impact top, and one of the only true sadists in the room. Their hits are masterful, selecting their most brutal rubber canes and hockey puck crop, each blow adding a new stripe of red across my previously untouched thighs. This is the only time all night that the room is quiet, and it’s the only time I ever get close to safewording. I scream and grip the table I’m bent over, barely able to catch my breath in between each hit, fueled by the gasps and wincing of the other people in the room. I need to be the best boy and take everything they give me, I need to show everyone how strong I am.

Two hours and 350 hits later we end the live stream and everyone in the party surrounds me with hugs. I sit on the floor as my birthday cake is delivered to me and everyone tells me what an impressive strong boy I am. I’m in a haze of subspace but I see everyone make their way over to the table, poking around the implements themselves. “I wonder what that one feels like” someone muses allowed.

It’s not long before someone else is bent over that same table I was on, and I’m too tired to do anything but smile and be proud of the weird, sexy, explorative space we created.

Missed the livestream but still want to watch Bex celebrate their birthday in style? Reach out to them on Twitter @BexTalksSex or email them at BexTalksSex (at) gmail (.) com and purchase a copy of the recording for yourself!

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