I called my mum today for Mother’s Day and after the usually niceties of ‘Happy Mother’s Day, did you get my card?’ she wanted to know about me:
“So, what have you been up to?”
“Oh, we went to a play party last night.”
“A play party????”
“Yeah, you know, you go to a dungeon and people do stuff.”
“Stuff???What do you mean stuff?”
“Like bondage and whippings and canings and stuff.”
“Oh………have you been to one before?”
“Yes, but that one was south of the river at a different person’s dungeon. The one we went to last night was quite homey.”
“And….does it hurt?”
“Whipping and stuff.”
“Yeah! Of course it does.”
“So obviously I didn’t give you enough of that when you were a child. Don’t they say that what you don’t get in your childhood you want when you become an adult?”
“I don’t think it works like that.”
“So how many people were there?”
“About thirty. It’s quite interesting to see what people wear.”
“Did you get dressed up?”
“Yeah, I went as a street hooker…thigh-high boots, garter belt, big hair…and my leash.”
“And was it like a ‘sex party’?”
“What do you mean? You mean, were people having sex all over the place?”
“God, no! Just whipping and bondage and stuff.”
“And there’s usually more subbie boys and their dominants than subbie girls and the women get all dressed up in corsets and stuff.”
“And there was this one guy who was glad-wrapped to a pole and they were flogging his thingie!”
I thought at that point that it might be a good idea to change the topic….to washing machines or plasma tvs or something more familiar and safe (my mum does sales in an electrical store).
Last night was….fun! I had fun getting dressed up, fun walking around with a leash dangling from my collar and fun having my nether regions exposed and cropped in a room full of people. Lol. It’s really quite addictive! The murmur of voices discussing all manner of things around you help put you in a lovely concentrated space. I was feeling ‘strong’ and almost asked for “More please Master” but the only implement that he hadn’t really used much at that stage was the cane and I didn’t want to encourage him with that wicked stick! But I did actually want Master to go to town on my ass in some way or form.
I don’t like watching people in pain. Although there is definitely a morbid curiousity to see just how those weights are hanging from a guy’s dick or whether a tens unit on a nipple makes goose-bumps, sometimes you’re just not sure where to look. I flinch and and I ‘feel’ those super sharp ‘thwack’s that resound through the air. I can ‘feel’ how much it hurts and even though they may be enjoying it I just want it to stop. Strange.
I was sitting there for a few hours feeling the furry rug on the bench where I was sitting intimately on my bare bum and minge, watching this subbie boy and that subbie girl get a really nice work out and fearing like death the moment when Master would put me up there. Before we had left the house I had gone and gotten the cane and the crop and a variety of bondage equipment-Master was going to go without. He had been talking all week about what he was going to do to me at the party and by Saturday night I was quite ‘offended’ that he wasn’t actually going to do it to me. If I was going to get all worked out, by god he was going to use me!
I think I’vebeen bitten by the exhibitionist bug! God help us all…