June 4th 2000
Today is the 30th anniversary of the day I came home from combat, June 4th 1970, surprisingly unwounded and undead. It seems worthy of a celebration. I think I'll put the chit in the bank, pull it out as a reason to do something nice for myself sometime soon.
So, last night at the Wet Spot Kevin and I finally got a chance to do the scene we've been promising ourselves for what must be a couple of months now. I promised him a nice mummification scene, and week after week we've just had one damn thing after another - illness, work schedules, whatever - interfere.
He came wearing these really cute leather shorts, but I didn't let that last long. After a few minutes of show and tell, each of us emptying out toy bags and stuff, I had him strip. The hardest part of the whole evening was deciding which sequence to apply the three things on his head. First the oxygen mask [sans oxygen] fit over his nose and mouth with one 1/2" hole right in front of his face, then the big soft headphones from the boombox, then the blindfold, all saran wrapped in place. The boombox was playing Mickey Hart's "Music to be Born By", a 70 minute trance piece built on a fetal heartbeat.
I wrapped each extremity, arms and legs, then began to wrap the torso. I'd already placed nipple clamps in place, so those were wrapped inside. Once everything was wrapped, and the arms/legs wrapped to the body, I had some help in placing him on the massage table. He was then wrapped in place to the table, and every little gap with exposure to the outside air was found and covered over. I used a couple rolls of saran wrap and one large roll of pallet wrap. I wonder if Costco knows how much they contribute to our kinkdom.
So, he was all wrapped in place, hearing only what I played for him, seeing nothing, breathing only when I let him. I turned off the hot overhead lights of the room we were in, sat back, and watched him do nothing for a while. Once I figured he had had a chance to settle in without any stimuli at all, I gave him a bit of water through his breathing hole, and then got out a blade and exposed his nards. I gave him a moment to experience the sensation of his whole body immobilized within the sauna of saran wrap, with a 4" circle of his family jewels suddenly out exposed to nature, cool fresh air, and me.
I broke out my clothespin bag, and gave him a row up the underside of the penis, a row all the way around the outside of the corona lip, and and then another row down the middle of the topside.
At this point a breath of air on the pins is overstimulation. You can well imagine what fingerflicks on the clothespins did. And then, of course, a hand held vibrator.
It's a damn shame he couldn't move or speak or see or anything. All I got was his dick getting really big and twitching really actively, along with a general sense that the saran wrap was shuddering and some sort of animistic noise was coming out of his breathing hole.
That's when I figured it was a good time to just grab the whole package and rip off all the pins in one or two good grabs.
The shudder and animal noises got really dramatic.
So I sat back down again for a while. Let things settle down. Cut and exposed a silver dollar sized area over each nipple. Watched things quietly. Gave him a few minutes.
And then I got out the lube. Dribbled it on his dick liberally and gloved up. While I was practicing all those fun strokes that I learned in the Body Electric workshop, I signalled and got another friend to add some subtle strokes on the nipples. He was real gentle, but apparently the wrap on top of the nipple clamps, over half an hour or so, had overstimulated the nipples, so we backed off that. I'd continued the dickplay all along, actually for a goodly while longer than it sounds recounting it here and right about then all of a sudden we peaked, and he spewed forth copiously.
I briefly gave him his moment, and then went right back to overstimulating his dick in that post-ejaculation-leave-me-alone-argh-I-can't-take-anymore-oh-god-thank-you -fuck-off-oh-yes-oh-no-oh-oh-OH moment. Hehehe.
And then left him to gather his wits and breath and stuff for a few minutes, and I began to cut him out, wrap him up, and rehydrate him. The whole thing had taken somewhere around 45 minutes to an hour, and he lost a lot of water, as you tend to do inside a mummified self-sauna. I'd had him pre-hydrate, but even so, the saran wrap came off very moist.
And it was fun. He was happy, I was happy. It's nice to see more and more boy-boy energies going on at the Spot, and fun of course to contribute to it.
It's a continuing wonder to me at age 50 - damn near 51, but who's counting.... - to have a best friend who is also a lover who is also a guy. Over most of my life I've had best friends who were women, or who were men, or who were lovers or who were whatever, but this is the first time I've had the combination that Kevin and I have, and I like it. It's comfortable, it just seems right, and I think we both benefit from it. And last night it was just downright fun.
Life is indeed good. Oh, yes indeedy.
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