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So last night I went to a play piercing workshop. This was my first time as a needle top. Unsurprisingly, I loved it. I'm gonna cut for some details: ( Read more... )
It was a wonderful experience. The guy teaching the workshop, Elwood, is super fun and also really really knows what he's doing. It was a small workshop, five couples in a friend's house, so nice and intimate and cozy. Playing with blood and sharp things has many ways to go bad, and that was all covered and allowed everything to feel super safe. My bottom was communicative about his boundaries, he wanted to go pretty much as far as I wanted to but not beyond so neither of us was left with a 'that's it?' feeling, and he made awesome faces both hurty and grinning.
And today I feel more awake and alive than I have in a bit. I know I tend to be super cyclic with many things, and for the last while I've been on the down part of a cycle with this. Now I think it's time for some of it again. And you know what? It's about time. One of the things about this type of play is that I find it fun. When it comes right down to it, I'm a very serious person. I can enjoy and approve of many things, but I don't play a lot. This is one of my ways of playing. There's a fluidity of existence to negotiating these roles, to diving into our emotional and physical selves and seeing how they work.
I also really get off on hurting people. I use the term 'get off' advisedly -- it's not an overtly sexual thing by any means (I don't want to sleep with my bottom, though I do wanna see about doing other evil things to him like ( Read more... )) but I have a very emotionally satisfied or content feeling after something like this-- something where it's consensual, where no one has been harmed, where we both enjoyed it, and both people go home purring but pain has been involved.
Having said that, I've been fighting with top drop today. No matter how much it was all good, every once in awhile part of my mind pops up and says, 'you did what to him? Dude, you can't do that to people'.
I wonder if that's the part of my brain that says girls can't be farmers?
I had also forgotten just how much I liked that particular friend. Sigh.
It was a wonderful experience. The guy teaching the workshop, Elwood, is super fun and also really really knows what he's doing. It was a small workshop, five couples in a friend's house, so nice and intimate and cozy. Playing with blood and sharp things has many ways to go bad, and that was all covered and allowed everything to feel super safe. My bottom was communicative about his boundaries, he wanted to go pretty much as far as I wanted to but not beyond so neither of us was left with a 'that's it?' feeling, and he made awesome faces both hurty and grinning.
And today I feel more awake and alive than I have in a bit. I know I tend to be super cyclic with many things, and for the last while I've been on the down part of a cycle with this. Now I think it's time for some of it again. And you know what? It's about time. One of the things about this type of play is that I find it fun. When it comes right down to it, I'm a very serious person. I can enjoy and approve of many things, but I don't play a lot. This is one of my ways of playing. There's a fluidity of existence to negotiating these roles, to diving into our emotional and physical selves and seeing how they work.
I also really get off on hurting people. I use the term 'get off' advisedly -- it's not an overtly sexual thing by any means (I don't want to sleep with my bottom, though I do wanna see about doing other evil things to him like ( Read more... )) but I have a very emotionally satisfied or content feeling after something like this-- something where it's consensual, where no one has been harmed, where we both enjoyed it, and both people go home purring but pain has been involved.
Having said that, I've been fighting with top drop today. No matter how much it was all good, every once in awhile part of my mind pops up and says, 'you did what to him? Dude, you can't do that to people'.
I wonder if that's the part of my brain that says girls can't be farmers?
I had also forgotten just how much I liked that particular friend. Sigh.
