Sunday, November 29, 2009
Mind you, I'm not talking spur-of-the-moment casual play at a spanking party. I'm sure there's a huge mental checklist the brain thumbs through when someone says, "So, do you wanna go play?" like: Is he a creeper? Is she a psycho? How will he play? Is he careful? Those kinds of questions most certainly (hopefully!) enter a mind, but that's not what I'm talking about, really.
I'm talking about attraction. What draws us in to play with another, beyond the casual impromptu play? Certainly there can be a physical attraction. Other times, it's seeing a person play with another and thinking, "I'd like to try that." Beyond those obvious, and rather superficial, aspects of attraction, what lies beneath?
Attraction can take on many forms beyond those first impressions. Perhaps it's the honesty or sincerity in which the person speaks or presents themselves. Perhaps it's a certain self-assured way they hold themselves. It could be a glowering disposition in a disciplinary top, or the sexy vulnerability of a diminutive bottom. Sometimes the attraction comes from a certain connection, a kind of sixth sense between two people or as the result of an intense scene together, a feeling of closeness that cannot be articulated.
For me, it's many of those things. Sometimes a purely physical attraction. Others, and often after that initial impression, it's a kinship from like interests in play, often it is that almost psychic bond I can share with those I feel close to. Other times, it's the attractiveness of that vulnerability, or the desire to simply make a bottom feel special, wanted, cared for, attended to.
By nature, I'm a fixer and a pleaser. When I have a successful scene, it's because I've resolved a conflict, conundrum, confusion or issue within a bottom that can only be resolved with a good punishment or disciplinary scene. And in so doing, I please those I top. Two critical things in what I get out the lifestyle. But more importantly, it's that attraction--sometimes animal, sometimes almost spiritual--that binds us all together in this weird thing we all do.
What attracts you?
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Once a year, Threshold (a local BDSM group/club in L.A.) holds their Bizarre Bazaar, a flea-market/kink mall/sale-o-thon. This year it was at Bar Sinister in Hollywood. My wife and I spent two and a half hours (and much, much more money than I care to admit) buying some whips, crops, leather pants, straps, floggers...Oh! It was like Kinky Christmas!
We ran into many friends and acquaintances from the Lair. It was a very productive shopping spree! We can't wait to try our newfound toys out on our deserving bottoms...
I feel for the guy. No, really, I do. I have been there! Well, not in the ass with the ginger. Well, I mean, I've been in the ass... Wait. Okay. Back up. What I mean to say is: I've experienced this kind of penile pain before.
Allow me to elaborate...
Years and years ago, when I was in a punk rock band, I used to carry mace on a keychain in my pocket (alleys, 2 am, loading vans with band equipment, Hollywood, cash earnings--these things bring you to carry a weapon). One day, I was lying on the floor of a friends' bedroom playing Dungeons & Dragons (yeah, a punk rock nerd--imagine that!) and somehow the pressure caused the mace to release just a bit in my pocket. After about a half an hour on the floor, I started to feel a burning. I went into the bathroom and dropped my pants and saw an angry red weeping welt about the size of a football on my thigh.
"What the hell...?" I wondered. It took a few minutes for me to put two and two together. The pain was excruciating. I knew the mace was oil-based, so I got a wet washrag, put soap on it and scrubbed, bringing tears to my eyes. I cleaned it up enough to stop the burning, so I pulled my pants back on, careful to avoid the angry red welt, raised and puffy at least a half an inch off my leg.
About a half hour later I had to pee, so I went back the restroom and pulled out my willy. Unbeknownst to me, I still had some of that oil-based mace on my fingers. The resulting pain on the head of my manhood was so excruciating I fell to my knees, nearly hitting my chin on the toilet bowl, and almost passing out.
So yeah, I feel for the man...
Friday, November 13, 2009
"Did 'figging' ever involve figs at one time?" I asked my educated friend. "I don't think so," was her reply.
So why the hell not call it "gingering"?
I'll admit to this as well: all the machinations and details of the spanko world are not within my realm of expertise yet. I come from the BDSM world, where I'm still learning (like the whole saline-in-the-scrotum scene we witnessed a number of weeks back--eek!). But figging. Okay, I actually get it. Makes sense. Punishment, torture, pain. But I was surprised I'd never heard of it before or had anyone reference it in the past.
So...anyone want to admit to a good, solid figging? Care to share with this unilluminated top what it's all about, why you like it and how it can be screwed up? Anyone have any opinions to the contrary about doing it?
And can we all just agree to call it "gingering"?
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
We went back to our room and everyone hung out and chatted until it started to get dark. Getting antsy, Jada and I went off to her room for our long-planned scene together, lasting all of two hours. Cindy played with Martin. I came back to the room and Cindy proudly showed me something. At the dinner the night before the FMS gang handed out rulers with “BEHAVE” printed on them. What Cindy held in her hand was a broken ruler, snapped in two. “I’m so proud of you!” I said. “Now you can start your own collection, like Erica!”
Soon, we met up again and went to dinner at the local TGI Fridays. After, it was back to our room for more conversation. Before long, it was about 1 am and people started to head off to bed. Cindy went to play with John and I turned in.
Day 4: Monday, November 8, 2009
Another day of sleeping in. The same FMS laggers (John, Martin, Jada, Cindy and myself) all went to a late breakfast at the local IHOP, came back, packed up, said our goodbyes and left for the airport, another fun weekend with friends, spanking, laughs and conversation. Can’t wait for Atlantic City in April. Hope to see old friends there, make new ones and spank.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Michael and Diane held a nice reception to celebrate their wedding, complete with cake, hor’s deuvres, mimosas and, of course, spankings in the next room. It was a fun daytime play party—a nice rarity. I gave Diane her wedding gift, a pleasant spanking. She decided to get rough and wrestle away from me and before long the two of us were sweaty and fighting like tigers on the bed. Fun! Sass got a great spanking, as well as Jada and others.
Getting on into the afternoon, Jada and I decided to go to lunch while Cindy and Lizzie played. We came back just in time for the Grammar Test, a hilarious and “proper British” affair, complete with tons of bratting, lots of spankings, ruler slaps and much comedy. Paper airplanes were flying. Gum was being chewed. Diane got on her hands and knees and crawled away, hiding under a skirted catering table. I could only imagine the fun and mayhem that would occur if Erica were there…
The afternoon was quickly taken up with a scene with Stacey (of Strict Dave & Stacey), which was hard and intense. It was a great scene. She is so expressive! I went back to the room, changed clothes and went to the Fitness Center for an hour’s cardio. I got back and showered/changed to get ready for the evening’s festivities, trying my best for an “academic/collegiate” look, accomplished rather convincingly (I felt) with a striped college-style tie that also was in autumn colors.
Arrived at the dinner and Tony announced that, by tradition, “Headmasters and Faculty” would get their dinner first. I figured out quickly that meant tops, so I went in, found a table and got my food. (Actually, I felt kinda bad that the women were left out in the hallway. It didn’t seem altogether gentlemanly.)
The dinner was decent (stuffing-filled chicken breast and roast beef—yum!) and immediately following the games began. Started off with a musical chairs game with tops on the chair and bottoms walking around. Music was Strict Dave smacking a bottom in rhythm. When the smacking stopped, the women were to dive into a lap. Judges determined if there was a “lap tie” which bottom got there first. Fun and furious. The next game was “Newlyred Game.” It was made up of HL and Sass (who recently celebrated their 25th anniversary), Diane and Michael (true newlyweds) and Ian, Stella and Kay (just for shits and grins?). It was fun, but it was hard to hear Strict Dave.
The evening pretty much wrapped up immediately thereafter. Everyone went off to their rooms to change clothes out of their fancy duds and off to Strict Dave/Stacey and HL/Sass’s suite to play. Played with Aurora, who paid me a great compliment. She said, “Your hand may be stronger than Ian’s.” I glowed. Sarah and her husband showed up. This was their first party and she had communicated with me via MySpace thanks to a recommendation from Erica. They arrived in Dave’s suite and before long I had Sarah over my lap, kicking and wiggly.
Soon, it was time to go off to Jada and Lizzie’s room for a private play appointment with Lizzie. We had a great scene going on, pretty intense and loud with lots of crop slaps, hand smacks and more, when—muffled through the wall—we hear a man shout, “Would you shut the fuck up? We’re trying to sleep!” My. First of all, why the hell would the hotel put a vanilla next door to our group, anyway? Secondly, it was almost a scene kill. It was very much like a needle scratching across a record, experientially. I had to rethink the rest of our scene. Cut down on the loud implements. Switch to more sensation play, canes. But I turned the TV on nonetheless and put the volume up. There you go, jackass. No slapping sounds, but you’ll have to put up with swearing and gunfire from the Quintin Tarantino film!
Our scene ended eventually and I packed up my bag of toys and took them back to the room. Scurried up to Strict Dave’s and found a room packed to the ceiling with folks. HL and Sass always cater such a great suite party: great gourmet cheese, crackers, fine wine (a fantastic Spanish Rioja that’s one of my favorites!), cookies, nuts, candy. (Thanks guys for your wonderful hospitality!) I’m not claustrophobic but I don’t like stuffy, hot rooms, and the room was most certainly hot and stuffy. I went out into the hall for a bit, but decided I wanted a nightcap and borrowed Jada’s room key to go make us up a batch of Dark & Stormy’s, given my spanking night was over and was ready for a dollop of alcohol.
When I got back, Cindy was over Strict Dave’s bench getting a rather humongous flogging/srapping and between the time of night and the alcohol I was ready to turn in. I said my goodnights to everyone and turned in, my hand throbbing with three tiny blisters forming…
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Our journey began humorously enough at the airport where, upon presenting her ticket to board the plane, a woman was told she could not bring her roll-along onto the plane because it was too thick. The woman insisted she brought it on flights with her all the time. The airline employee pointed out the freestanding display with the metal bin to test luggage dimensions. Annoyed, the passenger said, “I’m telling you, it fits!” and proceeded, smugly to put her roll-along into the bin. But it wouldn’t go. She was making such a ruckus there were many eyes on her in the terminal. Cindy and I were behind her, awaiting to board, but unable to do so because of her tantrum as the airline employee patiently watched.
The woman actually stepped on the luggage with one leg and with all her weight, shoved it down into the metal frame. “See?” she said, smugly, “it fits!” She went to pull the bag out of the display and it wouldn’t budge. Everyone began snickering. She pried and pulled and tugged, but could not get the bag out. To move things along, another ticket taker came over and tried to assist her in getting the bag out by pushing this way and that on the bag to dislodge it from the frame, to no avail. At this point, other passengers awaiting to board were outright laughing! As Cindy and I wanted onto the tunnel to board the plane the last thing we saw was a maintenance worker taking apart the stand to release the luggage and overheard the flight attendant saying, “And that’s why you’re going to be checking that, ma’am.”
During the flight, I watched as a couple about ten years older than us in the same row consumed a to-go meal from TGI Fridays, a terrible breakfast sandwich on a giant croissant filled with eggs, bacon and sausage slathered in gravy with at least a pound of Tater Tots on the side. The two smacked and munched. It was rather disgusting. Not long after I look over and the husband is giving himself an insulin injection—right there in his seat! Go to the bathroom and do that, for Chrissakes! Made me woozy. Of course, if the man changed his eating habits, perhaps he wouldn’t be diabetic to begin with…
On landing in Dallas both Cindy’s and my phones were buzzing and vibrating with text messages and emails from folks on the ground in or on the way to Tampa. Little reports on the hotel, bratting, arrangements for play dates, etc.
We arrived in Tampa without incident and we were pleased our bags of implements weren’t violated by the TSA. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Comfort Inn. We carefully unpacked, completely disgorging the contents of clothes, computers and play implements. Cindy went immediately to shower as we were rapidly approaching the time of the first FMS social gathering. Cindy stripped down, jumped into the shower and discovered nothing but a trickle coming out. Thre would be no way she could shampoo her luscious mane. She could barely shower, having to cup her hands to fill them with water from the anemic showerhead and splash the water on her to get the soap off.
We complained, and were told we could move to another room—having completely unpacked. Frustrating. It would take 30 minutes to move all our stuff and we were late, so we decided to do it later.
The hotel meeting room was full of people. There were 50-60 folks there and Ian had a table of his best London Tanners goods. At 8:30 the social began, a game of scavenger hunt that required people to ask one another questions about when they were in school (valedictorian? Went to school stoned? Mooned someone on campus?). The first person to fill their sheet would win a prize. Five swats to the bottom for each spot filled on the sheet, so there was a cacophony of spankings happening all around the room.
Around 10 pm things started to wind down, and with two hours before the hospitality suite was to open. Cindy had a play date, so Jada, Lizzie and I went to the local IHOP and grabbed a late-night dinner, getting back to the hotel around 11:30. We got tired of waiting and decided to play, my first two-bottom scene. We discussed basic navigation of the scene and began, Jada bent over one bed and Lizzie the other with yours truly going back and forth between the two, going from implement to implement, girl to girl. It was a very unique scene because I requested a lot of feedback about a few things. Both are so communicative and open with me I was able to ask them about how a two girl scene would work logistically. Further, I had just purchased some new gloves (to replace the ones worn out on Erica's bottom!) and wanted feedback on how they felt. We finished after 1 am and all three of us were spent, each girl nuzzled in on their beds as I was feeling a bit top-spacey myself.
Jada’s favorite drink is a Dark & Stormy, as is mine. So she brought all the makin’s (dark rum, ginger beer, lime) and we broke open the rum and enjoyed a toast. Cindy wrapped up around 2 am and joined in the girls’ room and we chatted until 3 before heading off to bed.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Arriving in the evening, we'll go to the hotel, freshen up and head off to the first event--vendor fair and scavenger hunt, a great ice breaker. Before long, certainly someone will be over my lap getting what-for. My dance card is filling quickly. I'm playing with four of my favorite girls, some of the banter/communication/conversation/"negotiation" having gone on for more than a month now. One of my "favorites" I've only played with briefly in a private party, but I'm eager to get more intense with her. I'm certain my assumption will prove out to be correct.
This should be fun. Smaller group than the FMS Beach Party, but between the organized events and the private play and parties, it's going to be 60 hours of nonstop fun. I'm ready for my hand to be red, throbbing and sore--which is a good thing!
I'll keep notes and post a full report upon my return next week. In the mean time, happy smackin'!