"You know you're dealing with a fisting slut when she brings her own gloves and lube." - Jefferson, when I randomly demo-bottomed for his G & P Spots class
"Nice ass?"- SkinnyBitch
"That's his way of saying Hello."- Me, explaining my Big Bro
"Sadist is in my name."- Pyro, during his installation of my Easy Button
"I cut into it, and it reformed. I swear, I think it was alive."- SkinnyBitch, on her dessert for the formal dinner
"You could've borrowed some of my clothes."- Me
"Yes, but I wanted to buy my clothes."- Cairo, on the allure of Delicious' wares
"My husband and I wear the same dress and shoe size. It's so convient."- Cairo, on the symmetry of her marriage
"I was trying to say as nicely, sweetly, calmly, gently as I could that we needed to get the fuck out of there and go the fuck to bed. Goddammit, I'm fucking tired."- Me, on the drive back to the hotel from the local 24 hour eatery at 5:30am
"It's weird, cause I didn't take notes at this event, and I'll have to recall it just from memory."- Me
"Oh, you mean what everyone else does?"- Lizzy, my smart and smartass friend
"It's like the best lemonade I've ever had."- SkinnyBitch, as we hacked our taste buds
"It can't be 1:40am."- Diamond
"It's the second 1:40am."- Me, on daylight savings and such
"What are they doing?"- Pyro's friend
"I think they're blowing up a trash can."- Pyro, on geeks and their fun parlor tricks
"He's still talking about his cat."- SkinnyBitch
"He's MurphyBlue; he can get away with it."- Me, on the allure of Big Bro
"For shame. For shame. A bootblack with dirty boots."- SkinnyBitch
"Well, it isn't as if I can bootblack myself."- Me, as SkinnyBitch volunteered her feet to help me clean my boots
"You're so hot."- Alice
"I was sleeping next to Kristen."- SkinnyBitch, when she climbed into bed with Alice, commenting on my new skill as a human space heater
"Why was the orgy room on the quiet floor?"- Oh, the irony
Some kinky handles are awesome names. Some are boring names. Some make no sense. The great ones, though, describe the person quite well.
Have you met PyroSadist?
Well, I have. I officially met him at Summer Camp this year, though I'd known of him for a year. At camp, we loosely made plans to play, but as per usual at kink events for me, I got busy, and we never got around to having our scene.
So, when strolling through the vendor hallway, and happening to find him in one of the vendor rooms, I was quite pleased. He sat on an ottoman, at just the right height that when I hugged him he nuzzled his face in my chest. Of course, I giggled, and hugged him harder.
I then gave him my customary warning, "Just so that you know, I never break hugs first."
"Really?"
You know, sometimes I probably should keep my mouth shut.
With Pyro's face perfectly positioned in my cleavage, he began biting my right boob. I yelped, and then whimpered as he bit harder, seeing how far I would go. No, I didn't stop hugging him.
A woman, I think his partner, who laid on the bed behind him, commented that I was a cute little toy who made fun noises. I must admit, at one point, while Pyro continued to bite me, I almost came just from the pain.
When he paused, the first time, we all marveled at his work: a small nickle sized bruise starting to form.
People walked in; people walked out. A friend of his came by and hugged him. I moved from his lap; he pulled me back over, saying that was no excuse for me to leave. I showed off his initial work.
So what did Pyro do as I displayed his gift? Of course he bit me, again. I yelped, again. And moaned, again. And he stopped for us all to look at it, again. It had grown from a nickle to a quarter.
NYRCampSlut, who was strolling in the vendor area with me, decided she wanted to contribute. She then pulled out her pinwheel and ran it across my bruise. Our friend Alice, who also roamed with us, decided she wanted to slap my face. Pyro's friend got up off the bed and began thrusting her hips against my ass. She flippantly made a comment about getting her strap-on, but never fulfilled the tease. But oh, I wanted her to.
When Slut had to run, of course Pyro's teeth found my breast, again. I had already started grinding on his knee. Wearing boxer shorts as my only bottoms, I could feel how wet I was, and suspected Pyro could too. I almost came at least three times as I both rode his knee and cocked my ass back to stimulate his partner.
When he finally let go once more, the raise area was larger than my actual nipple. He joked he wanted to pierce that, too.
Alice soon had to leave as well, though. And it was getting late. We all had plans for the evening.
I was sweaty and horny, but happy. I hugged Pyro again, the big bear of a man with his strong arms around me, comforting me after inflicting such sweet pain.
Later that evening, when I showed NYRCampSlut my bruise, she poked it and dubbed it my 'Easy Button.'
"See, cause it's so easy to play with." Poke Poke Poke.
Impromptu scenes at events... Oh how I love being a slut.
[Side note: Here is a picture of said Easy Button taken today, two days later.]
GKE: The Geeky Kink Event
I am sure there will be many a blog, FetLife post, Tweet, and multitudes of other writings about this past weekend. Instead of being one of those who talks about what went right and what went wrong, instead I'll just speak on a few of my experiences there.
The first of my trio of GKE moments I'm calling Therapeutic Rope.
This past weekend was full of emotions for all my friends as we traveled to New Jersey and attended this first ever event. My roommate SkinnyBitch and I shared a hotel room with two other friends. Both she and I were churning feelings like whirlpools, but hoped we would have pleasant fun times all the same.
And we did, somewhat, but at one point we each needed space to just feel.
I gave SkinnyBitch a few moments of stillness Saturday night. I had wanted to rig her in a simple suspension, something to get her mind off of present situations and maybe give her some happy floaty feelings. Unfortunately, when we checked out the Dungeon spaces, all hard points were occupied.
Instead, we headed back to our room. Our other two roomies were off having fun. We cleared our bed and, I explained what kind of binding I wanted to do. She agreed and I began.
I pulled out my rope and set it on the bed. She was already sitting in just her underwear. I suggested music. She had a song she wanted me to hear, called Lotion. For those who don't know it, think of a certain scene from Silence of the Lambs, set to music.
As it played, we both had to laugh, a good way to start. Before I put my rope on her body, I just had to let her know that, no matter what, I loved her and would always be there for her. She said she knew.
Kneeling behind her, I wrapped my rope around her chest, and created a constrictive box tie. Scouting her back, which again illicited giggles from us both, her head rested on some pillows I'd set up. I then secured her ankles together. Last, I bent her knees and tied the binding on her ankles to her thighs.
She laid there, unable to move, quiet, thinking. When she was ready, she began to talk. I listened. She cried. I stayed with her. I was silent but compassionate. I let her be. My ropes forced her to just be. When she was ready, I freed her bindings. She felt better.
She stayed in the room that night, opting to relax with one of our roommates and just watch tv. I, however, headed back out.
Big Bro had promised me some rope, and I had asked for a hard rope takedown. Finding him in one of the Dungeon spaces, I patiently waited. When it was my turn, I stripped down and stepped under his arch. I mentally prepared myself. I stretched. I breathed.
He started from behind me, wrapping his rope around my torso. He opted to secure my arms, but let my hands hang down free. His first hard jolt rocked my chest forward. His second, which included a kick to my left shoulder, knocked me down to one knee. After some more work, he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me fully down to the ground. I began sobbing. He tied one leg, then the other. My head rested on its side on the floor.
I let my tears flow, let my sobs out, let myself feel what I had been holding back. I acknowledged the pain I'd hidden from myself, acknowledged the emotions I had pushed aside. I made myself be important, instead of putting others first, just for this scene.
He began untying me. I silenced my tears, quieted my sobs. Diamond, one of his partners, brought over a rag to wipe away my snotted face. As I relaxed into Murphy's arms, he wouldn't just let it go. He told me to not hold it in, that it was ok to let go. I told him, if I started crying, I didn't know when I'd stop. He said there was nothing wrong with that.
I sobbed, again, this time harder. It started quiet, the silent screams coming out. It soon grew louder, and I really released my pain. For about a minute or two, I swam in it. Then I pulled myself out again.
Big Bro and Lil Sis hugged me. Diamond and Wyldcat, another of Murphy's partners, watched on. Murphy told me to not forget I always had people there for me. I always had someone to lean on. I didn't have to be alone. I was, in fact, surrounded.
My breathing slowed, and my sobs silenced, I cuddled with Lil Sis on the side of the arch. She refused to stop hugging me. I felt much better.
I don't know why my internal pain sometimes needs physical manipulation to manifest itself. I don't know why I, sometimes, hold it all in. I don't know why I put others first, why my own feelings seem less than how others are doing. I don't know why it is so hard for me to acknowledge my needs and wants. I just don't know.
But, for now, I am allowing myself to be sad. I am allowing myself to cry. I'm not weepy all day, languishing around the house or anything. Instead, I just don't deny what I'm feeling. I let myself feel it. That in and of itself is what I need right now. Just to feel.
And I am making myself remember there are people around me to hug and hold and just be with. Though my life is not perfect, there are some pretty fucking good parts, one of which I will talk about next.
I am a writer. I have been a writer since I was eight years old, scribbling poems in a pink papered notebook. (I don't know why the paper was pink; it was a gift. Anyway...)
I've always written stories, spun tales, though not always have I set them down on paper. There have been times in my life where I've stepped away from my writing, gone a month or two without the outlet.
I found ways to forget, ways to set aside the pressing need to put my voice to words and those words in some fashion out of my body and into the world. And yet, I've always found a way back to it, to sitting in a corner, tunnel visioned on my notebook, or in this case my netbook, and just letting the words spill out.
And so now, in my [gasp] adulthood, I am no longer allowing myself to just slip away. I am no longer allowing myself to just stop, forget, set aside this need that pulses in me every day.
This past weekend, I attended another event, for which I will give a few recaps quite soon. But I felt the need to talk on why I haven't written lately, and why I must write now.
There are times in my life when things seem overwhelming. In college, it was the level of pressure I put on myself, especially my junior and senior years. I took up a difficult degree, no matter what impression others have when they hear "Bachelor of Arts, Theatre - Design and Production."
I worked thirty hours a week for one job, five for another, attended classes full time, and worked on multiple shows a semester. Then, I faded away from writing because of lack of time and increase of stress, though if I had made the effort, I'm sure my writing would have been a great outlet for my emotions.
That was the last time my writing suffered so greatly. In between age eight and today, it's often been for short stints of a month or two between writings. I've journaled since forever, and that was a good way to keep my mind working, though my stories lacked. I suppose that's why I have this blog, my journal of my life as of now.
This weekend, though, I could have posted, but I pulled away from my writing. Each day there was plenty of time for me to stop, edit a rough draft I already had prepared, and post. However, I didn't.
Emotions are funny things. You don't always know you have them until they magically appear. And so, in the next blog, to be posted probably in about thirty minutes, I'll tell you how I found my feelings, let them out, and am now riding the wave til it ends.
