the life and musings of a kinky slut

A While

Going into tonight’s Dirty Things party, I had three aims. 1- There would need to be much cigar play. 2- I wanted to spend some time with N3rddom and KnownUnknown, who would be traveling from far away to attend the party. And 3- I absolutely wanted to kiss VoodooPrincess again. Thankfully, all three of my aims were met, and more.

Almost as soon as I checked in, I was down in the smoking lounge. VoodooPrincess and I both served as cigar sluts again, with Lochai adding his ingenious ideas for fun into the mix. There was much preparation of cigars, and eating of ash. VoodooPrincess, however, got the gold star for the evening with her inspired idea for an ash s’more. One of my highlights from my smokey fun time included a lump of ash atop a half eaten strawberry. My mouth was full of all new tastes and sensations.

I indeed had the wonderful thrill of kissing VoodooPrincess for quite some time. Once involved passing ash from her tongue to mine. Our first embrace was merely her proper greeting to me. I felt more than welcome in her presence.

Close to the apex of the cigar smoking, Celeste and Veskrashen arrived. Celeste found herself drawn to my hair, noting how soft it was. She then proceeded to run her fingers through my curls, then down my back and across my skin. I ceased contributing to any conversation and could no longer give service. My world existed only in the inches of skin her fingers caressed or scratched, the curls she twirled, and my breath.

As Celeste’s manipulations came to an end, N3rddom and his crew arrived. I greeted him, asking if he wished to smoke the half of a cigar I saved him from our New Years play. He politely declined, taking a seat next to SirRonC to chat.

As people filtered in and out, I made my way back upstairs. I strolled about for a while, naked, until the cold got to me. Scurrying back downstairs, I restored some of my clothing, to the disappointment of some, including myself.

Back in the main play space, I approached Veskrashen and gave him a proper hug hello. Before I was too distracted for a cordial greeting. In a moment of “why not”, I asked if he was interested in some sharp-and-pointy time. He said he was, but would need some time before we could play. I politely agreed and asked that he come find me when he was ready.

It was not long before we crept upstairs, found a table, and my naked body was once again under his blades.

“It’s been a while since we last played.” – V

“Tickle!” – me
“Really?” – V
“Shit! Shit shit shit shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. Why did I open my mouth? You didn’t hear that.” – me

“You have this lovely bruise. I must poke it. It is in the Domly code.” – V

“You growled again.” – me
“You know, I use my blades, but it’s always the growling women note.” – V
“It’s just something about it that brings the scene to a new level. It’s layering the levels of kink.” – me

“Your knives are beautiful, both in their decoration and their great ability to inflict pain.” – me

His knives once again danced across my skin. We began with my body face down. He mixed light wispy strokes with hard languid movements and occasional pointed jabs of pain. He found my tickle spot, the mix of squirming from torture and almost giggling was incredible.

He used his blades against my shoulders to make me turn over. He started with my face. Next, my neck. He went after my thighs, my stomach. He lashed at my Mons, eliciting my highest pitched shrieks. The tip of one of his blades rested an inch above my clit. I moaned as I bucked my hips up into the air, wanting his blade tip just a little farther down.

His knives found my breasts and nipples. My moans increased. I breathed my arousal into my abdomen. I loved the feel of his knives squeezing and scraping my flesh.

He ended with a flourish, pushing his knives into my neck, crossing them on my skin, and growling his loudest of the scene into my ear.

As before, he placed his hand on my chest and helped me to slow my breathing. We waited until I was less swimmy headed. I did not need to immediately lie back down when I sat up, and I was able to walk around just fine a few minutes after that.

But, before we parted, Veskrashen gave me a taste of his beating stick. It was yet another implement that gave not a thuddy or stingy but burny feeling on my ass, my arms, my thighs. I made sure that stick stayed very far away from me after we finished our time together.

My night ended with a tie. Murphy had been rigging none stop for some time, but his last bottom was nowhere to be found. He still had time to tie and wanted to tie. I volunteered myself.

He put me in a chest harness and secured me to his Shibari ring. He stood in front of me, placed his head against mine, and for a moment we shared breath.

Punch “Ten.” His right fist found my chest. Punch “Nine.” This time, it was his left. He hit me again and again. By seven, the pain became acute. By five, I wondered if I’d be able to take it all. At two, I screamed and leaned into him. He told me I had done well, had been just right. With one, both of his fists hit my chest. I was happy the harness was there to hold me up.

Murphy hugged me, thanking me. I leaned into him and, for a moment, allowed myself to cry a little. He asked me why I shed tears. I explained I had held back my disappointment all night. However, when he manifested my emotional pain into a physical form, I then had to let go of the droplets.

I thought I was going to see Gray tonight. I thought he was going to give a cigar play class and I was going to be his demo bottom. Turns out that’s not for another two weeks. I learned this at the beginning of my night. As soon as I felt the pain coming, I shut down those thoughts and attempted to concentrate only on what was right in front of me.

During the night, when I came down to put on some clothing, Lochai asked me if I was leaving. Of course he made his inquiry after I’d popped a chocolate covered pretzel into my mouth. I pointed to my situation, while chewing as best I could before speaking. He commented on how I was “always so fucking polite” as he waited for my answer. I assured him I was not leaving just yet, but merely trying to brace myself against the cold.

It took his inquiry for me to answer that question. I had thought about leaving the party. I knew I could go, since my passengers would not be returning with me. I knew I could just slip away. And part of me wanted to do just that.

But another part knew I should stay, knew that by opening up myself to what could possibly happen during the rest of my night I was self-soothing. And I did feel much better when I left than when I realized how our wires had gotten crossed.

It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Gray. Our lives are busy. We live on opposite coasts. There is more than enough to explain why I was really looking forward to our planned interactions. And there was more than enough reason for me to slip into the bathroom, or hide in my car, and cry. But I didn’t.

Instead, I sought out kinky fun from those around me. I enjoyed my time, enjoyed the party. And with a helpful reminder from Murphy, I acknowledged that though I was mistaken about the date of the class, I still had a promise to demo bottom for Gray.

So, yeah. Even with the confusion and resulting hurt, I found a way to make myself have a good night.

[pats self on back]

Categorised as: Cigars | Dirty Things | Emotional | Friends | Knife Play | Rope

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