Ok, looks like we will have room for you. :)
It felt like an enclave. No, a kinky commune. No, a kinky family reunion.
We woke up together. Got ready at the same time. Drank our respective morning drinks. Shoveled loads of food and supplies into cars. Carpooled to our destination. Worked together to make the Grue run smoothly.
Went to dinner together. Came back to the AfterGrue with each other. At the end of the night, cleaned up. Closed the building.
Made our way back home. For during that weekend the house was all our home. Crashed and went to bed at the same time.
Got up again at the same time. Rode to pancakes. And then we started our parting.
For a weekend, I shared a home with six other people. I felt welcomed, cared for, by the kinksters around me. By TwistedView and K2, who opened up their home to us. And by those who shared the domicile with me. We broke bread together, shared space, laughed and chatted. We were in and among one another.
There is a certain type of euphoria in the midst of an event. I get that. But I loved this more. Not only did we attend the Grue together, we shared almost all parts of our lives for a weekend. I loved the morning hustle, the ordered chaos, as much as the presentations and play that would follow.
I loved the warm honey water. Listening to a Katt Williams sound clip. Cookies fresh out of the oven. Sitting around the kitchen island for an hour, or just the ten minutes before we had to run out.
I loved being a part of this temporary family unit, only for a weekend, but immersed in care and love.
Attention and affection; two simple concepts, yet it has taken me time and thoughtful introspection to realize they are the two major necessities I need in a relationship.
I want a partner who will spend time with me. Not around me, but with me. I need simple attention: a meal where we bitch about our respective jobs; watching a movie on NetFlix; going for a jog with me in the neighborhood; testing our duel trivia knowledges via Jeopardy! It doesn't need to be fancy, but give me the time.
I also want someone who shows affection towards me. Hugs and kisses, yes. But also holding hands. Back rubs. Gentle caresses. Playing with my hair (bonus points!). Cuddles. Snuggles.
Without attention and affection, I cannot be happy in a relationship.
There was a moment a week and a half ago. It was the Sunday after the Grue Pitt. Everyone was tired, exhausted really, winding down from the event. Gray, TwistedView, K2, and myself gathered in the living room to watch random action movies.
At one point, TwistedView and K2 snuggled on the LoveSac while Gray and I did the same on the couch. Gray lightly rubbed my back, my arm. We were watching either From Dusk Til Dawn or Game of Thrones. It was nothing big; just some down time to relax our brains and bodies.
And then, in a flash, it hit me: This is awesome. I want this. I should find someone for this back home.
Ding ding ding.
Because that's the thing: I live here and he lives there. Our lives are separated by hundreds of miles. When we are together, it's great, amazing really, but our lives make it so our time together is fleeting. Thems be the breaks.
I wanted to kick myself when the obvious hit me upside my head.
It was exactly what Doc has been talking about. Love, real love, isn't a series of highs and lows. It's steady. A baseline that's always there. Yes, it will have its moments, but the foundation lies in daily consistent care.
I yearn for attention and affection from someone regularly in my life. I want snuggles on the couch and cuddles in bed each night. I want someone to lean on, and to take care of, not just on special days, but every day.
I don't like that, when thinking about any as yet partner, thoughts veer towards my Ex. I don't like remembering snuggling with him on the couch or sleeping with him at night. I don't like that he is still a small part of my life (the occasional run in at work).
It is so tempting to go backwards, to try again. Not tempting enough, though, for me to do it. There were far too many things wrong with our relationship for me to go back to him. But tempting still.
It hurts, my current situation. Because I know I did have that bond with someone before. I know it's possible, making the not having it that much worse.
I do have attention and affection now, occasionally, on special days. When I get it, I feel this sense of ease. Of excitement, of course, but also of stillness. A knowing that yes, this is right. This is what I want, what I need. A gladness for my life in those days.
But I yearn for more than my special days, as cherished as they are to me. I yearn for constant love, daily care, dependable attention and affection.
As you might have guessed, since the Grue Pitt, I edited my OKC profile again. I'm trying to find a poly munch. I'm keeping my eyes and heart open. And I'm hoping.
Slowly, surely.
"Your brain is unlike any I've seen before."
I laid on a table in the middle of a study, head tied down so I would not move. TwistedView loomed over me as Neuromancer sat by his computer, watching as the data came in. An EEG helmet rested against my skin, multiple points touching through my hair, reading my brainwaves all the while.
First TwistedView punched my chest. I took in the pain and pushed it back out through my breathing. Next he struck my chest with his cane. I used my shrieks and cries to take in and release his strikes. He repeated this pattern, punching first and then caning, my thighs.
For a few last readings, Neuromancer delicately stroked my right leg.
Once complete, I sat up and we chatted.
Neuromancer marveled at how my brain worked throughout the small scene. I never went away, always staying present in the moment. For him, when he was in throws of pain, he lost himself in the sensations. Other masochists he'd previously scanned lost themselves as well, floating away during their scenes. But my brain never stopped processing as I felt each blow inflicted upon me.
He asked me to talk about my experience of the scene. I explained that my masochism was rooted, at times, in almost a sense of service. The pain the person wanted to inflict on me I took in, processed, and expelled back out into the world through my breathing, my shrieks, my cries.
Yes, I still loved it. Loved the pain. Loved experiencing it, processing it, and seeing how far my body could be pushed. But I also loved the simple act of being the vessel for the sadist's torments, being that which the sadist used to fulfill their dark desire.
When I told my friends about Neuromancer's findings, my Big Bro summed it up best:
"Poetic, over thinking things? Who would've guessed?"
/snark
"I'm leaving."
"When?"
"Like, right now."
He was pissed. He was really pissed. He stood up and started punching my chest. For a moment I wondered if my missed playdate with TwistedView would happen right there.
As I back peddled, somehow Murphy added into the mix, suggesting he could punch my back while TwistedView attacked my front. I was having none of that.
I screamed no. And then I ran. Like seriously ran. TwistedView grabbed onto me, but I clawed my way free, sprinting onto the asphalt path. I turned and saw the two of them slowly approaching.
"No. I'm serious guys. No."
Still, they crept forward.
"Are you going to call red?"
"I don't want to, but I will if I have to."
Their menacing stares receded. They gave assurances they were done.
Instead of punching me, they wanted to hug me bye. The two of them surrounded me. And then Murphy asked the magical question.
"How are you? It's seemed like you've been off this camp."
And then I could finally say it, could finally reveal the weight on my heart. I missed all the people that weren't there.
Life is life. You cannot predict it. Sometimes you're just along for the ride.
Some of people at the last FetFest were not there this year, but there were two that pierced my heart to its core. Lil Sis was out of the country and Gray was in Hawaii.
As I drove to camp, I realized their absences were the source of my reluctance to go in the first place. It took me til 3pm to arrive even though I had planned to show up as soon as registration opened (11am).
I thought about them the whole time I was there. I remembered all the joy I had with them this past year and the many wonderful moments from last FetFest. As hard as I tried to fall into my camp experience, I couldn't shake my dark cloud.
It didn't matter that I knew I would see Gray in a week. It didn't matter that I knew I was heading to London in a month. They weren't there. And as much as I wanted to love my event, it just didn't feel the same to me without them.
When I left on Sunday I was sad to go but also relieved. I didn't have to try to hide my sadness, didn't have to push myself to participate, didn't have to be on, didn't have to do anything. I could just be me, sad-quiet-people-missing-not-funtastic-at-the-moment me.
It's hard for me to give my pain voice. And, because of that, I did not have the event I could've.
"Is there anything else you could use to wet the cigar?"
"Why yes, there is."
It had been on my mind for quite some time. Would I? Could I? Should I?
I'd even thought of a fun name, spunky and cute, yah know like me.
But then came the nerves. The self doubt.
I'll just be a student today; I don't need to present. I'll learn so much from all the people here; my voice isn't needed.
But when the white board still had open spots, when the opportunity flashed itself in front of me, I couldn't just let it go.
Still, there was the logistical problem.
"Gray, should I put up a class?"
"Why not?"
"It's cigar play."
"Make it a discussion."
I quickly got up, got a piece of paper from Lqqkout, hastily scribbled down Cigar Play - poeticdesires, and added my passion to the board. (So much for the spunky name.)
After some rearranging, I was slated for 4:30pm in section 6 of the main room. Before flitting off to demo bottom for my first class, my friend Scotty approached.
"I'll help you with the cigar play class."
"Great!"
And then the moment came.
Funny enough, for the previous class session, I attended Inretrepida's Can You Tie Your Shoes? Great, Let's Have A Rope Scene in the same section of the ballroom where I would be teaching. Slut took pleasure in tying me up, pulling my hair, beating me, and sucking on my nipples. Quite a great way to warm up for my class.
As people cycled in and out of the rooms, I set my stuff to the side and pulled up a chair. Scotty also arrived and pulled up a seat.
"Oh, the chair I got was for you."
I put my chair to the side. He sat in his seat while I took my place on the floor. We began.
Cigar play is the one kink I exclusively bottom to, so with Scotty there, I felt the discussion would be complete. He would give the top's perspective and I would speak for the bottoms.
I introduced myself, as did Scotty, and then I started talking about my passion. I spoke about smoke, heat, and ash. I discussed safety hazards and tips for cigar bottoms. I went over three catergories of play: ritual, service, and submission.
And, of course, a few of my friends were in attendance, namely Gray & TwistedView. I'm not sure if they were hecklers or shills.
For their enjoyment, and the others in the class, I demonstrated how to wet the end of a cigar.
"Is there anything else you could use to wet the cigar?" Gray asked.
"Why yes, there is."
I mentioned how I could've used my pussy juices, but Scotty and I are not fluid bonded. There was also the suggestion of blood. And semen. This section was an interesting turn in our conversation.
As our time ran out, and everyone had to depart, I of course pimped an event that evening, Cigars, Boots, and Chocolate. It felt like I was giving people homework, but more fun. Hmm... maybe it was more like extra credit.
People dispersed. I flitted off to another class.
But, for a shiny thirty minutes, I got to speak about my passion. I sat in front of a group of people and talked to them about a subject I knew and loved.
For once, instead of being the Teacher's Pet, I was the presenter.
Since it was to be a day of back-to-back classes, I dressed as School Gir: green Gir collared t-shirt with a tie, Gir hot pants, my Zim jacket, my Gir lanyard, a pair of black thigh high socks, and my black Vans.
Heading down stairs, I was more than excited. It felt like I was bouncing off the walls.
However, when I took a side elevator, I didn't realize I'd end up in a back hallway of the hotel. With some assistance from a hotel staffer, I found my way through the correct door and out into the fray.
The first person I glimpsed that I knew was TwistedView. He stood at the front of a small side room, RopenSpace t-shirt on, head set in ear. We greeted with a hug. Then I noticed his RopenSpace pin.
"Where can I get one of those?"
"The merch table."
He pointed not twenty-five feet behind me.
"Great. Thanks."
As I walked towards the table, Gray stepped into my path.
"You're suppose to go the other way."
"I was just grabbing a RopenSpace pin from the merch table."
"Go that way."
He turned me around.
"Um...Um... I'll get it later." I threw my decision over my shoulder to TwistedView as Gray ushered me and many others into the main ballroom.
There were multiple chairs setup around a small stage with aisles so you could easily walk up to the small platform. I took a front row seat and waited. Next to me sat some friends.
Before the festivities began, as more and more people took their seats, the topic of self suspension came up. All four of us had experience self suspending and began batting ideas off of one another. One person talked about an alternative to a normal chest harness, and then demonstrated the technique to us. Our RopenSpace started just a little early.
At the very front of the room stood a plain white board; it was our yet to be determined schedule. This day would be created by us, for us. This was to be my first open space experience.
As the chairs filled up, and more folks in black RopenSpace t-shirts arrived, I could feel the anticipation in the room swelling. It was like the slow climb up a roller coaster. The pulse of the nerves in your stomach. The want to get to the top. But also the fear, and, excitement of what would happen when you fell.
"Welcome everyone to Shibaricon's first RopenSpace!"
