Saturday morning started off in a fairly unexpected yet partially planned way. I had talked with K3 the day before about the fact that ya know, I am interested in you, but you like to hurt people, and I can’t be bruised. He of course asked “So where *can* I mark you?” I, like the smart ass that I am responded: On my mons, my labia, the top of my head and the inside of my ass.
He tried to bruise all of them and succeeded in the first 3.
Whoever taught K3 his techniques as a lover should be given a medal. I am a tart, I admit that freely, and have stopped counting how many lovers and play partners that I have had. I enjoy sexuality in it’s myriad forms. I dislike those folks who say things like “look I have a big ____, don’t you want me?” I am impressed by folks who know their bodies and know how to use them well. I am doubly impressed when that person is a consummate sadist and also happens to be well endowed. I am triply impressed when that person has *literally* done their homework on me and wants to push me to higher and higher ecstacy. K3 and I, in short, had an amazing morning. p(K3) watched on, our delicious submissive voyeur, as he made me soak the bed through with my cum and menses, and G cursed when she had to run to get down to work. Okay, so I missed Dov’s class. I think he forgave me.
After our showers, we hopped downstairs to have K3 relieve G at the booth, while I snuck over and peeked in on Master Jack’s suspension class, FemCar hung upside down and being examined like a piece of meat. Phantom and I chatted for a bit before I touched base with Blue. The plan was to leave for International Mr. Leather’s Vendor Hall (the largest kink shopping experience in the world) around 1pm. We actually left around 3. But the reasons were good, and by being delayed we acquired CC, our English bus-riding beauty. I bought a wedding present for Furry before we left too… amazing work.
What a crew- Dov, CC, Blue, Widow and I set forth for the event. What a huge event. The leather clad men everywhere, each one a hunk in their own style- from gray bears to young muscle men in diapers, to latex clad sex pots and the occasional dyke or fag hag to be seen. Wow. We split up- the LA pair in one direction, we 3 geeks in another. When we hit the bootblack stand, CC decided to have her boots done, and the 3 of us split up- probably good because Dov got sucked into the whip stand and I wanted to see it all. I did. I all but ran at times, and stopped and drooled at others- but I saw the whole place. At 6 the 5 of us all met up again, CC having been fitted for a corset, Dov having drooled, Dov and I having rubbed shoulders with Van Darkholm, it was crazy. We even got free condoms that fit Dov, how nice is that? And I walked away with pockets full of business cards- including one from an erotic hypnosis video distributor whose work looked good. While chatting with him I got to talk to a guy from Germany about baby steps of learning auto-erotic visualization skills before plunging headlong into forced change-of-personality scenes using hypnosis. Yup, Furry and I definitely need to teach that class. Hell, I just need put under more often. ((Maybe this week??? Hmmm… must seduce my computer-addicted Owner…))
Then off to dinner by way of more chocolate- dinner itself was unexciting, but the group panel over how to help Dov’s dearest overcome her needs was hilarious. How often do I get to say “I’m glad we weren’t kicked out”… but we weren’t. Widow found the local comedy club, hoorah.
Waiting for the valet to bring the car back, the migranes descended, and by the time we were back at the hotel, I was in misery.
And yet I had to spin.
Apparently Friday night the DJ was SO bad that they fired him. Baby noises and all. So when MorTis called CC asking if she had music, silly me stepped up to the plate. By the response I got, turns out I’m not bad at mixing. I’ve always loved mixing CDs, and dungeon music for private events, but this was my first attempt at something for a group this large (except music for my own performances at places like PDX Fetish Ball and Black Rose). Sunday night I was complimented for my live spinning of dungeon deconstruction music at 3am. I was very happy. I mixed sets for Friday and Saturday night, and basically fell into neutrality. I popped Amidrine, I tried to be vaguely social, I watched and I lingered. Folks had fun, I stayed vaguely awake, and eventually I said crew it and went upstairs to change. Headache or no, I wasn’t going to have a horrid time at the Saturday night dungeon. I threw on my Edwardian lingerie and corsets, and presented myself to Lochai.
I’ve adore the work on Lochai’s site for a long time, and over the last 3 years we’ve had a lot of emails back and forth. He’s helping Jurgen at Secret magazine with a lot of projects, plus is an amazing rope artist. Beyond all that- he’s a great guy to hang out with, and I look forward to seeing him again. He started by suspending me, elbows tied back tight, then moved on to pulling me in odd directions on the floor, breasts exposed, as his partner Tattoi snapped away. It was great. Afterwards he moved on to taking more pictures (that man never stops) while I went off to try to be social, still clinging to the last of my headache.
Then Dov and I began our dance. No, literally. He tied me up and I danced for him, which progressed into lines around my arms and throat, which progressed into predicaments, which progressed into hot stories whispered in my ears. It’s funny, how fast you can become completely comfortable with the ways roles change. And yet they don’t. They evolve. They are. We are. Between 2 scenes, lots of time together as we’d been promising each other for years, and an amazing conversation Sunday that snapped me into reality and let me cry… I’m blessed to have him in my life.
We shut down the dungeon… and I took my laptop upstairs, and curled up on the bed with p(K3) and fell fast into sleep.