In other words: "squee!!" After Master and i attended Thunder in the Mountains last July, we realized (again) just how much we missed being part of the community. When we started out, we were regular attendees of the local PEP (People Exchanging Power), and loved it. We met great people, we had a lot of fun, and we really had the space to experiment with our play. We committed ourselves to finding a way to make ourselves part of the closest local scene again, and this month, we managed to fulfill our early 2012 resolution. The timing all worked out, and though we got lost in our once familiar haunt, we found ourselves at the door.
Inside, we saw familiar faces, and though the traffic and getting lost had left a smudge on our initial moods, watching others engaging in their own scenes lifted our spirits and our excitement and we started looking for a place to play. Master and i really were looking for space to play with the Victor Tella signal whips we picked up at Thunder, and of course, some room for some serious martial arts inspired impact play. It was pretty crowded, so we weren't sure we'd find just the right spot.
It worked out that as soon as Master and i were really ready to get the ball rolling, one scene wrapped up (and was unwrapped - a little rope-pun) and Master and i experimented with the available space. Though many people comment on our pictures over on FetLife about how sexy i am, and many people tell me in person, i admit i have body-hang-ups. Master talked me through them, and pretty soon, i was happily cuffed and Master was whipping away. He started out with the flogger, and though i know it, i don't really remember it clearly. i fell into the scene fast. Nothing remains but the memory of movement, a bite of the tails of the pretty floggers, and Master's gloves. But the Dragon Tongue i do remember; it's pretty red tail biting and "cutting" into my flesh, the way it would lovingly wrap around my ribs to bite the flesh of my breasts, licked around my hips, and landed on my calves. i remember stomping my feet, sometimes turning around to look at Master as the tongue licked at whatever new target i gave Him. i was deep into the sensations of it all. Deep into the energy changing hands between Master and i. He took my pain and devoured it. i took His cruelty and lapped it up.
Even though Master and i have found that i do appreciate the sting of the whips far more than i appreciate more of a thud against me; there is one thud that i cannot get enough of... The feeling of Master using His limbs upon me as weapons. i begged Him to skip the whips, to kick me. As He is ever so kind, He agreed, and re-positioned me so there would be ample room for His intentions. i remember counting two sets of ten, but Master wasn't done with just 20. When i couldn't remember how to keep counting, i was on the verge of good tears. As much as i would have enjoyed crying for Him, i enjoyed what came next at least as much. Now that there was no counting, i was just a punching bag. There was no time to cry, and all i could do was laugh and howl with the joy of the pain Master gave me. Master kicked me, front kicks, side kicks, round kicks...and His fists were a flurry as well. Punches, slaps, and i think i felt a few well placed ridge-hands, landed upon my back, ribs and thighs. my legs crumpled under me as Master used His knowledge of pressure points against me. Left with quivering legs, kneeling upon the floor, held upright only by the cuffs, Master landed a few more blows upon me.
He brought me water (we learned from Thunder...we had it in our scene bag, along with some emergency chocolate and one of my favorite blankets), and we cleared the space for the next players. Initially, i thought i'd want to just curl up somewhere and nurse my sore legs, but once i was following Master i realized that moving felt far better, and we wandered around to watch a few other players. A good friend, one of our fist friends from the scene, was there and had his claws out. On my already sore body, they were almost like little single jolts of electricity.
Before long, Master and i were set up again, with His jute quickly wrapping around me. There's not a lot from this part that i remember well, either, because i was really just a happy puddle of lovely neurotransmitter goop. Master asked me if i wanted to walk around, but that was pretty beyond my coordination levels, so He bound me down and ripped a couple of orgasms out of my body.
When He'd let me loose, i was pretty quick to bounce back to being frisky, and running away after He'd threatened to spray cold water all over me...
Being there was really, truly great. Fulfilling. We met people, old friends and new friends; had great scenes, connected with our inner Sadist and masochist (well - His Sadist, my masochist) in a way we haven't been able to for a while, and had a grand time indulging in our desires...
It was absolutely, spectacularly, awesome.
The sex at the hotel after the event and the next morning was pretty awesome, too.
And. i who almost never bears marks on my legs, ass or back... Have marks lingering from the event, and a lovely, lingering soreness...
We're seriously looking forward to our next chance!
(taps fingers...)
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