Saturday, June 13, 2009

A post in which it is the Main Event

I have struggled to try to put this into some kind of narrative in my head without “editing” the impressions or making them less organic to the experience. It was very complex for me and I went to a LOT of places that kept shifting like a kaleidoscope.

I was nervous before the scene. I usually am. Big Red had told me to be downstairs at 11 when the dungeon opened, then changed it to 11:15. I ended up outside smoking, which of course then made me more nervous because I had smoker's breath. It is hard for me to lay down physical concerns (bad breath, gas, having to pee, etc – these stem from body insecurity issues. One of my favorite things about playing is that is one of the few times the inner body critic shuts down and I don’t hear that little voice in my head telling me I’m fat, etc.)

Finally lydia came outside, and told me that everyone was down, but that I could finish my cigarette.

I trusted Big Red to take care of me – we had great energy, and I knew that if she was a close friend of Mys Shay's it was all good; but part of what I knew was that she has reputation as a heavy player. That’s good and bad. Good because she can take me to places I haven’t been, but bad for the same reason. I have a good idea of what I have done, and am confident in that, but I am also concerned about not disappointing during a scene – it is hard for me to end a scene when I'm in over my head. I have fainted during scenes before, and when I did I can’t shake the feeling that I have failed. It is really hard for me to say “no more” of something – that is why I prefer to communicate non-verbally, with sounds and movement.

It ended up being Big Red, Mys Shay, dillan, and lydia doing the scene with me. They started off with a group hug that felt really similar to the energy the night before. They bumped around in between them all. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to feel threatening - I felt less “ganged up on” than surrounded by a group of playful people – kind of like a beach ball - a new toy they were going to enjoy. That felt good!

We were playing on a big aluminum i-beam frame that had a padded platform suspended from it by chains. I thought they would put me on the platform, but instead they braced me against one of the support bars. Initially, was a bit worried about being braced on a bar. I don’t like worrying about my feet during a scene (which is why I like the horse so much), but that turned out to be a non-issue.

Before the scene started, I was blindfolded. The blindfold was a concern, but ended up being a very very good thing. In the past, blindfold play has made me less able to control my flight (visual focus being one tool i use to “reel in”), and I have flown too high, lost control, and had to end the scene. But I have grown as a player since then. The blindfold in this instance I think definitely facilitated my gaining headspace so quickly. On the one hand, I really loved being in the center of the big room, where everyone could see. Part of me loves attention, but of course that isn’t what a scene is about. Because I couldn’t see anyone watching it kept that attention from distracting me, kept me more “true” to the scene, and definitely contributed to some of the headspace. As it turned out, I didn't have to worry about controlling my own flight, they did a really good job of just pulling me in and out of places at will, like a kite on a string in the hands of a master kite-flyer. No kite-eating trees in this sky!

Interestingly, the music that was being played faded out, and music in my head was louder. At this point I was hearing the song “Three Hits” by the Indigo Girls, as I had intermittently all day when I thought about the upcoming scene. That hasn’t happened to me before, although music is a huge thing for me in a scene.

Flogging, for me, is going home. Those deep thuds on my shoulder blades are reassuring in a way I can’t really explain, and have been since I first felt them on my back. A feeling of being relaxed and in my place comes over me. Flogging in this case was joy – a pure, almost childlike joy. I felt like a gull, racing over the waves – I could see sea spray glittering in the sun. As the thudding intensified, I became the bird. I flew straight up to the sun, as if trying to reach it. But then there was a sensation of flying too high. As the impact on my back increased (I believe from a paddle on my shoulders) I was pulled abruptly to a very dark place.

Diving, I found myself in a black space. I felt utterly alone in this place. The place itself was silent, but it was as if there was a ghost of the real world there. Part of my consciousness of course still knew that the crowd was there, and that of course the others in the scene were there, but everything seemed muffled – sounds, presences, even the pain to a point. I was abruptly overcome with grief – in my mind I was on my knees before a plain black box/altar. The only light in this place came from above, and was focused on this bare altar in front of me. I somehow knew that this was where I was supposed to lay some things down – things I’d been carrying as burdens. I felt intense, overwhelming grief that was nameless and unfocused. That was when I began to cry for the first time. i had been carrying grief for my grandparents who died (two in the last month) because there had been so much going on there had been no time for me to grieve. It is really hard for me to cry, no matter how badly I need to. But this felt larger, much larger, as if i was grieving all pain, all death, all loneliness, all tragedy. The tears felt cathartic and cleansing.

As the pain increased, I was abruptly wrenched from this place. Pain on my ass feels hot, salty, and makes me crave more – it’s coppery like blood and salty like potato chips, but tasted with the skin. It brings out a bestial side. The animal in me snarls or growls with pleasure. Pain on my back feels similar, but it is less visceral and more spiritual. Too much pain breaks that space and puts me in penitent space. I cried out in despair and desperation, asking for mercy. I went to that place several times.

Sometimes, the overload would put me back into the black place, and even after the intensity lessened, I would still feel the need to cry. At first I was worried that tears would change the energy of the scene, despite Mys Shay’s reassurances. She was abruptly pulling me in and out of that space by tapping my dick and making a funny voice, going “oops, it’s in the way” and stuff (she only touches my penis during a scene if it is in the way). When she did that, I couldn’t help but giggle. That was odd, up and down, in and out of that space so quickly. I’ve never vacillated so violently between two totally different places. What made it OK was when I felt her in my face, crooning as she drank in that tearful energy. That happened the fourth time i cried. When I could tell it was bringing pleasure, that made it OK to do it for real, and I let go. That was when the crying started for the final time.

That was about the time some horribly stingy thing was being used on my shoulders - it felt like a neoprene looped or braided flogger. I don’t know what it was, because of course I couldn’t see it, but it hurt like hell. Big Red checked in with me and asked could I take some more for her though, and of course there was no way I was going to say no. And I did take it. Willingly. I am used to “1 to grow on”, but not to “5 or 6 to grow on”! Just as I was beginning to think i couldn’t take any more, she stopped and switched toys.

I remember some deep thuds on my ass, but had no idea what they were. I was very surprised later to find out that I had been kicked. I kind of wish I had seen that – I like boots, and that could have been hot to me.

Then I got a real scare, for moment. I remember Mys Shay telling me it was OK if I needed to end the scene if I needed to. Then she asked “OK, are you ready?” At first I thought she was asking me if i was OK for the scene to start! I had a panicked moment thinking “OH FUCK – all this was just the warm-up??” Then of course I realized what she meant.

Eventually, I was so high on endorphins I was swaying around when I wasn't being worked. They moved to bend me over the platform. I was totally flying. It seemed distracting and unnecessary to move, but of course they were right. I think they were afraid I was going to fall over. When I bent over and some more ass work started, I remember feeling like they were just tearing me up, but I guess i was still tender from the night before, because I didn’t have any marks on my behind the next day. Big Red did a lot of hand work on me, which I like. I love to spanked with hands. She got up behind me and dry-humped me, which a lot of Dommes seem to like.

She decided to get up on top of me on the platform, which was the only part of things that really went wrong. It was just too much. I felt as if my ribs were being crushed. I couldn’t get my breath, and my voice was so hoarse by this time that they couldn't hear me. I felt like I was smothering. Even for a short time after Big Red moved, my ribs hurt. That abruptly pulled me out of headspace. By that time the scene was pretty much over though.

Big Red didn't do extensive aftercare, but she did ask me what I needed, which was nice. I used to like a lot of aftercare, but now i find that sometimes it interferes with my endorphin flight. Generally i would rather sit and talk (and smoke) than hug, cuddle, etc for an extended period of time. After a scene I always have a “just been to church” feeling, but I felt more cleansed than usual. I felt as if I had been scrubbed clean.

It was a very good scene, and by far the most intense one I have ever experienced. After sitting for moment and having some water, I went outside to smoke with Mys Shay. We had started about 11:30. It was now almost 2am, and the dungeon was closing. I was shocked that I had been gone that long. But really, really happy about it too.

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