April 27th

A couple weeks of full life and not writing makes for an intimidating task, to get caught up.

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon and I'll try getting muddling through, alternating paragraphs with doing site reviews and the Mariners on Fox Sports right across the room there.


In the Body Electric workshop I did in December I explored very cautiously taking steps to reclaim my ability to bottom on occasion. It's a very emotional and primal thing for me and not a step I take easily. A couple of weeks ago I took another risk filled step in this and enjoyed a session bottoming to a lovely lady I'll call Opium. She is exquisitely beautiful, and is the sort of person who instantly has every eye in the room on her - but she is as sweet and humble as a kitten. I was just chatting last night with her husband about it while watching her top a leatherwoman, and I told him that I thought she was the sort of nurturing top I needed in order to heal those old wounds. He understood - he knows what a jewel he has. I was quite grateful for the experience a couple weeks ago and will look forward to occasionally fitting into her schedule as I can. It is a very healthy and growing thing for me to do.

Oh, lessee here... yup, the 15th that week I got a call from Molly to meet her for ice cream and Thai and as always she is a too-brief burst of crimson-haired sunshine flittering through my life. Make sure you look at her latest journal entry - a collection of nude self portraits taken to break in her new studio space.


Beverley invited me to join her to inaugurate her new basement play space. We haven't played in too long, so I headed on up Friday the 18th. She had a dinner party that night and half a dozen couples stopped by, munched, gossiped, and played.

Beverley has been one of the most powerful masochists I've known for over a decade now. She calls me in to do simple brutality to her. I really hesitate to describe this, cuz there are some really nice folks who read this who want to play with me but are afraid I'm gonna suture their medulla oblongata or something, but trust me - I only do this shit with people who ask for it! Informed consent, remember? Otherwise I'm a soft chewy pussycat, teddy bear, whatever your image of gentle and cuddly is. Anyhow, After catching up with old friends who were in attendance and chowing down on a banquet table full of excellent munchies, she and I headed on down to the play space.

I started off with paddling, just to warm her touchas up. I showed her the respect due her tolerance, of course, by starting off about 50 mph instead of 0. Didn't want to insult her. Once she was good and red I had her get up on the swing. About 2'x3', upholstered plywood handing from four chains at waist level. I'd learned the hard way to be careful of her hands so I started by having her grip the front edge of the swing, and then I nailed a 21 gauge needle through the web between her ring and index finger on each hand into the plywood base. Bondage can be a very minimalist thing. That's also the point where her cursing started getting fairly ad hominem. Next up was a thick wad of needles in a pretty little sunburst circle over each shoulder. I started with 21 gauge, then 18 gauge, and finally 16 gauge, and made a tight little bundle of various colors. I then got out the mint flavored dental floss and cut two long lengths. I wound one tightly around and knotted it off over each bundle of needles and then stretched it back to tie off on the opposite ankle, up in basic hogtie position. If she jerks her right foot, her left shoulder needle bundle gets jerked.

That's when the tickling and toe-sucking started. And yes, she did take my name in vain very vituperatively.

The next day we slept in, and - after admiring her newly purple shoulders - we headed out to spend the afternoon wandering antique malls and in search of a supremely decadent mocha, which I was happy to imbibe. My luck held out - in a back corner of one of the antique malls on a bottom shelf lay a perfect condition Relaxicisor. If I remember right it was about twenty-five bucks, Canadian. The damn thing even has a Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval on it! Anyone out there who has one, drop me a line with whatever tips you may have, ok?

That Saturday evening was a party put on by the Rascals group in downtown Vancouver. Folks there were very accommodating to Beverley and I, helping us set up and lay out tarps and stuff. She had wanted me to shred her clothing with my knife, and even mused about what might happen if I were to slip a bit with the blade. That's just what I did - shred her clothes with my knife, fairly viciously, but halfway through I sat the knife down and pulled out a sterile scalpel. My knife is sharp. A scalpel is sharp. It's amazing the change in her eyes. I shredded a bit more of her clothes with the scalpel, then "accidentally" scratched down the surface of each breast a couple of times with it. It was just enough to barely see, but when she looked down it was indeed her own crimson she saw, and that was enough. I put the scalpel away and ripped the rest of the clothes off by hand, then put her into a chair, facing the rack, wearing only her high heels. I gave her water and made sure she was ready to go on, and then proceeded to make a nice pretty wad of needles on the upper chest on each side, just like the ones on her shoulders the night before. In earlier conversation, you see, she had mentioned meeting Fakir before, and how some day she would like to do a skin hook ritual. I wound the mint dental floss around each piercing on her chest and then put the lacings through a couple of rings hanging from the rack and tied them off together, so they floated freely between the rings. Then I stood her up, removed her chair, and whispered in her ears that I knew she was ready for this first taste of extreme play. She was very anxious, but closed her eyes and danced and danced and danced and 45 minutes later the dental floss finally broke, and I sat her back down. Whew! Gads, she was so high! It's a week later and I've had a brief note from her letting me know that it was wonderful and that she still hadn't finished processing the experience. Good stuff! She was magnificent!

Just as an aside for those of you who think I only do 'lazy top' playing, let me tell you that every single second, every frigging second that she was dancing I was poised two feet away, medic shears in my hand to cut her down with and ready on the edge to catch her body should she go out. Forty five minutes of that level of tension and physical anticipation used every calorie I had on board, and when she finally went off to the ladies room by herself I so plunked into a chair, limp.

Sunday I headed on into downtown Vancouver again to visit with Katt and Wolfe of Erotimania. We dinked around some, played with the dogs, and hit a craft fair that Aya and her wife were at. Small world - in the back basement of a community center, I ran into one of the women I had met in the Body Electric workshop in December who had most left an impression on me. She lives on an island on a farm, and had been in hiding doing a thesis, and just happened to wander into town that day. I'm looking forward to chatting with her again. Later in the day, after Katt laughed at me for yelling when I got my left earlobe gauged up to a 6ga, she turned around and did me the courtesy of doing a nude photo shoot of me. I'm working on those self image issues that one can get with the changes of age and weight. Here are some samples, all taken by Katt. 


That's Katt's favorite, and I like it a lot.

This next two are my favorites. She said she was looking to picture the godlike look found in Blake's paintings, and I think she found her vision well. I've never looked so world-weary, nor so good.

Later a large group descended on the Buddhist Vegetarian Chinese Restaurant. This place is amazing - I ordered baked quail and it looked like, tasted like, and had the texture of quail, but it is all 100% vegan. Shark fin soup, same same. And everything is so good we just about licked our platters and order more.

Driving home was no problem. Well, except that pulling into Customs at Blaine my driver's door window jumped the track. Once I was through Customs I jiggled it around and it's about 80% in place, except for being rotated about 17% off kilter. I wore my sweatshirt zipped the drive home.



Tuesday K came over - her wife C, my wonderful CPA, was off doing something and she helped me geek my computer a bit better. We installed a nice new optical mouse and everything USB related is now more orderly and betterer. Uh - K - love ya dear, but could you give me a call? Everything is better except the print queue will not print now.... My plan originally had been to dazzle her with my kitchen expertise in trade for her geeking, but unexpectedly the remodeling expert became available to start working on my kitchen tile just a day before, and we ended up with Rickshaw Chinese carryout. Compared to the meal I had planned it was like kissing your sister, but looking at it now a week later, the tile and beautiful new sink and all is worth a short disruption. I'd describe what the wood looked like under the old tile they tore up, but it would put you off your meal worse than my blood play does.


Wednesday after work found me driving out to East Bumfuckt Egypt again to Shawn's place. She is such an amazing woman, so in touch with her body, her urges, her pleasure, and so brave to continue to invite me to help her stretch her boundaries. She had not been caned before and asked me to bring mine. Once I blindfolded her I stared to describe the "cane-like items" in my case. The aluminum archery shaft, sans point. The apple switch. The yardstick. The spring loaded CB antenna and more. I tied her to a pillar by the hands, leaving her feet lots of room to try to get away. Heehee. You can run but you can't hide. I went through everything in the case and got her beautiful bum just toasty red, with a few welts just to keep reminding her for a week how we played. I had found a nasty little vibrator, about 5" long and 1 1/2" in diameter, but with 1/8" spikes up and down the entire length of it. It somehow tolerated a condom, and an inch or two of it inside didn't seem to bother her much, except of course when I turned it a bit. We went on to explore more of her passion for fisting, and it was incredible. She is slowly able to take the smaller of my two large hands to four fingers at full extension, and then to have me fold those four into a closed fist. Holding there, no pumping or anything but just flexing the smallest muscles more of a twitch than a conscious motion, can be wonderful for both of us. We found a new position this night, however, where she was able for a brief second to accept the thumb, and to accept me to the wrist, before we had to end. I'd been using the closest thing to hand for lube - a pump bottle of soap from the bathroom next door - and it wasn't the best stuff. I do believe she was peeing bubbles for the next few days. Next time, real lube, more time, more patience, and we are very close to what we've been working towards. Moreover, in pillow talk later, our talks are as intimate as our physical penetrations. She is becoming a very good friend.


There is no real pattern, by the way, to how I'm inserting these ==*== things.


Thursday, the 24th, is a marvelous way to end this retrospective. I took Omaha to the annual fund raising concert of Multi Faith Works [formerly the Multi Faith AIDS Alliance]. The diversity of the musical program itself was very representative of the concept and reality of Multi Faith. The Seattle Kokon Taiko ensemble gave a spirited and, well, loud performance that got everyone excited. Next up was the Bailadores de Bronce, a Mexican folkloric dance group, who had to put duct tape over the hobnails of their traditional shoes to save the fine wooden flooring at the Seattle First Baptist Church, where the concert was held. The most colorful group of the evening was the Mount Zion Baptist Church Inspirational Choir, which was truly inspirational. There were young, but many many of the choir were elderly, a cane in one hand and a purse in the other, being helped up the steps by the younger folks. I said colorful, and I mean that everyone wore the most resplendent happy colors imaginable. I was inspired to try to find something similar myself for 'dress up' occasions, since I try to avoid suit and tie. They sang strongly and well and as always I really enjoy spirited gospel music. Later was Tiferet, a Jewish group who did chant more than song, and just as with the other performers, they captured the audience. I loved watching the girl they had fiddling dancing - "smiling with her feet", I called it. The last group to perform is a new favorite of mine. I first saw them a month or two ago when I saw the Seattle Men's Chorus at Benaroya Hall. Captain Smartypants is a new favorite of mine. They sing doo-wop, they sing barbershop, and nearly everything they do leaves you laughing as well as keeping time. After the show I did tell their lowest singing bass that only my personal boundaries kept me from being his stalker, but that's another story.

Each of the widely different groups was introduced by an individual who volunteers with, or who has benefitted by, the various organizations under Multi Faith. It was an evening that brought me to a deep sense of pride in the diversity shown, and my own lack of understanding of why people would act differently than this in living their spiritual faith. I'll keep on thinking on it for a while, just to keep that spirit alive. Throughout the entire evening, it was a very different form of my Life Is Good affirmation, with no lube and no flesh slapping, but just people coming together, across boundaries, to help those who are hurting. A very worthy charity.

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