I went to our local monthly play party with Ad last night. We haven’t been to a play party alone in quite awhile. Generally I prefer to do lifetsyle stuff with both guys or with W. It’s a small thing, and probably significant only to me, but because W is such an integral part of that piece of me, because he is always so front and center in terms of BDSM for me, I always feel a little odd going to a lifestyle event or get-together without him. I feel a little…lost in the midst of other lifestylers without him at my side, without the invisible leash I feel connecting us.
But Ad and I know all of the same people, and many of them longer W has, or than they have known me as “W’s”. Still, I am connected to W in the community’s mind firmly enough that when we got there everyone asked after him, and those that don’t know much about our triangle seemed surprised to see me there with Ad and not W. It was kind of…interesting.
Being there with Ad alone was a different experience than either being with W alone or with the two of them. With the two of them I feel…special…different. A woman with two exciting, dynamic, clearly dominant men. I bounce between the two of them (sometimes literally when they play with me), laughing and flirting and teasing, and I see the looks, see people watching us. And yes, I thrive on it, I love it, exhibitionist slut that I am. They interact with each other and our friends interact with the two of them, sometimes to the exclusion of me, as I stand on the sidelines, watching, listening, enjoying watching them and seeing them be the center of attention.
Being at an event with W alone, well…our dynamic is completely different. Sharper, more in-focus. We laugh and talk and tease, but there’s no doubt exactly what the dynamic is. It is very front and center. And I am always just a bit on edge, because I never know exactly what he might do, whereas with Ad, though he might play with me, if he does it is a) at my request and sometimes insistence, and b) I know it will be something playful and light, even if he gives me a good whacking like he did last night. I can always say “no,” and I am the one in control of it, even when I am tied up, by virtue of my reactions. He’ll only take me so far, and if I yelp or cry out too much, he’ll stop right away. Which is good and bad. Bad because I cry out involuntarily sometimes, but don’t actually want it to stop, I really want it to go on just that bit more to push me, to drive me deeper. And I can’t really go to that deep place in my head if I don’t either give up control, or have it taken from me. On the other hand, I don’t always need to go there, and having the ability to stop things when they are in that “good pain” realm, and simply make it an enjoyable event, is nice too. But I am going to have to learn to swallow the pain sometimes, if I don’t want him to stop. 😉
I had thought I might not want to go at all, without W there. I go to these things to play first, socialize second, and I have been disappointed before–I don’t fault Ad, because public play is not his first reason for being there, and not something that he craves like I do. If he does it, it is for me, and I know that, and respect that sometimes, he just isn’t up to it. But by Thursday night, I knew I was going to want to go…if only for the socializing, for being around kinky people, even if I didn’t get to get my own kink on. I realized how much of my kink-cravings, and how often, I get met with W, and that is one thing that has made me miserable with him being gone. Not only am I bereft of his company, but I am cut off from that part of myself as well. And, if I am truthful with myself, I know the fact that W is back East, no doubt playing with his other partner and possibly others, and having a great time, meant that I could not stay home and play WoW or watch TV with Ad. I needed to be out and about, to have my own fun too.
So I told Ad I wanted to go, and that I wanted to play, but that I was okay if we didn’t play, as long as we went. And I really was prepared not to play, I had been having fun with Ad throughout the early part of the evening, and I knew I’d just enjoy being out with him, prancing around in my too-short dress and too-high heels, kissing on him and being his slutty girlfriend–whether he wanted to beat my ass or not.
And guess what? He did want to beat my ass! And my thighs, and my calves, and even my arms and back.
And OH MY GOD we had fun. It was yummmmmmm.
This is how I started out the evening:
And this is is how I ended up:
Er, well, that’s not me exactly. That was my after-play treat. 😉 And…there was a whole lot in between, that caused this:
(Oh how I wish the marks would come out more clearly in the picture. They really were quite lovely.)
Anyway, yes, we played. He started out on the side of the room, with a bit of rope tying my hands behind my back and me against the wall, just warming me up. And by warming me up, I mean he used that fucking nasty thick plastic car antenna on me that he’s been enamored with lately. I did have to tell him about the intensity of it afterwards, because he didn’t realize quite how vicious it is. Followed, very quickly, with, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to use it! Please, please don’t stop using it!” Because, as I have noted, if he thinks I am in “too much” pain, he’ll stop. That’s why I have been very careful about saying anything about this particular implement, because although I hate it, I also love it, and I don’t want to inhibit him in any way, especially when he is actually enjoying inflicting pain on me. But…I also wanted him to be aware of the intensity and kind of pain it was, so that he knows what affect he is having. Now that he knows what it does, I can feel assured that he is aware of what he is doing and if he still chooses to use it the same way he uses the light, whippy cane, he is well aware of how much more it hurts. And I am okay with that. lol
It was interesting having rope on me that was being used to hold me, but not as part of the pain or stress part of the scene. W uses rope to control, immobilize or subjugate, or as an implement of torture: the bondage itself is a large element of the scene, even, at times, the entire scene, adding stress and misery to it, so much so that sometimes the bondage is the entire scene, and I am toast before we ever get to anything else. Which isn’t a bad thing–put some rope on me and I am gone into my happy place, and dealing with intense bondage can be as fulfilling as dealing with a heavy pain or impact scene, but…it was nice, experiencing something different. Being able to enjoy the play part of the scene without struggling to deal with intense bondage as well. There’s something to be said for simply enjoying a good impact/spanking/hair pulling/body-grabbing scene without wondering if I’ll be able to balance for one more minute on my knees, or to be able to move a little freely, to dance with the impact and move through the pain. In fact I am convinced I can deal with more pain, and actually enjoy it more, when I am able to stamp my feet, move from side to side, or have some other movement. Ad says he enjoys watching (and making) me dance, too.
Having just that bit of freedom puts me in a completely different headspace as well: it is not simply gritting my teeth and suffering through it, but allowing the pain to move me, to move through me, and to move with it. And there’s another element. At times the bondage (and the picture-taking) actually distances W from me during a scene. I know this is oftentimes deliberate on his part, a kind of dispassionate removal and objectification that he enjoys, and in those times it works on a whole different level. But without those elements, Ad and I connected and played together in a way that the bondage does not always allow W and I to do. He touched me frequently, ran his hands over me, grasped a handful of hair and held my head back just enough to get my attention without truly causing me distress, laughed with me and used his physical presence in a way that was wholly enchanting and very much made it feel like a mutual dance, the energy flowing between and through us.
The long, slowly-building/receding/and building-again hand spanking didn’t hurt either. A well-executed hand spanking is incredibly intimate, I don’t care how many people are there in the room with you.
His pacing was spot-on as well. After the warm-up scene by the wall, we had to wait awhile before a space opened up to play in. Finally, when neither of the two pieces he had originally intended to put me up on (standing, with my back to the audience) opened up, he put me over a tall spanking bench–facing the crowd. An unusual choice, I was thinking, but he was going to use the long, thick reins he’d used on me in the pony scene, and didn’t want to whip anyone behind him accidentally. Strangely enough, having to face the crowd while he brought me up and up and up, and then back down again, only to push me up and up again, over and over, was intoxicating. And apparently it was enjoyable for the audience as well, as I was told later by someone watching. “We get to see lots of asses getting beat,” they said, “but we don’t get to watch many submissive’s faces while it’s happening. It was very hot watching your expressions, from pleasure to pain to surprise to excitement, and even to being pissed a couple of times when it hurt more than you expected!”
It really was exactly what I needed. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the way W and I play, in what I am experiencing with him, that I forget about this wonderfully other dynamic I have with Ad. No, alone that wouldn’t be enough. I do need that complete abdication of control when I am with W. I need a man that owns me the way W does, that owns me and marks me and uses me and wants to, and knows how to, control and subjugate me the way W does. But having someone else that I can play with this way is just as necessary. And, I think that as they play with me together more and/or observe how the other plays with me, they are both learning ways to incorporate the other’s style a little bit into their own. Which is lovely too.
Last night I needed playful and loving. I needed loving hands on me even as they hurt me. I needed him to play with me for me. In joy and as an extension of his joy and love for me. And for awhile I existed only inside that bubble that he created around the two of us, with no other worries or anxieties or thoughts other than what he and I were doing together.
It really was a perfect evening.