July 8, 2011
"Can you lift my hip a little?"
I am seated on a bench next to the ponytail, close to the floating woman's head. I have the best seat in the room. To the right of the couple, behind the ironwork and a pillar, a woman and a man are playing, the man naked, the woman in a pvc hotpant-suit. The little suit is not what you'd expect a domme to wear, but then, she may not be a domme, but rather just a woman whipping a man. In her pvc, she definitely is sexy. I can't properly see them, but fortunately there's a mirror behind them. From my bench, I can watch the floating woman and the pvc domme almost in one view. As I said, I have a premium spot, sitting on my little bench.
I don't know how much time the slender man has spent creating his framed web, it must have been half an hour at least. The woman doesn't laugh any more, she looks more and more uncomfortable, understandably, considering she's been floating there, supported by ropes, for half an hour. It seems so sad, that when the man finally finishes his work of art, he needs to take it apart again. Fortunately, Erik, one of the photographers, walks by. He takes pictures from various angles, some wide angle. From his evil smile, I can see he's happy with the results. An hour before, he has taken some pictures of Bee and me. I always like the way he smiles after he's taken your picture. Last month, he emailed me the pictures he had taken of me. Some of the pictures he takes are put up on Mrs Manita's web site - she is the party organizer - but by default they make your face unrecognizable. When he took my picture, I told him I don't mind to be in a picture on the web site.
At the same time, the pvc hotpants have finished whipping the naked man. She's hugging him, stroking him, gives him a kiss on his cheek. Their friends are watching, from a couch on the side, they smile. While they were playing, another couple has come in, now they are also on the couch. The woman is wearing a red corset, she's on a leash, held by her master, who is dressed in simple leather, or maybe he wore a black coton shirt even. The master apparently talked to the pvc hotpants, who makes a gesture, the red corsetted lady walks up the the play station. The naked man now is on the couch, being cuddled by two women. The pvc lady chats with the red corsetted lady, then the latter kneels, and undoes her corset. Too bad they are behind a pillar, and just out of my view in the mirror.
It's time to me for move on, though I like to sit in this particular spot. I get inspired - both for my play and for my stories - watching people play, it's effective use of my time to see two or three couples play at the same time, and people walk by between me and the play stations, so I get to talk to my friends, and to strangers.
At the bar, Bee has found R. and his three girlfriends. Later tonight, we will discuss in some detail how R. always manages to arrive at play parties in such charming and lovely company. R. says he wants to play with one of the ladies, but he didn't bring any gear. He doesn't often play in public, or rather, he didn't used to, I have seen him play in public a few times in the last couple of months. He talks to a friend, who agrees to lend him some of his toys. I offer R. my heavy flogger, which he gratefully accepts. While the little company sets off to the dungeon, I go fetch my flogger. I like my flogger, it was made by John of Anon Leather, it's really heavy, made of buffalo skin, the strands are red, the handled is checkerd red and black. This is the same John who taught me how to make canes the way I do.
When I get to the play space, carrying my flogger, R. is whipping the young lady. She has a nice body, she keeps her glasses on during play. But what strikes me is that she doesn't squirm, she doesn't scream, doesn't make a sound. I whisper to Bee that if I were whipping that young lady, I'd whip her harder and harder until she squirms, screams, safewords, or all of the above, or I'd whip her in half. Her ass has nice red stripes, then it gets black and blue. R. uses a whip, a cane and a flogger alternatively. When he sees me enter the room, he walks over to me, I hand him the flogger. But even the flogger doesn't make the girl move, other than by the sheer weight of the strands. Someone whispers that this type of play is not very exciting to watch, and mustn't it be boring to the man holding the flogger? I agree. I should talk to R. about this, I want to know what he felt and what he thought during the session.
They keep going for quite a while, quite unexpectedly, for me that is, because R. is more into dominance and he usually doesn't put a lot of labor in the flogging and whipping. After all, the master shouldn't be the one who gets al tired and sweaty, should they? Right now, he's sweating like a horse, putting all his force in the cane and the flogger, alternatively. Then, more or less suddenly, they stop. It appears that the little lady has signed R. that she has had enough, they hug, someone goes for more towels, she gets wrapped in towels, R. uses one to dry his body and his head. A lady friend joins them, they spend some time cuddling and hugging, chatting, before they clear the space. R. thanks me for the use of my flogger. I mustn't forget to properly clean it. First clean it, then grease it, strand by strand. But, like the slender man counting his ropes, I actually don't mind spending an hour cleaning and greasing my flogger.
Back upstairs at the bar I see Nina. I adore the way she looks. We usually talk briefly when we meet, I sent her a message on Fetlife, but she couldn't figure out what fetlife handle goes with what party face, so now I chat with here, tell her who I am on Fetlife, and shall we connect on Fetlife?
As usual, I have missed the show that they put up on the dance floor. I find shows boring, at least the type of shows they have at parties, I think they are too conservative in their choice of play, I don't find them exciting. I do get to talk to one of the participants later, someone I have met a few monhts before at the same venue, he's wearing an elecrtified collar because he played dog in the show. The collar is of the type that you can buy in a pet store, it's wireless, if the dog does something wrong, you press a button, the dog gets a jolt, and hopefully the dog will learn. This particular collar may well have been made for S&M purposes, I don't know. I tell the human dog that I'll suggest to his mistress a type of device that my ex girlfriend had for her dogs: an anti bark collar. It's a little box on a collar, when the dog barks, it gets a jolt. It doesn't work, not that I have seen, it just makes scared and shy dogs.
In my car, on our way home, Bee and I chat about the party and about the people we met. That's actually a reason for me to car pool with Bee, it's so much nicer to have someone for the after chat. We talk about the play we saw, about R. and his friends - only nice things! - and about Fetlife. Bee tells me that I should definitely come to the next BDSM fancy fair, in September, to sell some of my canes. I was planning to go last time, but I ended up not going, Bee says it's really cool, so we'll go together.
It's about three thirty when I get home. When I open the front door, one of the cats jumps out. Silly animal, I will go straight to bed and it won't get in until late in the morning, if not early afternoon. His brother is wiser, staying in - and getting food. When I'm in bed, I try to read a few pages in the latest Iain M. Banks novel, but three words is all I manage.