Heart Full Of Black

Let me just start by saying that many parts of this post will be fuzzy, due to the nature of the scene. I was fairly out of it by the end, and even some memories from before the scene are a little fuzzy. Subspace is a beautiful thing.

And Avah: Please don’t be mad at me. I’m just trying to write what I was feeling at that time. I was feeling stupid and irrational, and I know you know I don’t bear any ill will or harsh feelings towards you. I heart you Avah!

Sometimes, I’m an idiot. Really. But these days, I’m getting better at recognizing it. Sometimes, I can even admit it. It’s good for the soul, and of course, my ego, which, if not deflated regularly, would be massive.

I think its good that I can see and work on my negative qualities.

Like stupid jealousy that has no reason to rear its head. At the dungeon, for example.
Jefferson had dates to play with Avah and I. Avah was going to get up in rope suspension, and get fucked. I was going to be beaten.

While Miss Jo, Jefferson and Zelda were getting Avah set up for her suspension, I sat off to the side, on an unused piece of equipment, watching. I’m a klutz with no rope skills, so I thought it best to not get involved and muss things up.

But for some reason, I was feeling stupidly resentful and jealous.

I’ll be the first to admit it. I hate not being the center of attention, or at least, at the center of someone’s attention. I think it’s the Leo in my sign. (I’m an Aquarian, but my moon is in Leo. What a combination!)

I also have trouble dealing with two other issues:

I always tend to feel that the girls I’m friends with are prettier than me.

Which relates to two:

I often feel like people like them better than me.

In a way, they’re really one issue, the one where I feel like I’m not good enough, pretty enough, or interesting enough to keep people’s interest. You know, the low-self esteem thing. (I know, most of you who know me in person are going to be thinking “Wendy? Low self esteem? Pffft. Yeah right. It’s much better than it used to be. I’m medicated now, and it rarely pops up as an issue anymore, and I work very hard at it. I’ve had some very long intense discussions with my spirit guide about this, and how it relates to my jealously issues.)

I’m still shocked when people find me attractive. Really. It confuses the crap out of me.

When you combine my occasional low self esteem issues with stupid jealousy, it’s never a good mix. I’m not always a nice person. I can be vindictive and bitchy. I’ve done things within my social groups that I’m not always proud of.

But in the dungeon, at camp, I was proud of myself, despite my idiocy. I behaved, and I got over it. I gave myself a stern talking to.

‘Really Wendy’ I thought ‘What reason do you have to feel left out? This isn’t your scene. Watch and enjoy.’

‘And why the fuck are you so jealous? Jefferson has plans with you too. He knows you’re over here. You will get your chance to play too. When you do, then, it will be your turn to be the centre of attention. Right now, it’s not your turn. It is Avah’s turn. Why would you begrudge her that, when she’s your friend?’

Even my inner voice of reason can be selfish. ‘Anyway, it’s better to go second. He won’t be thinking of his next scene. You’ll be the total focus.’

‘And seriously’ said the inner voice ‘seriously, just shut the fuck up, and watch the hot scene that’s just about to happen in front of you.’

My inner voice is almost as good of a therapist as Dana, the one I pay. They both know when to yell at me and use reason.

Once I had talked my self down to normalcy, I realized I wasn’t quite as far on the fringes as I though. Miss Jo came over while Zelda was winching Avah up, to talk while she made a rope harness for her dick.

Match (mmm) came by, to chat, and borrow my lighter. (Which was later returned damn near empty. Note to self – keep back up fuego next time you hang out with those who like fire play)

A very nice young man who had messaged me about fucking his ass came over to introduce himself and say hello. And make out. Sadly, I didn’t wind up playing with him all weekend, which was a shame. He was pretty hot, especially in that Canadian Mountie outfit I saw him in later in the weekend. (Hey darlin’, if your reading this and still interested, hit me up!)

Most of all, I was able to be front and center for a really really hot scene.

Zelda and Miss Jo had picked some excellent coloured rope, which went really well with the lighting over the play area, and with Avah’s nicely tanned skin.

While Zelda, and Miss Jo were getting Avah up in the air, and hung in such a way that Jefferson would be able to fuck her, Marcus came by, and fluffed Jefferson.

So.
Fucking.
Hot.

Finally, Avah was up and ready. She got fucked. She got fingered. She had hot, screaming orgasms. She got swung all over the place while this was going on.

She goes into it much better in her post. It was her experience, after all.

She was up for about half an hour, and once down, immediately curled up on a chair with Jefferson, wrapped in a blanket that Miss Jo had wrapped around her.

The only thing I regret is that she may have not gotten as much aftercare time with Jefferson, because she knew I was up next. I hope you did my friend, and next time, take as long as your need darlin’. I shall be patient.

Aside:
Miss Jo has really awesome rope, in really awesome colours. You should buy rope from her. The next time I need rope, I’m so getting it from Miss Jo. (I think I’ll get some black, and if she has it, a nice reddish/pink. I’m very pale, and I think I’d looked good all gussied up in her rope. If I do, I’m so posting pictures.)

Speaking of pictures, Hey, Jefferson! Now that you have a computer that works well, maybe you can upload those photos from after camp, and send them to me?

Now, it was my turn.

“Do you want to go on the cross?” Jefferson asked

I looked around, at the cross, at some of the other setups in the dungeon. I always enjoy being on a cross, but tonight, some of the other equipment was calling to me. How often do I get such a selection to play with?

I chose an area right in the middle of the play space, a piece of equipment that was fairly basic. I don’t know what it’s called, but it was like and upside down ‘U’, just, with angles.

I took my gown off, and gave my glasses to Avah to hold onto while I was up. (I cannot see at all with out my glasses. I can see about six inches in front of my face. It’s actually kind of hot, in a scene. I’m blind, but can still see. I know there are people around, but not who, or if they’re looking, paying attention, what they thought about the scene. It’s really cool)

Jefferson tied me in what I think of as the Raven pose. A crucifix, if you may. I stood upright, with my arms straight out to my sides, rather than above my head.

The equipment was wide, very wide. I wasn’t able to reach either of the support beams that I was strung up between. I loved it. My world was reduced to vision six inches in front of me, my feet on the mat, and the feel of the hemp around my wrists.

I tugged and wiggled around in my bonds while Jefferson got his things together off to the side. The rope was just slack enough that I could grab it with my hands, and tight enough that I couldn’t slip out. I had room to move around just a bit, which I love. I love to be able to dance away from the strikes heading towards me. I was able to sag into them as well. I think, had I wanted, I could have fallen to my knees, with my arms pulled tight.

Finally, he started.

He started with the flogger.

I don’t yell much when I get flogged or beaten. I do my best to take it, with out yelling out. I don’t know why.

My back was hot and achy when Jefferson came close to check on me, biting my back, hard, and going back to flogging. I think, at this point, he started with the heavier, bigger flogger. I remember that at first, where I could stand and take it, now I was sagging, pulling on the ropes with each blow, thuddy, beautiful, and stinging where he had bitten. I think that’s where I started crying quietly, tears silently running down my face.

After sometime being beaten, and being checked on, I don’t know how long, he started with the thick bamboo.

I love, and hate, the bamboo. After the first stroke, I was crying out loud

“No, no please no, please not that, please, no no no…”

Of course, he knew better than to listen to me. I cried, I yelled, I twisted and danced away, trying to avoid his aim.
Again, after time that I have lost, but I do believe that it wasn’t very long. Jefferson came to check on me.

“My hands are numb.” I sobbed, I sniffled. “I think I pulled to hard”

As I said, I have a habit of pulling and struggling against rope. That’s half the fun, really. But Jefferson didn’t know that, and the knots were a bit loose. He took me down right away, and we rubbed my hands back warm, and retied my wrist. I put three fingers between my wrist and the rope this time, to give me plenty of room to pull.

Very soon, I was back up, and we were back in business. The flogger again, if I remember correctly, before switching back to the bamboo.

I really do prefer playing in a dungeon to playing at home. The actions may be the same, but the ambiance makes all the difference to me. I can’t always get into the headspace that I want to be in at home, with the sound of traffic going by, on a nice comfy bed, untied and being beaten.

Here, I was strung up, in the middle of the dungeon. It was a complete unknown. I didn’t know anyone yet, I didn’t know where I was.

I could sense the other people in the area moving around, I could hear them talking among themselves, and I didn’t know if they were watching me, or completely ignoring me. For all I knew, they didn’t give a damn about me or my scene. For all I knew, they could be watching intently.

I could feel eyes on me, could see bodies moving around, but couldn’t tell who they were, I couldn’t read their faces

I could hear other people being played with, crying out, the sounds of leather hitting flesh, of winches being raised and lowered.

It was amazing, truly. Awesome. I can’t do it justice with words, especially not now, out of that space, not while sitting at a computer in my apartment, not when back to reality.

By the time Jefferson started with the thin, stingy bamboo canes, I was gone, I was flying. I was hyper-aware of my body, of each strike of the cane. Everything seemed so much more, so much louder. It all seemed so much more real, yet so much less so.

I could feel the tear tracts on my face, felt the loss of each drop as it rolled off my face, falling towards the mats.

By now, I was gone, so deep in the moment. I winced, I jumped, I fell forwards into my bonds, trying to avoid the bamboo to no avail.

At the fringes of my mind, the last rational bit, I think, ‘This is the most amazing scene I have ever had.’

I hadn’t truly given myself over like this, in a very long time.

Jefferson stopped again, coming to check on me again, to see how I was holding up.

By this point, I was sobbing, the tears running freely down my face, as I sagged into my bonds. I was sniffling and gasping, because my nose was stuffed from all my crying.

When he asked me if I was ok, I told him I needed to blow my nose. Jefferson left me hanging there while he went to find a tissue. When he came back, he held it to my nose.

“Blow it!” he growled, loud enough for others to hear. I did, but this humiliated me, more than anything. Being tied up, naked and beaten in the middle of the dungeon was fine. But being forced to blow my nose like that, to display a bodily activity I normally wouldn’t make so public, or part of a scene, was terrible. I couldn’t stand it. I’d rather not breath then blow my nose like that.

“Please, don’t make me do this!” I begged, and even to me, knowing that I specifically meant the nose blowing… it sounded horrible. My voice was thick with tears and humiliation.

Dear Jefferson heard that, and he interpreted it as a plea to end the scene.

Now, at that time, I was willing, and desperately wanted, to continue. But in hindsight, he was right to take me down. I couldn’t have taken much more, but I was in no state to make that call.

I remember swaying on my feet as he untied my wrists, and falling into his arms, still sobbing. Eventually, he maneuvered us down, so we were on the mat. I remember kneeling, because there was no way I could sit. I remember again, being in Jefferson arms. For the longest time, I cried, and I cried hard. Deep sobs, and thick tears. I would stop, trying to compose myself, and I would start again. Someone came by and brought us ice water. (I later found out that it was Tatsumi who brought the water over for us, and that it was Miss Lolita who asked her to bring it to us, which was so very thoughtful.) I didn’t realize how much I needed it, but I knew that I wouldn’t have wanted Jefferson to go away if I asked.

I don’t know how long we stayed there on the mat, but I finally started to come down a bit, and gain awareness of my surroundings. I put my night gown back on, but I was still shivery, from cold and from coming down from the scene.

I could hear Avah behind me, talking to someone, and I felt another surge of jealousy. It was dumb of me, but at that moment, I did not want her there. I heard her coming closer, and I burrowed closer to Jefferson. Then, she did the sweetest thing ever. She knelt down next to me, and wrapped me in the blanket she had around her shoulders, and cuddled up next to me. It was awesome.

It also snapped me out of any stupid jealousy. We are in no way rivals, despite sleeping with, and having feelings for, several of the same men. We’re friends. That one action, putting the blanket around me, both literally and figuratively sharing her comfort with me, reminded me of that.

Avah is awesome. I am occasionally dumb.

A note on the music during the scene:
Now, I do believe it was DJ Pet who did all the music play lists and such for the camp, and let me tell you, I loved the music in the dungeon that night! I got beaten to both ‘Be My Druidess’ by Type O Negative (Mmm..Peter Steele) and ‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails. That made the little goth girl that still lives in the cockles of my heart quite gleeful. Yeah, they were *just* a bit cliché, but in a good way.

After I had come down enough to get up and walk, we (Jefferson, Avah, Miss Jo, Zelda and I) headed over to midnight snack. (I’ve noticed that there are two things that always, always make me work up an appetite. Embalming, and kinky sex. Go figure. After both, I always need to find a snack.)

The walk from the dungeon to the dining hall felt almost unreal to me – I was still floaty, clinging to Jefferson and Avah as we made our way there.

Snack was very tasty. Brownies, cookies and milk, and some hot food. I noticed something odd when I tried to eat – I had gotten some of the hot food, sausages and onions, and small meatballs. But when I tried to eat them, I simply could not tolerate the meat. Something about the taste of it, the way it felt in my mouth, really turned me off. I had eaten the same food earlier in the day with no trouble. I love meat. I’m a bit of a carnivore, really. Looking back, I think it must have been my mental state, but it seems like such an odd thing to happen – why wouldn’t I be able to tolerate meat after a beating? I didn’t have any problems with the cookie or bit of brownie I had, or the milk.

We didn’t stay very long – Avah and I had both had very intense scenes, and we were absolutely ready for bed. We headed back to the cabin, each of us flanking Jefferson as we cut across the grass.

As soon as we reached the cabin, Avah and I got ready for bed, cleaning up, getting our sleep mask, and for me, taking my pills and setting up my iPod with some Eddie Izzard. I love to fall asleep listening to stand up comedy.

We curled up together, and Jefferson kissed us each goodnight. But before I drifted off, I had a moment of clarity.

“Jefferson…where’s my leather strap? Where are all the toys?”

He looked confused for a moment, before it dawned on all of us.

Avah, Jefferson and I, all walking arm in arm back from snack…and Jefferson with out his toy bag.

The toys were all sitting on a chair in the dinning hall.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 3rd, 2007 at 12:33 am and is filed under Jefferson, Kink, Miss Jo, avah, bamboo, bondage, canes, flogging, humiliation, jealousy, lolita wolf, marcus, match, rope, sex camp, subspace. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.