I finally got in a whole bunch of quality time with Sweetie
last weekend, yay! Saturday night was a complicated adventure I ended up being
really proud of. It started with an awesome gig—I was reading poems and smut at
a benefit for my friend’s top surgery. In the dressing room, a six-and-a-half
foot radical faerie let me borrow from her amazing glitter palette to outline
my eyes and draw a cute pink heart on my check. The host surprised me with
birthday cake and everybody sang—I really think it’s been one of the best
birthdays ever.
Sweetie and I had a play party date afterwards. I was
apologetic about having to leave early to go get my ass beat, but they were
very understanding. I told my radical faerie friend I’d like to just follow her
around, and she thought that was just fine.
Sweetie and I ran into some trickiness on the way to the
party, though—she’d stayed in the room while I read about my scene with MisterHazel Eyes, and she was a little shell shocked. She’s not a voyeur, and hearing
it just made her feel competitive and grumpy. I was frustrated that I had to
stop and feel guilty after I’d just had such a good experience. Plus, we were
going to the venue where I first played publicly with Fireguy, so there was a
worry that I might run into him. And I was still missing MHE a whole bunch—it’s
only been a few weeks.
In the end, though, we were able to comfort each other and
our need to play together trumped our respective worries. I think there’s no
reason she should have to read the posts that aren’t about her, especially
since I’ve got so many nice voyeurs like yourselves to help fill my showoffy
needs. Thanks thanks thanks! XOXOXOXO.
This party was crowded—there wasn’t a lot of furniture to go
around, which means we got to see some amazing floor play. The scene next to
us, wherein the guy was holding his girl down and showing her crotch to the
room, alternately slapping her face and furiously rubbing her clit over her hot
pink underwear--I found them very inspiring. Same goes for the woman with the
amazing ponytail who was wrapped in a glittery pink blanket and getting flogged
with silver tinsel strands for a nice take on aftercare. You could see why I’d
need a blindfold to concentrate on what was happening to me…
Sweetie found a nice well-lit spot along the wall and spread
out a shiny scarf for me to stand on. I took off my heels and Sweetie pulled of
my low-cut pink nightie. I’d asked at the door “Could you elucidate the nipple
policy?” and they said they have to be covered so I had on my Hello Kitty tape.
(Most of the other girls were not following the nipple policy, by the way. So
much to see!) I was wearing my lacy pink lucky underwear and I worried for a
second about being too fat, but then ropes started happening and I felt better.
She started with these pretty pink handcuffs:
She tried to pull my arms behind my head and secure them
there with a rope around my waist, but that only lasted for a second—I couldn’t
figure out where to put my head. I was getting distracted so she put on my nice
soft blindfold. I am really starting to fall in love with being blindfolded,
even though it was a limit just a few months ago.
By the time she got me into a good harness, a St. Andrew’s
cross had opened up. She tied the handcuffs to the top and tied my ankles to
the bottom of the cross so that I had to stand with my legs apart—she was
excited that she’s finally mastered the Somerville bowline, but I couldn’t
quite high-five her. The green ropes she used on my ankles glowed in the
blacklight. Once I was settled in, she started on the spanks. I was kind of
exhausted already, so I didn’t think it would take long. She used her hands and
our little pink kooshlike flogger. When she pulled my hair, I realized why I’m
not loud with her during scenes the way I am in the bedroom: she makes my
insides go silent. As she pulled at the back of my hair, just a little more
painfully than I expected, there was no noise or words that could’ve expressed
the relief that I felt.
The best part of the play party came when this song came on:
I was standing around
in my harness, winding up the restraint ropes to put them away. I Fink U Freeky came on and I danced
around a little—I lost self-consciousness in a new way and just danced there in
my undies and ropes, filling up with giggly well-being.
I stuck my ass out and she thwacked it in time to the music.
She was sitting in a tall chair and I bent all the way into downward dog with
my (wet, obviously) crotch on her knee and she played my ass like a drum. I
laughed and laughed—I don’t think I’ve ever felt more myself.
I wore my ropes all through aftercare, and I didn’t want to
take them off after that either, so I wore them home under my dress.
