A couple of weeks back M and I were supposed to go to a play party.
I really find going to play parties to be a two-edged sword: on one edge is the fact that I need to play in front of other people because I have a much higher pain tolerance when I know there are others watching and silently judging (which generally results in much nicer trophies for me!) but on the other edge is the fact that I find it sooooo hard to get naked and play in front of other people when I know they are watching and silently judging.
It takes a lot of pre-party talking to myself to get me out the door and once I’m there, it’s a whole other minefield of small talk with people I don’t know, comparing myself to everyone else and generally feeling pretty uncomfortable.
I’ve said to M a few times that I’d like him just to have me kneel silently on the floor, suitably slave-like and possibly with extended periods of head-to-the-floor time, just so I can minimise the need to do the small talk with people, but that’s no fun for him either because he doesn’t know many people and probably ends up feeling as awkward as I do without me to talk to.
It’s not that I don’t want to meet new people or make friends, it’s just…you know…so hard.
It’s doubly hard at the moment in that the only place we do any play of any description is at play parties. A distinct lack of toys in the toy box after the Great Slave Tantrum of 2014 (a.k.a everything was given away/thrown away/sold) and the noise/space constrictions of apartment-living mean we don’t play at all unless we’re somewhere else.
(Of course, those could just be excuses for a much larger problem, but I do genuinely feel funny about impact toys making a lot of noise in our rather echoy place.)
The day of the play party I ended up getting my period so that seriously put a dampener on things. I’ve been to play parties before with a tampon string hanging out my twat and while it’s not a good look, it can certainly be done. You do need to remember to shove the string up your twat when there are floggers around though…(my, that is a lovely vivid image, isn’t it?)
So I was genuinely glad to have an excuse not to go. I am not feeling good about myself/my body at the moment and the last thing I needed was a lot of young, lithe, slim chicks having fun around me while I wondered what the fuck I was doing and what the fuck happened to me. And then when we didn’t go I felt sad because I didn’t go and didn’t get some play.
Ahh…that two-edged sword has such a delicious cutting edge..
A lot of the time I don’t even know if I want play. I’m not sure if it’s just something I think we *ought* to be doing because we’re in an M/s relationship or whether I genuinely want something to endure. I’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. I get some bruises, post some pics online and then what? It all seems hollow and pointless.
And now I’ve run out of cappuccino so I guess that’s the end of my musing.
In other news, I’m pretty bogged down in rewriting my story (we all knew that was going to happen, didn’t we?) Maybe I’ll have it ready in time for Christmas…lol. Seriously, it will probably take me that long….
I’m also into week 10 of my marathon training and getting to that point where I’m finding it difficult to find places to run distance-wise and avoiding the boredom trap-wise. I’ve purchased some new gear – new shoes, bras and tons of socks in my quest to find the holy-grail of a pair of socks that will help me avoid blisters. And as winter is coming (yes, I’ve already watched the first four episodes of GoT season 5) I’ll probably need to start running at lunchtime soon so that will be fun too…not.