Category: D3

  • Late Arrivals

    I showed up late to Gray’s Leather History class the Friday afternoon of Fusion. Unfortunately his presentation was at the same time as the Kinky Life Drawing Ion. I spoke with the person running the mini event. They were not sure if the people participating would like to stay after the allotted time. Hence no sexy drawings to share this year.

    As I listened to Gray’s presentation, another late arrival snuck into the back and sat right behind me. Rough leaned towards my chair and asked me what was going on. He had shown up during the question and answer portion. Most of the class was listening to Gray and IPCookieMonster talk about switching and Cookie’s thoughts on different types of switching (being dominant to one person and submissive to another versus actively changing or battling for dominance mid-scene). Rough didn’t stay long to watch the intellectual skirmish.

    Once the class had wrapped up, I gave Gray the less-than-happy news about the Ion. He figured as much, and was on his way.

    As he departed, I looked to my left and smiled. My friend Doug had arrived. He was walking around, trying to get a feel for this year’s camp. I called out to him and he joined me in the Pavilion.

    We hugged and kissed, happy to see each other again. He looked tired from his drive. Still, he held me tight all the same.

    As with each time we saw each other, our first greeting lasted long. Hands wondered. Our lips met, separated, and met again multiple times. We talked a bit about our lives since last we saw each other. We are always happy to see one another again. Neither of us wanted to let the other go.

    I gave Doug an invitation to my gang bang. He said he would show up, though he did not know how he felt about such affairs. As with everyone I gave an invitation to, I told him whatever felt right to him was fine by me. His accepting my invitation, whether or not he participated, was all I wanted.

    Even though I wanted our greeting to last longer, eventually we had to part. Doug hadn’t yet completed a full circling of camp, something he needed to feel grounded in the space. He also had not settled into his hotel room. I had to scurry up to the Sex-o-Rama class tent. Rough, before he left, asked me to redirect his face slapping class to the pool due to the day’s heat. I, ever the helpful friend, agreed to assist him.

    One last hug, one last kiss, and then Doug and I parted, knowing we would at least see each other again during our bootblacking shift, if not for more time to come.

     

  • Day Pass

    It felt like a rollercoaster going 70mph, and I am just now stepping off.

    The plan came together quickly and quite out of the blue. I was hanging out with EmberBliss, FireMonkey, and IPCookieMonster when the Open Space at TESFest was mentioned. It was occurring on Thursday July 3rd, the first day of the event, along with an Ignite series of kink presentations.

    I knew quite a few people who were going to TES, and it made me sad I would not see any of them. But then Cookie mentioned going up just for the happenings on Thursday. I realized this was a great idea. I had to work on Saturday, but I could manage Thursday only, with Friday to get back home.

    I pulled out my phone, got online, and registered immediately for the Thursday day pass.

    Then another thought popped into my mind. I wondered if Ignite had all its presenter slots full. I texted Gray, who was running both the Open Space and Ignite. Before I realized what I was getting myself into, I had volunteered to give a kink presentation with an accompanying slideshow in three days.

    I finished the slideshow and my flashcards the night before I left.

    The drive to New Jersey was not bad from my home, lasting just slightly over three hours. I made it to the event by 1pm, only an hour after registration was suppose to be open. However, due to unforeseen difficulties, both registration opening and the beginning of the Open Space were pushed back.

    Once everything did start, however, it felt like I barely had a moment to breathe.

    I ran two different sessions for Open Space, and participated, at least partially, in three others. I had amazing conversations, small moments, and saw some hot shit (pickup kidnapping scenes, who knew?). I felt fully engaged in collective knowledge sharing of passions just as it all had to end.

    During closing circle, I found myself de-roping from a self suspension. As I listened to everyone speak, I felt a sudden rush of sadness. We’d jumped into the deep end only to be pulled out much too fast for my liking, but such is life. Hopefully the Open Space will be back at TES next year.

    After the closing circle, there was diner food. After diner food, there was the deluge, remnants of hurricane Arthur that dumped a lot of water on us all as we made our way back to the hotel. After much scrambling, running around, a change of clothes, and prep, Ignite began.

    I was quite nervous before it was my turn to speak. I was the eighth person (out of ten) to present, I suspect because a certain someone is a sadist who likes to watch me squirm.

    Even so, I was not the only person with the jitters about public speaking. My friend FrozenMeursault was just as anxious as I was about the whole affair. His presentation on nerve injury and damage in bondage, however, was amazing. He timed his slides for reveals, blanks for when he just wanted to talk, and animation of the human body that had people in the audience actually awing. When he finished, to a rather large round of applause, I rushed to go give him a hug and tell him how great he did.

    Soon enough, it was my turn. I took the advice of my friends and stood in a power pose (think Wonder Woman) before I stepped up to the front. Funny enough, I think the mental trick worked. I spoke loudly and with lots of excitement.

    It helped that my topic was less technical and more emotional. I spoke about influences in my life that led me to cigar play and how, because I took a leap at one event, my life changed. When I finished, I felt great. FrozenMeursault came up and gave me a hug. The pressure was off. A rather large grin found its way onto my face.

    Post Ignite, it was time for play. Cookie had planned a Spin the Bottle party, which I did attend, but first it was time for stunt sex. As a follow-up to our sex at Fusion during my gang bang (which I will blog about more later), Cookie purchased two baseball bats to stick into my various holes. People watched us with interested, and bewildered, looks. The attention whore in me loved it.

    Before the Spin the Bottle party could start, we needed to find a place to land. We initially looked outside in the courtyard, but the gazebo, because of the rain, was less than ideal. The group decided to find a corner of the dungeon.

    “Hello Poetic.”

    On our way back inside, I stopped, turned, and saw Boymeat with his wife.

    “I thought you weren’t coming to this event.”

    “I’m only here for the day. I leave tomorrow.”

    “Oh darn, and I left my cattle prod in my room. Guess I’ll have to be extra mean to you at Summer Camp.”

    I blushed, began to leave, turned back, politely acknowledged Boymeat’s wife and my pleasure at meeting her, and then quickly scurried away.

    After Spin the Bottle, which was lighthearted and fun, I ventured back outside for cigars. Almost immediately, I shot straight towards a familiar and pleasing face.

    I tapped Doug on the shoulder. He turned, and we were in a hug within half a breath. For the next half hour, we chatted and hugged. And I nibbled on his neck. And he caressed his face into my shoulder. And we made a date for the next morning.

    I had found Doug at just the right time. After we set our morning meetup time, he faded quickly and headed home.

    I spent the next hour chatting with friends as we partook of tobacco, and then dragged myself to the nearby hotel room I shared with Cookie, FireMonkey, and Ember for the night.

    This morning I woke up late, got to Doug’s late, stayed too late because I didn’t want to say bye, and ended up heading home much later than I intended. Still, it was worth it.

    My event crash came hard and fast as I left my Fourth of July cookout with family. I spent two hours with them, a helpful distraction, but on my drive home all of my emotions came rushing back. The drop I felt as I sobbed into my arms, while still managing to drive, was immense.

    I slammed into and out of an event in 36 hours.

     

  • Drunk Blogging

    [FYI: I’m writing this while tipsy.  My apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors.  Yes, even when I’m tipsy, I worry about these things.]

    I was going to name this blog ‘Size Queen’ but since I’m tipsy, I wanted to keep up with the drunk blogging tradition.  I publish about one or two of these a year.  I wonder if anyone actually reads them.

    A few days ago, a friend of mine got three of their fingers in my ass.  Tonight, at a company holiday party, I bowled with my Ex.  He was on my team along with two other people.  He was the first person to ever fuck me in the ass.  My first ex tried, but he didn’t do it right and it hurt, so I stopped him.  My Ex did it right and fucked me in the ass and it was kind of awesome.

    I want someone else, well actually many someone elses, to fuck me in the ass.  I have this fantasy I might try to make happen at Fusion where many someone elses fuck me in the ass.  They’ll be wearing leather.  It’ll be totally hot.

    My friend who got their fingers in my ass thinks I’ll be able to get a fist in my ass eventually.  I learned two great terms from some of my friends.  ‘The Impossible Dream’ is getting fucked in the ass with a cock or strap-on cock while the cock/strap-on owner is also fisting your cunt.  ‘Bridge and Tunneling’ is getting fisted in both the cunt and ass.  I want both of these things to happen in my future.

    Lately, I’ve been quite ass focused.  It wasn’t til recently that I realized how much I love being fucked in the ass.  In my most recent masturbation sessions, I’ve started with putting my butt plug in, which only takes a few minutes now (pats self on back), and then riding my Hitachi.  I’ve cum harder with just my plug in my ass and my Hitachi on my clit than I ever thought possible.

    Did you know orgasms start from the sacral nerve?  Know where the sacral nerve is located?  Near your butt.

    I already have a Tardis cunt.  I love my Tardis cunt.  And people love fisting my Tardis cunt.  But could I develop a Tardis ass too?

    To be fair, one of my friends already has a Tardis ass.  His anal skills far surpass my current abilities.  I am quite envious of his ass.  But maybe, with practice, I could come close to his level.

    People who fuck me: Please go for the ass more.  I would be so appreciative.

    That is all.

  • A Visit

    If it is ok with you, I would like to crash with you Friday night.

     

    Originally I didn’t plan to go to Hot House.  It was scheduled for a Saturday evening, typically a night I work.  In fact, I had scheduled a ten hour shift for that very night.  But more than one friend said they were going.  And Doug was coming down from New Jersey.  And LyricL asked me, as a title holder, to attend the party.  Thus, under the influence of peer pressure, I dropped my shift and RSVP’ed yes to the event.

    So it was with more than a little glee that I received a message from Doug asking for a place to stay Friday night.

    He arrived at my house around 9pm.  We hugged at my front door, holding each other for a long moment, grateful for this random opportunity for a visit.

    I suggested we head out for dinner, my treat.  He objected, the memory of my Waffle House gesture still somewhat fresh.  Instead, he was the one who paid for dinner, sushi at a local hole-in-the-wall.

    As we walked back to my car, he pulled out his cloves and smoked.  From the vantage point of the parking garage, I showed him our downtown.  We spent about half an hour chatting, his tobacco scenting the air around us.

    When we arrived back at my home, the rest of the house was in bed.  We walked to my bedroom.  I stripped down to a comfy t-shirt.  He used the restroom, got ready.  When he climbed into my bed, I asked him if he minded if I slept naked; he didn’t.

    And then, randomly, he asked me where I was during 9/11.

    Okay, I thought.  Guess we’re not having sex.  That’s cool; it’s nice to see him either way.

    We chatted for a long time about a whole range of topics: politics, healthcare, religion (or lack there of).  All of it weighty, heavy stuff.  I adjusted this way and that on my bed, sometimes snuggling with a pillow, sometimes sitting up and animated.

    About an hour or more into our conversation, he finally noticed I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

    “I asked you if it was okay if I slept naked.”

    “Okay.”

    He stood up on his knees, took of his remaining clothing, leaned over, and kissed me.

    I pulled off my shirt.  We leaned back on my bed, onto my pillows, and made out with Tessie over my shoulder.

    He kissed me, teased me.  Sucked on my nipples.  Bit my neck.  I pushed him over.  Teased him with my lips.  Bit his neck hard.  Traced my tongue down to his nipples.  And then farther.

    He stopped me.  Explained he hadn’t been tested in a while.

    I introduced him to the second drawer of the storage container next to my bed.  Pulled out a condom.  Rolled it over his cock.  Wrapped my lips around his dick.

    The fun pivoted.  I pulled out an under pad, gloves, lube.  He went into his things; pulled out his butt plug.

    He laid back down on my bed, his hips on the pad.  I sat just off of the pad, lube bottle at the ready.  As I lubed my hand, I mentioned that I’d had a few lessons recently in anal play.

    I lubed up his hole, pressed my middle finger, and invited myself in.  My digit eased inside of him.  He removed his condom and began stroking his cock.  Later, I inserted a second finger.  He rode the wave of his pleasure.  I closed my eyes.  Felt myself inside him.  Relaxed into the fun of sticking my fingers up a cute boy’s butt.

    When he asked for the plug, he switched positions.  On his hands and knees, he pressed back onto the plug, then rested forward.  Back and forward.  I kept my pressure constant and in place.  Within a few minutes, his plug was in.

    “I’d love to suck your cock,” he said.
    “I’ve got another idea.”

    I pulled out my own plug.  Pulled out more gloves.  Got on all fours on my bed.

    He lubed up his hand.  Slipped his first finger in.  Then his second.  And, quicker than I anticipated, quicker than I knew I was capable of or would enjoy so greatly, my butt plug was in.

    I laid down on my back, the sensations a bit overwhelming.  He laid down beside me, more relaxed than my demeanor.  I tried to emulate his calm, but he had another idea.

    Changing gloves, he pulled out another bottle of lube, stroked my lips, and easily inserted his fist into my pussy.  I bit my wrist trying to quiet my screams.  It felt so good, so right, to be that full.  And yet, I started moaning.

    “More.  More.”
    “My full fist is in.  I can’t give you anymore.”
    “I know.  I know.  I’m a greedy pig is all.”

    I held my plug in my ass as he fist fucked me to an orgasm.

    I was high off my cum; he needed a cigarette.  We removed our plugs, cleaned up, and headed downstairs.

    As we sat, me drinking water and him smoking, he came to a realization.  Our hour plus conversation about religion and politics and healthcare had been a turn on for him.

    “Well, yes.  I get that.  I am also a sapiosexual.”
    “That’s what that means?”

    Shortly after, we went to bed.

    The next day we ate diner breakfast before he had to depart.  He was a part of the party setup.

    I was happy for my sixteen hours with my friend all the same, a most unexpected but highly appreciated quite enjoyable visit.

  • DGG #15 Fusion 2013 pt 4

    The pitter patter of rain fills the background as I chat more about my Fusion adventure (during a break in the middle of my Rope Camp).

    Time Jumps

    1:30 Boymeat
    5:29 Handfasting
    7:20 Rope with Bear (and a special appearance)
    10:03 Cigar Lesson
    11:14 Paying Dearly (canes with Gray & Rough)
    19:42 Warrior Kitten Memorial
    20:19 Poi Time
    22:00 My first bootblack shift
    23:38 Protocol Training with Shay & Stefanos
    24:35 Doug, the Dragon Girl, and our bootblack orgy

     

  • DGG #14 Fusion pt 3

    Playdate with the Pros, D3, Bastinato, and a few fun moments in between.

    Time Jumps

    1:35 Playdate with the Pros
    3:48 a beer odyssey
    4:43 Poetic, the tour guide
    7:20 Waffle House
    10:05 D3 and his hotel room
    14:08 Carol Queen and Robert
    [14:28-15:02 podcastus interuptus]
    15:43 Bastinato
    19:50 Jon’s boots
    20:37 DM Training
    23:34 Black Beard’s leathers
    24:07 teaser

     

  • Friday Night

     

    After my piss cherry was popped, my Friday night continued…

    ~

    We all gathered in a circle around our two friends as the handfasting was about to begin.

    I felt a bump in my right arm.  Looked to my side.  Saw Gray, dapper and handsome.  I slipped my arm into his.

    We stood side-by-side with many others witnessing a ceremony of love and devotion.  As our two friends joined their lives for a year and a day, my eyes watered.

    I wish them happiness and joy in their love.

    ~

    As our group dispersed, I walked over to D3.  My arm now wound into his grip as we leisurely strolled towards the Sex-o-Rama stage.

    There was about ten minutes before the burlesque show was to start when we arrived.  I saw the Dirty Pig judge milling about with the other performers.

    “May I make an introduction,” I asked him.  He said it was okay.

    I eased D3 over to the judge.  I could see the instant attraction between them.  My work was done.

    I stayed back, watched the first act of the show, then moved on to my next adventure for my evening.

    ~

    Bear laid on the same mat I had been on Wednesday night.  I worked under the same rig I’d been tied to that first evening.  Our scene had an altogether different tone, though.

    I wanted floor work; Bear just wanted to be in rope.  I bound their arms, legs, and moved their limbs this way and that.  I attached to the side eye bolts, turned their body about, and challenged their range of motion.

    All the while, I had a huge smile on my face because I could not stop talking about my time with Boymeat.  I raved about our initial encounter.  How he had read me so well.  How I had dropped to my knees to lick his boots.  Later dropped to my knees to suck his cock.  Had cum from his infliction of pain and the idea of him pissing on me.  I spoke about my cherry pop in the grass.  The grin on my face hurt from how big it was.

    But then, as I began untying Bear, there he was, slipping into the Dungeon from the side exit, the door right next to our rig.

    “My ears were burning,” said Boymeat.  Rightly so.

    He crept towards me as I loosed Bear’s ropes.  Gently tapped his cane against my leg.  Bear smiled.  I saw one or two people out of the corner of my eye observing my predicament.  My gregarious nature turned shy.  How much had Boymeat heard?

    I eased Boymeat out of the moment.  I still had rope to lay on Bear’s body, a different tie, a meditation my friend wanted.  Boymeat read me and slipped away.

    I tied Bear in an Ebi.  Took them to the place they wanted.  Then released Bear’s body, hugged them in gratitude for the experience, and we parted ways.

    ~

    I dropped off my rope kit, grabbed my cigar accoutrement, as well as my netbook, and headed down to the Pavilion.  I was late.

    When I arrived, she was still there.  I apologized profusely; explained my scene ran long.

    We sat on a bondage table.  I opened up my computer and started talking.

    We heard the crowd before we saw it.  A fire breather announced their arrival.  The mass followed his flame down towards Primal Arts.  She looked on.

    And then we heard the boom.  The fireworks burst in the air.  I could see the look on her face.  Could see the need in her eyes.

    “It’s okay,” I said.  “Go.”

    She ran towards Primal.  I packed up my things and went about my evening.

  • Off Campus

    I took maybe five steps into the Dining Hall and waited for maybe one minute before I turned around and left. Midnight Snack was packed, a line snaking around the room and out the far door. There was no way I was going to get any food in the twenty-five minutes I had before my playdate with D3.

    Instead of enjoying snack, I trekked up the grass in the dark.

    When I arrived at the Dungeon, I pulled out my notebook and jotted notes on my day. D3 also arrived early. He too had seen the line, thought Fuck that, and opted to come straight to our date.

    But I was still hungry.

    “Hey, you want to go to Waffle House?”

    D3 liked my idea. We walked to his car and headed off campus.

    As we got out of his car at the restaurant, I realized a small flaw in my plan: I was still wearing my Vixen outfit. My black wrap dress was street legal, covering all vital parts. But there was a lot of cleavage. And I still wore my fox tail. And my hair, care of Boymeat, was huge.

    We ordered our meals. Ate them hungrily. Chatted about this and that. When D3 stepped away to use the restroom, I grabbed the bill and paid for his food. Upon his return, he cursed me for my cunning.

    We headed back to his hotel room.

    I unlaced my moccasin boots. Took off my Vixen apparrel. Stripped down to Minnesota naked, my boot socks still on. Got under the covers as D3 prepped for bed.

    We chatted as he went about his nightly routine. I mentioned my fun with Boymeat. D3 mentioned the one time he happened to have stayed at Boymeat’s home and cleaned his bathroom. Life is random like that.

    Fully naked, D3 joined me in the bed.

    We continued to chat with the lights off. Until we weren’t talking anymore, but kissing. Writhing in his bed. His body against mine again. That familiar feel of his chest. His flesh. His lips.

    I wanted his cock in my mouth. I shoved the sheets aside. Went down on him. Licked and sucked as I pleased. Heard his noises. Smiled at my ability to pleasure him.

    Then he pulled my mouth back onto his lips. And pushed me onto my back. And his mouth was in my cunt.

    I worried about his neighbors. Worried they might call in a noise complaint. But I didn’t stop fucking his face. Didn’t stop moaning into his pillows.

    My hands gripped his bald head as his tongue worked on my clit. Obscenities spilled from my lips, as did his name. I came multiple times on his mouth, bucking and writhing my hips against him.

    His lips returned to my mouth, kissed me again, before he passed out, his head resting on my chest, both of us sweaty and exhausted.

  • The Need

    I was laden down with bags, three total. Two were my bootblack kit and the other backpack. I’d dressed up as a Vixen for the event that night. I made my way across the grass towards the pool, my moccasin boots sexy but with no arch support.

    And then I saw him sitting on the bench, reading Hunter S. Thompson, engaged in his own small part of the world.

    I dropped my things. Dropped everything, including my jacket. Rushed over and hugged him. Held him. Didn’t want to let him go.

    “It’s so good to see you.”

    “It’s great to see you too, Kristen.”

    We chatted for a moment or two about pleasantries. About our lives since he came for his visit. About what I had in store for my camp. And about how he just wanted to relax for his stay. He got another hotel room again; he needed the mental break. I was busy, as is my way.

    All the while, I stayed in close to him and he to me. My body wanted to be near him. I wanted to do more than talk. I saw the need in his eyes, too.

    We kissed.

    The familiar feel of his stubble on my lips. His smell. The way I lost myself in his embrace.

    I can’t say how long we stood there. How long we let our lips dance. Our tongues dash about. I just know I didn’t want to ever stop.

    But I had to stop.

    “I have to go. Playdate with the Pros, and I’m a Pro.”

    I gripped his hips. Imagined all the things I wanted to do with him. Clenched my teeth.

    “You want to play tonight?”

    We settled on a 1am meetup at the dungeon.

    And then I made myself leave.

  • Another One

    ~ Sunday afternoon at The Floating World ~

    I first noticed him during a class. He sat a few rows behind me.

    I happened to turn around and glance towards him. I first saw his boots. And then, slowly, up trailed my eyes, taking in the head-to-toe leather. Finally I saw the soft smile on his stern face, his gaze not on me.

    I made myself turn towards the front. I knew it, as soon as I saw him.

    Shit, another one. He was a leatherman.

    When class ended, I walked out into the hallway, avoiding the incredible urge to go say hi to him.
    It was the last day, and I was about to go to my last class.

    I passed Lynk in the hall, and doubled checked where Sadistic Massage would be held. He pointed me towards a nearby room. I sat down my things and wandered about the convention center during the break as the classes turned over.

    I stopped by the bootblacking station, checking in with D3 and rabbit to see how they were fairing. Few pairs of boots had graced their seats that day.

    Wandering back towards my class, there he was. He stood, showing off his cricket bat to a man I did not know.

    Meh, I thought. Why the fuck not?
     

    I slowly approached him and lightly touched his shoulder. He turned, looked at me, and smiled.

    “Hi. I just wanted to say your cricket bat looks awesome. I have a friend who uses one for play, and it’s a lot of fun.”
    “Why thank you.”
    “I’m poetic.”

    He introduced himself. I smiled wide.

    “Nice to meet you.”
    “You say your friend uses a cricket bat?”
    “Yes. In fact for my birthday, during my birthday spankings, I got hit with his cricket bat. And a pool stick. And a hockey stick.”
    “Really?”
    “I like pain. May I look at your bat?”
    “Sure.”

    He showed it off to me.

    “Yours looks rougher than his.”
    “Ah, his is finished.”
    “Finished?”
    “Laquered.”
    “Yes. And stingy as a hell. Well, I have to go. Class.”
    “Which one are you attending?”
    “Sadistic Massage with Lynk. It’s happening right over there.”
    “Sadistic Massage? I may see you in there.”
    “That would be nice. Well, it was nice meeting you.”

    I smiled, turned, and walked away.

    Fuck me; another one.

    I am such a sucker for a man in leather.