I had a feeling this would happen. I didn’t finish these posts before I left for Rope Camp, and now it is a struggle to dig through the recesses of my mind to find these memories. Luckily, I journaled and voice memo-ed about my time. I am nothing if not efficient. So now, Sunday Part 1.
Sunday morning was eventful for me. To start, I had a 10am fisting appointment with PrudeNate & CandleLover.
I think this is going to be our tradition for events. Two in a row, each time an early morning fisting with the three of us. Frankly, I wouldn’t mind this preset date.
We were time limited; they had another play date at 11am and I had a foot massage waiting for me at the Pamporium at the same time. My Fusion had me so busy rushing here, there, and everywhere that our early morning session was all I could fit in. Still, with the little time we had, I enjoyed myself immensely.
PrudeNate and CandleLover are married. Somehow they have this unspoken communication system; each pings off the other brilliantly. When one is harsh, the other is soft. They balanced each other and made the experience that more pleasurable.
Our time ended with my seventh orgasm, one more than we accomplished at our last event. I have a feeling the number will grow each time we are able to have our early morning play.
With our scene ended, they ran to their next while I strolled to the Paporium for my foot massage. I’d only had my feet worked on once before when a lover came over to my apartment for a play date. This massage, however, was leaps and bounds better than I could’ve ever imagined.
I thought I was going to spend the time chatting with Jacques, the lovely man who serviced me. No. Within ten seconds of his hands on me, I was gone. My head drifted back, my eyes were closed, and I was lost in the rolling endorphins rushing through me.
He started with the body of my foot, then worked each individual toe, and finally moved up to the calf. He warmed up my right foot, then the left, smoothing out the muscles and tendons. Next he incorporated lotion, pressing, easing it into my skin. His touch was firm and soft, eager and controlled.
My time with Jacques was one of my most intense experiences at camp. So much so, I couldn’t open my eyes once he was done. I literally had to sit, lids shut, for a few minutes; the world spun when I tried to defy my body’s urgings. Jacques fetched water and let me regain myself, informing me, “The Paporium is yours.”
I was finally able to open my eyes, but standing was still out of the question. Instead, I sat and breathed, waiting for the rush to subside.
When it finally did, I got up and happened to peaked over to my right. There I saw a rigger competition that featured Murphy Blue.
After ten minutes of watching the fun, including colored paper ribbon wrapped around all three bottoms and, I think, simulated cunnilingus, I happened to look over towards my cabin, a mere hundred feet away. There, I noticed RockStarIsis engaged in her camp sluttery, fucking someone with her strap-on in a camp chair. I made my way over.
To be perfectly honest, I did not approach because I was thinking, Oh, that scene is hot, or I should watch the show. All I wanted to know was if she was fucking in my chair. Confirming she wasn’t, I started chatting with my friends.
We all agreed it was time to fill out our camp awards ballots. Since we were a group, and all friends, we filled them out together, deciding who we wanted to vote for in each category. I, of course, piped in with my Teacher’s Pet write-in. Since everyone needed to cast their own ballot separately, we headed down the hill for lunch.
After lunch, I quickly started prepping for my next class, Gray’s Kinkbusters. I cleaned off the ribs he needed, showered, and changed into a loose fitting dress. I wanted easy access for when he would be spanking me. On my way out, I made sure to grab his last gift.
I was there early, as is my way, and sat front row center. Gray soon arrived with NaughtyEm accompanying him. His ankle was wrapped in pink athletic tape. “You have a boo boo.”
I greeted him with a smile and handed him the ribs I’d acquired. He was slightly shocked, having forgotten he’d asked me for them in the first place. And then, I gave him my last camp gift.
“So, you know gift now and gift later. This is gift last.” I pulled out an apple I’d snagged from breakfast the day before; it looked big and juicy. He smiled when he accepted it.
“Ah, teacher’s pet.” Does he know about my campaign? I wondered. No, it’s just an expression. Keep smiling, Poetic. Just keep smiling.
Class soon started. Gray passed out note cards for us to answer questions on; he planned to return to our statements at the end of the lessons.
His first exercise was called “Pin the Kidney on the Bottom.” This demonstration made a few important points:
1- Not everyone knows where the kidneys are located. (Partially under the last sets of ribs, below muscle and bone.)
2- Not everyone knows the size of kidneys. (About the size of a computer mouse or iPhone.)
3- Kidneys are more protected than you’d imagine. (Remember that muscle and bone thing.)
To drive home his last point, Gray sought the aid of Ten as a demo bottom and a few other choice items: a condom filled with ketchup, the ribs I brought him, precooked bacon, some mathematical information on the psi of flogging and caning, and his Whack-i-lizer. It was hilarious and very informative.
Next Gray talked about some common rope myths:
1- There is no such thing as a motherfucking shinju. (quite possibly the reason he created the class in the first place)
2- Bare feet have nothing to do with the skill level of a rigger.
3- Stop freaking out about circulation.
Finally, he moved on to spanking and skin color. Ten, NaughtyEm, myself, and a fourth, whose name escaped my mind, participated in this section. We had all volunteered our bottoms for science. Gray pointed out our range in skin color and pain tolerance.
It was quite amusing as he hit us, one after the other, over and over again with the same bat, counting off as he went. There was much giggling to be had among us and the class. Once Em finally called for him to stop, the class compared out asses, showing the difference in skin coloring was vast. Also, Gray asked for our level of pain tolerance for the play, which greatly differed. Lesson for this section: communication is how you figure out if you’re spanking someone correctly, not skin color.
To end his teachings, Gray went over his questions from the start of class once again and read our answers. Lessons learned:
1- If you are a sub and you want to approach a Dom to play, first come as yourself.
2- If you are a Dom and you want to play with a sub, make sure you ask everyone involved if this is okay. (spouse, partner, Mommy/Daddy, Master, etc.; and there may be many)
3- Sexual contact is defined by the person, not by you; be specific.
When answering the sexual contact inquiry, my response was, “Anywhere on my body.”
Gray retorted, “What if I’m talking to you sensuously?”
I, deciding to be snarky, argued the sound waves from his voice vibrated my ear drum, therefore he was touching me. Gray fired back, in the cutest way possible, telling me to shut up. I knew he was being playful, but my subby side got a little worried, thinking I may have upset him.
Later, when chatting after class, I apologized to Gray, saying I was sorry if I had crossed a line. He, in turn, reassured me I had not. “No, no no. You’re weren’t being snippy. I just like picking on you.” This made me smile.
Before I left, CeasarLives approached Gray, asking for his assistance with our scene later that night. CeasarLives and his friend Nick were going to use me like a human punching bag and needed someone to suspend me. Gray agreed to help and said he would meet us in the Dungeon after Midnight Snack.
Before I flitted away for my next activity, I was able to have a conversation with Skywolf and Ten. Ten is a part of the spanking scene and expressed how perturbed she was at their lack of sexuality. For them, the spanking is the sex. So much so, when Ten walked around a party with a sparkly butt plug, they all thought she was drunk. I found this to be a shame, especially since I knew how beautiful her ass was and the idea of jewelry enhancing this wonderfulness not being appreciated seemed like such a waste.
When I left Kinkbusters, I made my way up the hill towards my cabin. Deep_End and I had set a time for us to talk for an hour in replacement of my rape scene. As I got closer to the cabin, I saw a group of people spread out across the field wielding and cracking whips. Deep_End was among them. I also saw SkinnyBitch, FlapJackSlim, and RockStarIsis sitting nearby. I joined them to watch the impromptu whip class.
Once finished, Deep_End and I slowly strolled away for our hour. We drifted back down the hill, past the Pavilion, to the lake. We traversed the uneven terrain slowly because of Deep_End’s injured foot.
As we chatted, our laughter had already begun. He joked about my wanting to carve out an hour of his time to talk being a little ridiculous considering we were set to be roommates after Fusion. I kept explaining I wanted my time, so, dammit, suck it up and talk to me.
We found a bench by the extinguished camp fire and sat.
He asked me about my experience at Fusion, how it was going. My talking points circled back to my time with Gray: the Cigar Social, our play date, classes.
And though there were many lovely parts to my vacation, I found myself harping on my triggered incident. I talked about how much it hurt that, though I had all this positive feedback from him, all the flirting and time and attention, none of it mattered in that moment. No amount of intense sexual energy we exchanged was going to stop my mind from going to that dark place. The little things didn’t matter. And, to be frank, that shit sucked.
Deep_End and I are quite similar. He kept nodding in agreement, talking about how he had similar feelings in his relationships. How, no matter what amount of good one has developed with folks, when you’re triggered it all washes away. Insecurity is a powerful motherfucker. In my case, a lifetime of doubts was no match for a few hours of reassurance.
Our conversation then turned to our soon-to-be living situation. He was worried for me, living alongside an established three person relationship, and gave me an easy out. If things became too much for me, he reassured me they would find someone else to take my rooms, do anything to help me leave if I needed it.
I explained to him my two rooms (I have the two smallest bedrooms) were my own little world. If things got bad enough, I would simply close my door and shut them out. I’d lived with the Ex for two months after the breakup; I could live threw just about anything.
As we talked and laughed, I spoke about how I was happy I’d canceled the rape. Though I wanted the experience, and still do, both Deep_End and I were not in the right head space. The hour I spent with him was enough, more than enough. My fantasy could wait for another day.
As it neared the end of our hour, Molly_Ren came walking down towards us. At first I was a little upset; this was suppose to be my time with Deep_End. But, when I saw the look on her face, all that angst washed away. I could tell something was wrong.
Molly had to cancel her own scene, a cathartic beating with, I believe, Wintersong. She was not able to secure someone to do aftercare, and Wintersong, being the person pulling the energy out of her, could not comfort her without pushing the energy right back in. Seeing the look on her face made me want to cry. Instead, though, I took action.
Deep_End had gotten up to hug her. Their embrace ended, I ordered Molly to sit in front of me and Deep_End behind me. I laid my head and chest on her back and ordered Deep_End to do the same with me. We sat there, body against body against body, giving and receiving energy from one another. We laughed, we smiled, we felt better. We were there for each other.
But my time with Deep_End was up and he had other people to attend to. All three of us walked back up the hill. As we did, I looked over and saw Molly was holding Deep_End’s hand. I thought, That’s a good idea, and slipped my hand into his other. Walking, hand-in-hand together, I felt comforted, safe, home.
[Side Note: While sitting with Deep_End, I had a realization. I had dreamt the place where we sat and chatted.
I occasionally have prophetic dreams about moments in my life. I can’t control them (though I’d love to learn how), and they seem to be random.
In my dream, I’d seen the bench we didn’t sit on, splintered with a paint can for a support. I saw the lake, looking past its edge for someone who wasn’t there. I saw the camp fire with ants crawling over the stones. I heard sounds of a scene behind me as I was trying to have a conversation with someone; I didn’t know who. And I’d seen the overgrowth of grass and trees behind Deep_End that I stared at, off and on, during our discussion.
So I guess that means I was going to have that conversation with Deep_End all along; my dream had told me as much.]
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