Oooh, You Have A New Toy?

20/08/2012 by

And it’s sharp? And it’s metal?….You should not have shown that to me…
Thoughts on Tuesday night’s play date:

The order of things didn’t quite go as planned. The plan was for me to leave a meeting and arrive for fun times in top headspace. And that’s exactly how I arrived, complete with bag of goodies in tow. Then, before we actually get into our scene, my dommliness is forced into hiding when he produces a new toy. A sharp, shiny, ohmyFUCKpleaseuseitonme toy. A Wartenberg wheel in all its skin prickling glory. And thus, our evening started with me serving as the bottom and him serving as top.

It seems like it’s been ages since I’ve had cold metal drawn across my flesh; something with a bite capable of drawing blood, that leaves me shivering, whimpering, and cooing. I absolutely love the way it feels and what it does to me. I’m not exactly sure what about this drives me crazy, but it does. It’s not always necessarily a blade the provides these sensations and reactions for me, but the combination of metal and a sharp edge can be mind boggling. I mean, I’ve simply had chains laid across my torso while my ankles and wrists were being cuffed and it was heaven. Last night’s experience with the Wartenberg wheel has been the closest thing to blade play that I’ve had in almost a year and my head is now flooded with thoughts of knives and blades and cuts and blood and metal and scars and holy shit I need to calm down.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath in. Let it out.

I guess what I’m trying to get at here is that I didn’t know how much I’d missed this kind of play until I had the chance to indulge in it again. I think it might actually send me into subspace a bit…not really sure about that though. I know subspace varies for different people, but that’s a whole other post/topic for another time or else this may go on forever.

(Note to self: write about the confusing matter of subspace and myself because maybe writing about it will help make sense of it)

Time For Another Introduction

14/08/2012 by

Since my name is now listed over there under ‘Authors,’ I figured it’s about time that I make an introductory post. I hate doing these things because, well, I’ve never considered myself as someone that another person would be interested in knowing and/or learning about, but here goes.

Hello, I’m Helicase and I’m the other lady that Chuck is seeing—and just as Micchi, I also have permission to post here. I’m 23 years old and have just begun my exploration of the kink world; so far I’m loving it. I’ve lived in North Carolina all of my 23 years—in the same area, unfortunately, and am stuck here until I find means to be elsewhere. I don’t really have a label for myself to help you identify with me; however, I will say that I’m an evolving soul. My family is very important to me even if I complain about them until your ears bleed; they may be the death of me, but they’ve also helped in their own ways. I should also mention that my family is very religious; it consumes a good deal of my time and has played a fairly major role in my life thus far. There’s a large portion of my life that is nothing so I apologize if I’m completely clueless about some things.

Anywho, last year—around this time, actually—there was an amazing woman that made me realize that life is worth living and that happiness (even if not found) is at least worth the time and effort to actively pursue. And here I am on my adventure to find happiness and accept myself, especially the parts that I had hidden away.

Now on to the kinky bit. . . I can’t really remember a specific age or experience that caused me to think, “hey, I really wanna do that!!” I do; however, remember watching movies in my youth and having extended scenes playing in my head afterward—perverted Disney edition, of course (I mean, princess Jasmine in chains? Unf, don’t get me started). Moving on . . .  I had someone suggest checking out a site called FetLife. I made a profile and started poking around, and looky there, I found a friend and classmate and she gladly took me under her wing and answered questions and whatnot. Since then I have explored and grown.

A lull crept into my play activities due to the happenings of life and I began looking for new play partners. After I’d had a taste, five months or so without even a pat on the ass was getting to me. I had no intentions of looking for a romantic relationship, just someone who would indulge in some bdsm play with me from time to time—which is where Chuck comes in. I contacted him back in April of this year. We arranged a meet-and-greet and later made plans to attend a play event. That play event was my first ever visit to a dungeon and it’s also the day I met Micchi.

Needless to say, we kind of hit it off. Now I have a full spread for my voracious appetite—I have a wonderful boyfriend and girlfriend as well as a handful of play partners (some potential that I’ve been talking too for a while, others that I see on a not-so-regular and/or semi-regular basis).

I don’t know how frequently I’ll end up posting, but I’m sure you’ll see me from time to time.

—Helicase

Today, in “Rules of the Scene”

12/08/2012 by

Rule One: “If it’s not yours, don’t touch it.”

Pretty simple, no? If you didn’t bring it, get permission before you pick it up, move it, or change it. If you think it belongs to the house, get permission from the host(s). If they tell you it’s not theirs, find out who it belongs to.

As a sidenote: If you don’t like the music, the person who put the music together can generally help you find better music for your scene than you will get if you just pick a random playlist. And they’ll likely be more than happy to help.

I Am Not A BBW: A Rant

10/08/2012 by

(A Note: Originally posted on Ye Olde FetLife. Reposted here under encouragement. :D)

Warning! Warning! Ranty rant rant! Obscenity! BIG WORDS! Apparently, today’s subdrop has been brought to you by the letter FUCK YOU WITH THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON.

Ahem.

I greatly dislike being referred to as a BBW.

I’m not saying this to body-shame anyone. Y’all know me, I’m constantly spewing my opinions about how beauty comes in all shapes and colors across your feeds. My word-salad often has exactly one message: Everyone is goddamn beautiful, except the bigots and the racists and the all-purpose douche canoes, so shut the fuck up already.

I’m not shaming anyone for having preferences, for finding certain features and body shapes attractive. Everyone has things that will make them turn their heads to one side and declare their intentions to spend the remainder of the evening in their bunk. I fap (when granted permission), you fap, we all fuckin’ fap (except those of you in long-term chastity), and we fap to things we find hot, not necessarily everything that comes across our paths.

I’m not shaming women who self-identify as BBW. You’re cool, ladies. You’re giving your consent to it. Rock the fuck on, and keep being your sexy selves. (No, seriously, keep it up. You’re gorgeous because you are strong and confident. Confidence is sexy.)

But I really, really, reallyreally dislike it when I’m told what a “hot BBW” I am.

Why, you ask? Why would I be grumpy that someone likes the way my body is shaped? I mean, shouldn’t I be happy that there are people in this world who will give me a second glance, considering that the prevalent picture of “beauty” is the skinny white chick? (PS, if you believe this, unfuck you.)

Because it’s not about someone liking how my body is shaped. It’s about someone who only likes me because of how my body is shaped. It’s non-consensual objectification. And fuck, I *like* being objectified, in consensual scenes, by people I know are doing it because I’ve told them it makes my (metaphorical) dick hard, who I’ve asked to objectify me because I know it makes their (metaphorical or non-metaphorical) dick hard.

I do not like being objectified non-consensually.

What I look for in people I choose to add to my life are people who like me for all of me, not people who look at a single feature about me and obsess over that. I want people who lift me up, who support me in the changes I choose to make in my life. I want people who will sit down to a game of Cards Against Humanity with me, who will talk about the weather with me, who will hold me when I get emotional. I want people who will support me when I say I want certain cosmetic surgeries. I want people to tell me “You’re gorgeous as fuck, and I support your decision to change your body in the way that makes you feel the most comfortable.”

I want people who like me. Who find my intelligence and wit just as sexy as my tits. People who want to know more about me. I want people who can’t get enough of me, because I make them feel loved and cared for.

I don’t want people who just want to see how my flesh jiggles when they’re pounding me for all they’re worth. I mean, it’s fine if you do like seeing how my flesh jiggles, but it’s not fine when it’s the sole reason you want to hang out with me.

Furthermore, and this is where I get *ranty as all fuck*, a lot of BBW fetishists will say “Don’t lose weight!” “Your body is perfect!” “You have curves, like a real woman!”

…Lemme just dissect those things and show you what makes me uncomfortable about them, k? K.

A) I want to lose weight for myself, not for anyone else. I’m healthy right now, yes, and I’m fine with the weight I am. I’ve lost a TON of weight for myself and my health – no, seriously, at my heaviest, I was over 500 pounds. These days, I weigh right around 250, fluctuating 10 pounds either way depending on time of the month. A lot of it is muscle (seriously, have you seen my legs? I do not have “BBW” legs. I am built like a fucking sixteen year old from the waist down. Which brings another rant to mind – do you understand how fucking hard it is to find plus-sized, skinny leg, petite-length jeans?! FUCK, no wonder I prefer dresses!), but a good bit of it is still fat.

B) My body is not perfect. I have a list of cosmetic surgeries I want to undergo because while I am okay with my body, I am not happy with it. I want a breast lift. I want to nip and tuck all this extra skin I have. I want a little lipo on my gut, because no amount of sit-ups is going to make that go away, for Reasons. My body will never be perfect, but these surgeries will help me feel even more confident about myself. (Although thinking on it, maybe I should skip the surgeries. I mean, I’ve got more confidence in myself right now than I’ve ever had, and it’s kind of scary how my good days result in “FUCK YOU I CAN DO ANYTHING!” mindsets…) (That was a joke.) And you know what gets my motor running? It’s not when either of my partners says “Oh, but you’re so pretty just the way you are!”, it’s when they say “I support your decision. What can I do to help you?”.

C) Telling me that “real women have curves!” is a form of body-shaming. Fuck you, real women are those who stand up and say “Hey, I’m a woman!”. Doesn’t matter if they’ve got a flat chest and hip bones poking out. Doesn’t matter if they have a penis. A real woman is a person who looks at you and says “I’m a woman.” And yes, filling out “Female” in the gender box counts as looking at you and saying “I’m a woman.” Deal with it. (On a similar note, if a person’s got some wickedly dangerous curves, and tells you “I am not a woman.”, they are not a fucking woman, even if they’ve got a pair of tits that should be classified as blunt weaponry. RESPECT THAT FOR FUCK’S SAKE.)

Yes, I get a little offended when people message me out of the blue and tell me how much of a sexy BBW I am. No, I’m not going to go on a campaign to tell women to stop self-identifying as BBWs. No, I’m not going to tell people that they’re BAD BAD PEOPLE for prefering larger women.

All I’m saying is, for fuck’s sake, respect my choice to not self-identify that way, and respect my desire to have a deeper connection with someone I want to fuck into next week than just a fetish for the shape of my body.

One More Set…

03/08/2012 by

And here is the final set of music for the party tomorrow:

Set #4 – 1h51m

Track #

Artist

Track Title

1

Covenant

Ritual Noise (Edit)

2

KMFDM

That’s All

3

Apoptygma Berzerk

Love Never Dies (Part 1)

4

Covenant

Like Tears in Rain

5

Front 242

Animal (Radio)

6

KMFDM

Megalomaniac

7

Funker Vogt

Date of Expiration (Expired)

8

Rammstein

Links 2 3 4

9

Combichrist

Winteryear

10

VNV Nation

Freude (schlachtfeld version by :Wumpscut)

11

Girls Against Boys

She’s Lost Control

12

Skold Vs KMFDM

Why Me?

13

Rammstein

Weisses Fleisch

14

Apoptygma Berzerk

Fade to Black

15

Covenant

Wir Sind Die Nacht

16

Funker Vogt

Funker Vogt Second Unit (Transmitted)

17

VNV Nation

Standing (Motion)

18

Assemblage 23

Purgatory

19

Icon of Coil

Headhunter

20

White Zombie

More Human Than Human

21

Rammstein

Pussy

22

Skinny Puppy

Optimissed

23

Marilyn Manson

Rock is Dead

24

Laibach

Das Spiel Ist Aus

25

VNV Nation

Solitary (Signals Version)

26

Pitchshifter

Genius

27

Orgy

Dissension

Summer Revel

02/08/2012 by

Micchi and I are going to a play party this Saturday, in the Asheville area.  In an attempt to practice mixing music for play events, I have spent the week working on music for this event.  I still have about 2 hours of music to mix, but here’s the playlist so far.  I’m kinda excited to see what reactions this gets.

Set #1 – 1h25m

Track #

Artist

Track Title

1

VNV Nation

Anthem V2.0

2

KMFDM

Beast

3

Front 242

Melt (Again)

4

Combichrist

This Shit Will Fuck You Up

5

KMFDM

Not In My Name

6

Funker Vogt

Fallen Hero (Underwater Pilots)

7

Covenant

I Am

8

Assemblage 23

Collapse

9

KMFDM

Sturm und Drang

10

Front 242

Headhunter V1.0

11

Icon of Coil

You Just Died

12

Lords of Acid

Stoned on Love Again

13

Apoptygma Berzerk

Non-Stop Violence (CNN Edit)

14

Covenant

Theremin (Club Edit)

15

VNV Nation

Ghost (Nomenklatur Remix)

16

The Cruxshadows

Marilyn, My Bitterness 2.0

17

KMFDM

Naive (My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult Remix)

18

Icon of Coil

Simulated (Funker Vogt Remix)

19

KMFDM vs PIG

Fuck Me

Set #2 – 1h51m

Track #

Artist

Track Title

1

NIN

Head Like a Hole

2

Kidneythieves

Before I’m Dead

3

KMFDM

Day of Light

4

The Prodigy

No Man Army

5

Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper

Hands of Death

6

Electric Hellfire Club

Sunday Bloody Sunday

7

A23

Pages

8

Lords of Acid

Glad I’m Not God!

9

KMFDM

Bumaye

10

KMFDM

Piggybank (Shock Mix)

11

Covenant

Lightbringer

12

NIN

Closer

13

KMFDM

Rules

14

F242

Serial Killers Don’t Kill Their Boyfriend

15

A23

Damaged

16

Covenant

Bullet

17

KMFDM vs PIG

Secret Skin

18

The Cardigans

Erase/Rewind

19

Lords of Acid

Am I Sexy?

20

The Prodigy

Baby’s Got a Temper (Instrumental)

21

The Cruxshadows

After All

22

APB

Backdraft

23

Combichrist

Feed Your Anger

24

KMFDM

Brute

25

Rammstein

Rosenrot

26

Rob Zombie

I’m Your Boogieman

27

KMFDM

Los Ninos del Parque

Set #3 – 2h17m

Track #

Artist

Track Title

1

Lords of Acid

I Sit on Acid

2

KMFDM

Liebesleid (Infringement Mix)

3

The Cruxshadows

Heart on My Sleeve

4

Front 242

Headhunter (Funker Vogt Remix)

5

Funker Vogt

Prisoners of War (Dance or Die Remix)

6

Icon of Coil

Shelter

7

Combichrist

Products (Life Composer Version)

8

Assemblage 23

Decades V2

9

Apoptygma Berzerk

Unicorn (Video Version)

10

Funker Vogt

Black Market Dealers

11

Eurythmics

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) (Hot Remix)

12

KMFDM

Ready to Blow

13

Lords of Acid

Gimme Gimme

14

VNV Nation

Space & Time

15

Covenant

Judge of My Domain

16

Laibach

Tanz Mit Laibach

17

The Cruxshadows

Tears (APB remix)

18

KMFDM

Spit or Swallow (Electric Stomp Mix)

19

Rammstein

Ich Will

20

Dope

You Spin Me Round (Murder Mix)

21

KMFDM

Juke Joint Jezebel

22

DAF

Der Sheriff

23

Smashing Pumpkins

Bullet With Butterfly Wings

24

Icon of Coil

Thrillcapsule (Moonitor Remix)

25

Orgy

Blue Monday

26

KMFDM

Krank

27

VNV Nation

Chrome (Single Mix)

28

Skold

Anything

29

Cyber-Tec Project

Cauterized (K-Nitrate EBM Mix)

30

Lords of Acid

Pussy

31

Neuroticfish

They Are Coming To Take Me Away

Break Me Down…

30/07/2012 by

When I say I want someone to break me, I don’t mean I want them to break my spirit.

Growing up, I always got the “suck it up!” mentality shoved on me. As a result, I became very adept at bottling things up. The older I got, the more I came to realize that bottling things up was unhealthy, in the long term. But instead of going out and finding a support group to lean on, I chose to build up walls. If things can’t hurt me, I can’t bottle up my emotions, right?

Wrong.

I’m realizing now that these walls are just as toxic as bottling the emotions inside. At the same time, I’m living in a toxic situation right now, and my walls are my last line of defense against being sucked back into a life of emotional abuse. I have no choice but to put the walls in place, to protect myself. And I know that even when I’ve finally left this toxicity behind, I’ll still erect my walls, because it’s a lifetime of habit that is really hard to break. I had finally gotten to the point where I wasn’t erecting my walls in my previous relationship, and…well. That didn’t end so well. So I’m afraid that it may take more time, because now I’m scared that the people I love will not be able to handle me with my walls down.

The problem is that, on the occasion that I get to go out and be with the people who love me, all of me…tearing down those walls is not nearly as easy as putting them up. I can’t tear down my walls by myself. After building them, and defending them, and keeping myself safe…I just don’t have the energy to break them back down again.

And so, I ask for help. I ask Chuck, and sometimes others, to tie me to something and wail away on me until I scream and cry and sob brokenly. I want them to break me. Not break my spirit, but break down those walls that I put up. I want to be thrown over the cliff. I want to be forced to confront my feelings, my demons. And then I want to be surrounded by the people in my life who make me a stronger person while I recover. I want to allow them to help me build a firm foundation to stand on, instead of more walls to close in all of my inner pain.

Oh, sure, I enjoy the beatings just for the sake of it being a beating. I like the pain. More truthfully, I like the lingering tingles, the way my skin feels like it’s throbbing and buzzing after a particularly nasty hit. I wear my marks like a badge of honor, and spend days afterwards admiring the healing process. Giggling and poking bruises. Languishing in the joy, in the happiness, in the knowledge that I was truly able to let go, and that I allowed other people to share in that.

I don’t necessarily have to be restrained to enjoy a beating. But there is a very different level of intensity, and a very different headspace, when I am restrained. And it looks the same on the outside – I cry and sob and cling to people. But the difference inside my head is huge.

Unrestrained, I am there until I have my personal fill. Until I’ve confronted the demons I want to confront, until I have received the pleasure I want to receive. And then I call a red, and I cry, and I cling to people. I feel refreshed, re-energized, better able to deal with life. But there are still walls there. Sure, the walls that are left now have a nifty new door, and sure, I’m happy to leave that door open for a while, but they’re still there.

Restrained, however…restrained, I push myself far past where I want to go for myself. I let the person I’m playing with take me where they want to go. I don’t just let them break my walls. I let them throw a grenade over the top and shatter those walls, from the inside out. I won’t let someone take me to a place that will harm me. But if unrestrained, I throw myself over the cliff feet-first…restrained, I allow someone else to toss me over the edge head-first and screaming.

I am a thousand times more raw after a scene where my hands, at the very least, are restrained. I haven’t experienced more than that yet, but I would absolutely love having hands and feet tied to the cross, while I’m blindfolded, and see how far into my very soul I reach to heal.

It’s also part of the reason I’m not particularly worried about the subdrop I know is going to come my way. Yes, it sucks to be in the midst of it. But that drop is when I really and truly process what happened. When I come to terms with the problems I have in my life. When I can let go of the negativity, the hurt, the shame that’s plagued me for years and years.

The drop will always pass. But the pride, the love for myself, the love from others…that will stay with me.

And that is why I do what I do.

That is what I’m asking when I ask to be broken.

BDSM: There might be no “One True Way” to do things, but there are definitely ways NOT to do things.

29/07/2012 by

So, a friend of mine archived the discussion I mentioned earlier, so I can make sure that my memory isn’t playing tricks on me.

I’m not going to name the person who made the post, because I honestly hold him no ill will.

However, he began talking about how no-one in the community sees him as an edge-player because “of all the safety crap and vanilla influence that has been invading OUR world.” (emphasis his).

This bothers me.  Edgeplay is inherently dangerous, so you need to take care to be doing it safely.  If I’m playing with someone’s breath, I’m going to make sure that they can communicate with me that they need to breathe again.  It I’m sticking needles in someone, I’m going to do what I can to reduce the risk of blood born pathogens being transferred from one person to the other.  If I’m kidnapping someone, I’m going to make sure that they are with people who know what’s going to happen (to minimize my risk of being arrested for something consensual), that we’ve discussed potential mental landmines ahead of time, etc.  I am not going to do extra-dangerous play without doing what I can to mitigate the risks, and I would hope that noone else out there would, either.

But if he had stopped there, things would have been fine.

People begin to call the poster out on this, respectfully, but the poster digs in and continues making outrageous statements denigrating safety and non-edgy play.

And then when someone points out that they didn’t appreciate the “true” / edgier-than-thou attitude, the poster (a 50ish male) responds that the 34-year-old woman calling him out on that is “still young.”  Further more, the poster says the following:  “My play is better, my ethics, morals, idealisms (sic) better.  I am more real than most.”

Then, when someone comments that the poster has a history of ignoring consent, the poster demands “tell me the rumors, I love making a lier (sic) out of people.” and “Tell me ONE time?”

So, I pipe up:  “[Name], you violated my consent Friday by hugging me from behind.  Had you asked for the hug, I would have said no.  There, you have ~one instance~ of you doing things without consent.  Perhaps you will just dismiss this as ‘Oh, it was just a hug!’ Well, the way you comport yourself outside of a scene implies how you will comport yourself inside, so ‘just a hug’ is important.”

In response, the poster announced that he can live with breaking consent on a hug, friend-shamed me (we are not, nor have we ever been friends, but he thought that by saying “I thought we were closer friends!” that he could shame me), rescinded an offer of housing that had already been declined (the offer was made to Micchi and not to me, but with my blessing she had declined), and finally age-shamed me (“You’re not old enough to have a clue what the scene is”), in the span of 3 posts.

The poster then proceeded to repeatedly complain about how I was upset over “just a hug” (sound like what I prebutted in my first post to him?  yeah.)

Others were age-shamed, more whinging about “hug protocols” was made, Micchi jumped in with an amazing post that was ignored.

The poster made a post that, in one breath said the following two things:  “I have supported the Younger Generation fully” and “the most complaints are from those too young to even know the scene.”

There’s more that I could go into, but here’s the key takeaway:

  • Don’t be a dick.  This is the biggest thing to remember.
  • There is no ‘One True Way’.  Saying that you are “more real” than someone (or everyone) else is condescending as hell, and meaningless.
  • Consent is key.  Don’t touch what isn’t yours, unless you have permission.  This includes things and people – s-types and D-types, and everything else, too.  DON’T TOUCH PEOPLE WITHOUT PERMISSION.
  • If someone rebuts you, be gracious.
  • Shaming people is not cool.  Body, age, identification, whatever kind of shaming you are doing, stop it! – Oh, as a parting shot, just before the poster took down the thread, he tried to weight shame me by expressing his disgust at how a Dom could be so fat.  Yes, I’m overweight.  I’m also losing weight.  Weight shaming is just as uncool.
  • If you’re going to claim that you’re supporting a group, don’t tell that group that they can’t possibly know anything about something that they are quite obviously involved in.

There’s more to be said, but I’m stopping there.

Feel free to discuss this – I am more than willing to discuss it as a reasonable adult.

Incoming…

29/07/2012 by

Processing some drama that just went down.  When it’s fully processed, there will be a proper post about it.

Other than that, the weekend has been amazing.  Went to two events – one on Wednesday, one on Friday, beat some ass, introduced someone to the joys of waxplay, saw both Micchi and Helicase (two of the asses I beat).

And then… someone shows their ass all over FetLife.  And deletes the post where they did so, so I cannot even quote them properly.

The Weekend.

11/07/2012 by

I’ve been delaying writing this for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I’m not exactly at home right now. But with a little bit of downtime, and having had time to really process, I should probably go ahead and give my account of the weekend.

As Chuck mentioned, I arrived in Statesville early afternoon on Saturday. It’s been four months now, and I still get butterflies every time I see him. Go figure.

Anyway.

We had lunch, and the plan was to head on up to Asheville, where it was hopefully a little cooler, and hang out for a while. We were worried about what we were gonna do for four, five hours…that’s the last time I’ll worry about how to fill extra time.

Four and a half hours of car trouble later (and surprisingly, I did not sunburn during this!), and we made it to Asheville in time to hit up Shellshock.

And of course, we realize that we don’t have the electrical tape I’d brought to cover my nipples anymore. So, I resign myself to play in bra and panties, and we keep on rockin’.

The first scene was short, and for me, it was incredibly intense. At this point, it had been four weeks since I had been able to play, so my pain tolerance was way, way down. On top of that, I had a lot of stress built up that needed to escape…and oh man, escape it did. I went completely non-verbal. I don’t even think I could make sounds, only gestures. He took me down, and we did some light aftercare on the couch.

As a side note, I love the way I feel about an hour after a good beating like that. The stress is gone, purged, drained out. The highest of the endorphin high is over, and I’m floating back down to earth. It’s such a calm place, even in the middle of a club. Everything makes perfect sense. Every emotion is pure. Every touch is warm, loving, affectionate.I feel so calm, centered, and at peace.

Anyway.

Chuck had his beating, which was incredibly fun to watch. Also incredibly fun, watching the marks he was left with progress. I think he’s enjoying that part, too.

The second scene we did was very…new to me. It wasn’t that Chuck did anything really differently, but something about my headspace at the time sent me directly into disassociation. I could hear the crack of the toys, but I didn’t feel them at all. It had started to worry me, and I was about to call him over to let him know I was disassociating and to be careful, when all of a sudden, a dragon tail hit broke through the haze.

And holy hell it hurt so good.

The floodgates opened up again, and for the life of me, I cannot put into words the emotions that were going through me at the time. It was a place I had never been before, and it’s a place I want to go back to.

The rest of the weekend, you’ve already read about from Chuck. For now, it’s already Wednesday and I dread having to pack my things and head back out to Durham in a few days. I’m starting to feel the first little bit of drop, but at least it’s not as bad as it usually is, because I’ve got my little family here to snuggle if I need them.