Confidence

It was a great weekend. Though I never did get to use the nurse outfit. Word to the wise: when you try something on over clothing, and the shop owner says “Don’t worry. The boobs will fit, no problem” they LIE!

Back to the private party. It was reaching the end. I was tired too tired to do anything except enjoy the smell of other people’s sweat on my skin. It was time to go back to Evan’s place for a few hours of sleep before the drive home.

I went around saying bleary goodbyes to the remaining guests (who weren’t otherwise occupied, of course.)

There was this one guy whom I had seen around all weekend, but had barely interacted with. Quite attractive, albeit a bit shorter than I. He didn’t seem to be wanting for distraction during the party. I had popped into mattress room at some point, to see him naked at the top of the mattress pile, pulling off a freshly used condom, as a girl I couldn’t immediately recognize, looked to be curled up next to him in a little ball.

However, I didn’t actually speak to him until I said my goodbyes.

I went over to him and his companion and tried to speak as coherently as I could (I was well past the point of exhaustion). I said something about how I was sad I didn’t get a chance to talk with them more, gave both of them big hugs, and gave him a peck on the mouth. He looked startled.

“What?” I asked

He sputtered for a moment “Well, umm… It’s just that I try to keep my distance at these kind of things, to… You know… Respect people’s space and stuff. And I’d been wanting to come up to you for a while now, but I didn’t want to push…”

“Well,” I said “you never know unless you ask.”

“Yeah, well, I just didn’t think you’d be interested.”

I smiled “Clearly, pretty girls need to come up and kiss you more often.”

I turned around to say goodbye to a few more friends, only to pass him again on my way out the door. He looked vaguely in shock.

“Ok” he said “so when you first came over here, I was turned on. And when you left, I was still turned on, but very confused..”

His companion laughed at this… My eyelids were starting to give out.

“Well, sadly, you caught me on my way out. It’s not that I don’t think you’re attractive or wouldn’t want to play with you, but I’m on the verge of collapse.”

I saw things start to misfire in the poor boy’s brain.

“Wait… What? You said I’m attractive?”

I laughed again. “You just stand there looking bewildered. It’s adorable.”

With that, I grabbed my coat.

“Wow,” I heard him exclaim as I walked towards the door. “I’m, like… Plaid!”

It was very sweet. I thought so, at least.

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Release

The scene started lightly enough. I was at a private play party with many old friends and flirtations. These were the people who brought me into my kinky self, and looked out for me as I made my way through this universe when it was still new and strange. I was home.

Not fifteen minutes after I put down my stuff and said my round of hellos, when the host decided that my stomach begged to be bitten. He has a thing, apparently, for biting pretty girls. My other friend was more than happy to help facilitate this. The next thing I know, I was standing in the hallway with my jeans around my knees, with my friend letting his hands wander where they may as the host provided running commentary on this impromptu scene.

Then I was pulled into one of the empty play rooms. My pants came off, and the whole mood changed.

I let the pain flow through me – out through my fingertips and into the mattress. Face down. Ass exposed. I closed my eyes and let myself feel the sting each time his hand connected with my skin. A groan spilled out of my throat with each strike.

“You like that, don’t you, little slut? See how turned on you are because I’m making your ass turn red?”

I nodded. I’m pretty sure that’s what he said, cliche as it sounds, though his words barely registered. I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want to think. I wanted the outside world to fade so that nothing remained but sensation.

At some point, he switched to a belt. I watched my own body buckle under each hit.

The hits subsided, and I felt his hair sweeping from my ass to the small of my back and down again. He keeps his hair in a pony-tail that goes halfway down his back. The sensation was too strange and silly. It broke my concentration, and I dissolved into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“I don’t think you take me seriously!” He chided and wailed into me with his belt. I stopped laughing and fell back into my head.

All of the thoughts that had been doing cartwheels in my brain darted across the backs of my eyelids, as if I were watching them from the window of a moving train.

“Do you want more?” He said after some time had passed.

I nodded. In that moment, I craved physical pain; a concrete sensation my brain could latch onto and make sense of. That jumble of thoughts was too messy, to scary for me to face on my own. His hand landed on my ass with a loud, decisive clap, and I sunk even deeper into my body.

And then, the claps stopped raining down on my ass. He turned me on my back and stroked my cheek.

“Good girl. And since you were so good, I’m going to let you get yourself off.”

I did. At the moment of my release, I let out a sound too primal to be pleasure. As this cry dislodged itself from my throat, what started as the shocks and spasms of orgasm transformed into heaving sobs. The ecstasy left my face, which crumpled into a mask of all the pain that I had been keeping safely bottled inside.

He held me to his chest and stroked my hair as I cried.

“That’s a good girl. Just let it out. You’re safe here.”

I don’t know how long he held me there as I stained his shirt with sniffles and tears. I eventually dislodged myself to reach for a nearby box of tissues.

“Long week, huh?” He asked.

I wiped my eyes. “Oh, God. You have no idea. I ended a relationship with someone I still really care about this past week, and it’s still kind of hurts.”

He gave a sympathetic wince. “Just remember, you’re among friends here. If you need to be emotional and weepy, that’s ok.”

“I know. And I’m grateful.” I blew my nose loudly. “Funny, though. I thought I was over the uncontrollable crying stage.”

“Yeah, well. That’s not how these things work.”

“I know. It was pretty foolish of me to think I could heal in a week.”

“Not foolish, just… overly optimistic.”

“But, yeah. It’s been a really rough week.”

“And I just gave you a release.” He replied “You’d been bottling all of this pain, and hopefully, you’ve now let go of enough of it so that you can enjoy the rest of the weekend.”

And he was right. I can’t say I was sunshine and rainbows the whole time. I definitely had my bouts of sadness, but overall, I felt lighter. And that helped carry me through.

Mid Day Sex Store Surrealism

So I’m off to Boston this weekend to see Evan and go to a Science Fiction convention. Why yes, I am a geek, why do you ask?

I love Scifi, but I don’t have the attention span to sit through a lot of panels, so whenever I go to this con, I usually join the Naughty Nurse Blood Drive.

The Drive is run by The Heinlein Society. (I hope I’m getting that right.) Basically, a bunch of hot girl geeks dress up in skanky nurse outfits, and sign people up to give blood. (there’s a mobile blood bank outside of the con) The idea is that all of the geeks will be so stunned by the hotness, that they agree. If sex sells, it might as well get people to donate blood.

Anyway, in my hurried packing, I could not find my nurse outfit to save my life! I was full of sad. Today, since I had to leave for the con from work, I had no other choice but to stop by one of the kink/sex kitsch stores by my office during my lunch break and pick one up.

I walked in and went right up to one of the sales women.
“I have a weird question for you.”

She rolled her eyes a bit. “Oh, honey.” she sighed “there are no weird questions here.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s weird because it has nothing to do with sex.”

She laughed “Oh, well that’s a whole other story. What do you need?”

I explained about the drive and needing to pick up a nurse outfit. She took me to their costume department. I had never seen so many slutty nurse outfits in my life.

They didn’t have a changing room, so I stood in the middle of the store, trying to shimmy into one outfit after another, trying to get a feel for how each outfit would look without jeans. Meanwhile, she and I quipped back and forth.

“So how about this one?” I was in a black faux latex number.

She scrunched her nose. “that may be a bit too fetishy for what you’re going for.”

I decided not to get into a greater discussion about the nature of fetish, and simply said “That may not be such a bad thing. I mean the overlap between the pervert and geek community is huge.”

“You’re so right!”

“It’s funny to go to a kink event and ask one of the people there ‘hey didn’t I see you at that Scifi thing?’ which they fervently deny. Meanwhile their cock is tied up with a bright neon string.” I was in rare form today. Not that a kinkster would deny his or her geekery, but whatever.

I settled on a shiny red one with a corset style top and flared mini skirt.
I asked if she put the outfit in two black plastic bags instead of one, since I had to take it back to my office.

“You don’t want your coworkers to ask questions?” she asked as she swiped my credit card.

“Well, sort of.” I said “If they’re gonna suspect me of something, I’d rather they suspect me for something interesting.”

I took my newly purchased outfit, bid the nice lady farewell, and headed back to work.

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Davalochka no more

I’ve decided to put my service to Gray on indefinite hiatus.

Yes I made the right decision. No I won’t discuss the details here.

I just wanted to prevent gushing emails to me about how amazing our dynamic is while I’m still processing and mourning.

So if I take a break from this space, that’s why.

I’ll come back to writing when I have happy and filthy things to report.

I see Evan and my Boston community next weekend, so I’m trying to stay focused on that right now.

If I know you offline, I may give you a redacted version in private, but I’m not one to air dirty laundry in public spaces, which this blog very much is.

See you perverts soon, I hope.

I thank you in advance for your patience.

Crush is a Many Flavored Thing

I love getting crushes on people. That slight raise of blood pressure, that flush of the cheek. For example, at the Toronto GRUE, I developed a huge gay crush on the rope top Dart and his boy. They are two incredibly beautiful people. No interest in women whatsoever. Which is fine! If they were interested in bio females, it would defeat the purpose of a gay crush.

Not all of my crushes have sexual intention behind them, which is part of what makes them so delicious.

I have many intellectual crushes too. My adoration for Lee Harrington has an element of intellectual crush. It’s not an overwhelming urge to jump his bones that I have. It’s an overwhelming urge to sit with him in a room and pick at his big, sexy brain for HOURS.

It fills the same weird little lizard brain instinct to take joy in admiring from a near distance.

I collect crushes much the way Nabokov collected butterfies… Well, I don’t exactly scour the country side with a crush net. But each type of crush has its own little place and classification.

In addition to the two crushes above, I have kink crushes galore… People who I look at and wonder what it would feel like to cower under their boot. Recently, I’ve met a few boys who are so pretty, I just want to hurt them.

My dear friend C is dating someone who elicits that in me. Except he’s a top. Go figure. This is a relatively new urge, and unusual, considering how much I’ve been on a submissive streak as of late.

There are kiss crushes and snuggle crushes and I want to see the world through your eyes crushes. The list continues to grow. I think I might have a crush fetish… Though I prefer to consider myself a connoisseur.

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I Think I’ve Found My Calling

Like I said in my last post, my class went remarkably well, especially considering it was my first class.

Well, ok. I had a couple of things going for me, not the least of which was the fact that Graydancer was my demo top. Plus, he stripped me naked and humiliated me in front of a large group of people. That’s bound to draw a crowd.
But still, I feel pretty confident that I was able to hold my own both before and after the demo.

For the demo portion of the class, Gray tied six knots on a length of mfp rope. He had me straddle the rope so it was snug against my girl bits and had me go over each knot. Each time I went over a knot, a member of the audience got up and read something that Gray had written that was intended to humiliate and knock me down. Each note got progressively more humiliating with each knot. I was proud to say I made it through all six knots. It started with “How could you be so careless as to get Gray’s flight information wrong” to “Gray’s played with and fucked some of the most beautiful, amazing women in the scene, what makes you so special?” I’m paraphrasing.

Not only was I able to make it through all the knots and allow myself to be vulnerable and listen to strangers read me things intended to trigger deep seeded insecurities, but also, at the end, I was able to put my dress back on and snap right back into presenter mode.

“So,” I asked as I reclothed myself. “how did that make you feel?”

I think the speed with which I shifted gears took some people off guard. Anyway. It sparked a really good discussion, and I have lots of ideas for how to flesh the class out for the next time I teach it.

I really love to teach. And teaching kink, well that’s a combination of two of my passions right there. It feels right, like something I was meant to do.

I know I’m a good teacher and that I have a strong presence in front of a classroom. The only thing that had been stopping me was the fear that I didn’t know anything well enough to teach it or to speak authoritatively on it. Since, after all, I’m not really a top, I don’t have a lot of practical skills wielding implements or tying rope.

But this makes me realize that there are some things that I can teach pretty easily. Maybe something on non traditional relationship dynamics, how to be a good bottom – either a demo bottom or otherwise. I can take some of the rants and conceptions of kink that swim through my head on a daily basis and give them some practical form.

Where once I saw walls, now I see endless possibilities. Here’s hoping that this event marks the start of a new journey.

Black Phoenix

A longer post is pending. I write this sitting in the vending area of the event as Graydancer kibbitzes with friends and adoring fans.
My humiliation play class went well. Much better than I expected. I’ll write more about it when I’m home and have had a chance to decompress. But I wanted to share a photo taken after Gray’s defining moments class. Since there was no available white board, he wrote on my back.
At the end of the class, my back was covered in multiple colored notes written in sharpie.

Enjoy.

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