LF&P Decompress

It was an interesting LF&P to say the least.

This is only our 2nd of these, and the first, last summer's, was our first trip together to Cruci or any other BDSM venue, our first public play, etc. Since then Daddy's become sort of a fixture to a bunch of the staff, which means they know me by proxy even though I haven't been able to go as often as he has.

It was also the first LF that we were on dungeon crew. We were part of the breakdown and dungeon setup crew and managed to get the place totally torn down from vending and back up to dungeon playspace in 2 hours and 10 minutes. (!!!) This is a SERIOUSLY impressive number and is due entirely to M. and S.'s fantastic planning.

We picked up a 1" (I think) half-round acrylic cane and a medium-length double tail buffalo flogger which weighs almost five pounds and makes Bullwinkle, the moose flogger, look like some pansy lightweight pretend-piece, which it most certainly is NOT. Also, because I am such a collar addict, Daddy got me a squeetastic leather scene collar and surprised me with it. It's awesome! :)

There was a really odd dynamic, because I'm stupid/crazy/weird in the head. Daddy had his Other there (poly and BDSM Other) and I have had a really hard time with knowing where I stand with him when they are together. She told him she needed him to take care of her (I wasn't privy to the reason but I gathered it was something to do with social anxiety and the fact that she's had a really, REALLY shitty week IRL,) and he immediately put his arms around her to comfort her. He's good at comforting. This kind of killed me inside, but as usual, I was ambivalent -- part of me had instant fight-or-flight responses, wanting to start crying or just walk away, and part of me was okay with it. It's a VERY weird place to be, mentally. I still can't look at them when they're being physically affectionate, especially not as Top/bottom. I guess I will just have to Not Be Around when they are doing that.

The part of me that "eventually" (and I say this like it was a long time, which it was subjectively, but to the outside world it was only a few seconds,) won out was the part that felt that he was allowing her to supplant me as Daddy's Girl or whatever the hell title it is that I am supposed to have, so I backed off and let them be together. I felt very sad about this but I also felt like it was the right thing to do for both of them. Daddy didn't like that and snapped at me for it, which had the opposite effect he'd intended -- he wanted me to stop being subby and just be his wife, but him snapping at me in public like that just made me feel like he thought I was a bad girl when I was trying really hard to be GOOD, so I spent most of the rest of the LF in a haze of misery and resentment, which only doubled when Daddy's Other asked to have some time alone with him to shop. Once again I was really torn -- I wanted badly to say no, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings or his, and some part of me was okay with it, so I said that it was okay. They went off and did their thing till the vending was mostly over. Luckily Daddy and I had 2 hours of hard physical labor to help clear the air, and I was able to let it go, thanks to a few gourmet hugs from W. (Seriously, these things are a religious experience. W. is God when he gives hugs.) Then we (me and Daddy) went out to get something to eat for supper.

When we got back, we meandered around the main floor at Cruci -- as usual during the P part of the LF&P there's about two bazillion people cramming what's normally a nice quiet club. After making the rounds, I got into that playful headspace where I was quite willing to put my kink on display for the mundanes since it was MY club they were wandering around in -- I mean, you sort of have to be aware of what's going to happen inside when you pay a $30 fee to get in the door. So instead of changing into my corset and smexyundies in the chill-room like usual, I asked Daddy if we could go out and do it on the floor. There simply weren't enough plus-sized girls in corsets. I felt the need to represent. :)

After, Daddy decided to put me in the cage, yay! He got M. to get the big strap and tied swing ropes from the ceiling of the cage. The minute he climbed up there with rope strung over both shoulders, about 50 people got intensely curious as to what he was doing; I had an alarming moment where I realized exactly how many people were going to be looking at me and that I'd better reflect well on my Daddy. While I was waiting for him to finish the swing I got to flirt with M. He's such a sweetie! I am a total flirt with the male top crew and staff in that place because I feel safe. Once the swing was done and I climbed on, Daddy gave me wrist chains too and then closed the door. I got to flirt with a lot of people! Apparently I am a flirt-bird when I am caged. Also, a lot of them were staff/regulars, which was extremely gratifying. I got lots of touches, too, which was nice. I appreciate being touched A LOT when I am in headspace. (Although it's worth noting that Kel should have a black belt for her fingernails - first she tickled me and then she gave me goosebumps and made me shiver, which almost nobody can do.) I was very happy-glowy during the whole cage-scene-thingy. Added advantage -- I was the only person in the whole club who wasn't getting bumped into every few minutes. Heh.

Once Daddy took me down, I finally got to meet Sarah Sloane, whom we had decided was unable to coexist with me in the same space without the universe imploding since we never seemed to be able to meet up due to one or the other of us having some kind of obligation or illness. It was good to finally meet her. Hopefully we'll get a chance to chat sometime.

Then we went on the LF&P-neverending-quest-for-free-dungeon-furniture. After several minutes we settled for a free spanking bench, but there were a couple of glitches with that idea -- first, it backed up to a high-traffic area, so Daddy had to be extra careful of where his floggers were going; second, my right knee decided to be a bitch and after only a few minutes my whole right leg was in agony, and third, Daddy accidentally wrapped a tail from the moose flogger up between my legs which hit all the way up both outer and inner labia and onto my clit. I do NOT go in for impact on my pink parts -- that HURT (bad way,) and effectively aborted that scene. It also flipped my headspace into that limbo area between what I think of as subspace and what I think of as slavespace -- subspace is somewhat shallower and still lets me be bratty or talk back or be playful and bounce around. Slavespace is utter subsumption to Master's desires.

After a short interlude, Master found a massage table on the mezzanine that would do for our desires. We both thought that maybe we could just pick back up so he started out with the canes and paddles. They kind of worked but started to get too stingy-intense and I wasn't getting where I needed to go. (No catharsis, natch.) Finally I was able to get it through to him that I needed him to be hard and Dominant rather than gentle and caring, and when he flipped immediately I went over too. He switched to the new flogger, the double buffalo, and that got me down to where I needed to get to. The new flogger's name is Mack, as in Truck, because getting hit with it is much like getting hit with said truck, and because the only other apropos comparison I can think of, having a bowling ball dropped on me from a foot or so up, is far less poetic or humorous.

Then I glowed at people until it was time to go home.

I am sore as HELL today; upper body from shucking tables around as crew, and lower body from the deep-tissue trauma caused by FIVE POUNDS OF BUFFALO LEATHER being repeatedly slung at my ass. Daddy says the whole table moved every time he hit me with it. And I don't count lashes, so I don't know how many it was, but it was a lot. I am officially a heavy SM bottom when it comes to flogging.

Overall it was a net positive experience, for which I am quite thankful.

Acceptance: In Scene and In Practice

It's hard for me to describe my knowledge level here, because my life has been so wildly disparate a collection of meat experience and online liaison. When someone asks me, "How long have you been into the scene?" I have to cast about for an applicable response. The best I can do is this: I was familiar with the sensation of being in subspace long before anyone came into my physical proximity with so much as a bight of rope. Because of this, I struggle constantly with the labels, titles, and names for various states of being in the lifestyle. I may say D/s and mean B & D. The headspace is the same for me, and so I have a hard time realizing that others may need me to distinguish between the two.

Another facet of the struggle to grow into The Person I Want To Be is my long-term fight with self-image. (Hah, right? "Don't we all?" asks the peanut gallery.) I looked upon my first visit to a public playspace with a measurable amount of trepidation. Between my body weight and the many scars on the insides of my thighs, I felt almost paralyzed at the thought of showing myself to a bunch of strangers, especially in the uniquely-vulnerable position that a sub can find herself in during play.

Even at my debut event, the fall LF&P, I was entirely taken aback by the perceptible amount of acceptance in the scene. I didn't have to worry about being big or being scarred or being new. Nobody cared what I looked like, except that I looked happy. I've been complimented by strangers more in my several visits to Crucible than in my entire life previous.

You can't know how much that means to me.

I received an especially gratifying comment this past weekend at the BR Night at the Crucible. Niy put me in a loose karada of white cotton rope with miniature LED Xmas lights wrapped around it. Each set of lights ran on 4 AA batteries, with the battery packs tucked into the front of my panties. Aside from the multiple inquiries about how the lights were powered and where the batteries were stored, I got plenty of (very pleasing) long looks from the tops present (including Uncle Frazier, yay! Sexiest Dirty Old Man I EVER did see,) and from a bunch of the bottoms too. However, the nicest compliment I got was from one of the BR regulars. I was lounging on one of the couches in the former smokng lounge, legs stretched out, lights blinking and reading some book about the history of sex patents in the US. Said regular stood back and surveyed me, then told me "This is beautiful. A beautiful subby lounging on a couch in a classical pose, all comfy and tied up in her festive Christmas bondage, reading a book. This should be a poster or something."

I suck at accepting compliments, and this one was so nice and so uplifting that all I could really do was smile and babble something pleased-sounding that may or may not have been English.

Additionally, I got to snuggle with another non-busy subby who I'd spoken to in introduction only a half hour or so before.

I love this level of acceptance. I love that I get to experience it, and that I know that it extends to all within the scene.

I only wonder what's wrong with the world that one has to be part of a niche social group on the fringes in order to feel it. There are people on this earth that will never feel the kind of warmth and regard that I felt this weekend from a pair of relative strangers.