June 16th

I knew, I knew, but once again best laid plans and all that, and we still had a ball.

Bridgett came in from Portland, for a play session. We try and still only average a date every year or so, but it tends to be bloody and fun every time. True, it's often weirder than tits on a duck, but such are the better things in life. And such was this visit. She had told me that she had a photo shoot and her back had to be unmarked, but I really wasn't clear on the details. We chatted on ICQ and email a couple of times and the basics we agreed on were that she would arrive overly hydrated so I could make her bleed a lot, and that she would bring her libido. I wasn't certain if she was travelling alone or with an entourage, and told her I had room for her, but not for a group. She ended up with a boyfriend and a girlfriend [the lovely young lady I called PeasantGirl in my after-ArtBound II write-up].

[Interjection here for those of you who haven't learned this painful lesson yet. I began this journal entry a day ago and had half a dozen paragraphs written beyond this point, but hadn't 'saved' the content. I hit the wrong button. It closed the program and now I'm back here starting over again.]

Anyhow, starting this narrative again, Bridgett arrived at the Wet Spot not long after I did, and stood out like a ruby amongst the zircons. Twelve foot tall - or so she seemed - statuesquely naked, wearing only calf length boots and a row of about 8 stainless steel rings down each side of her back in the general contours of a corset, with PeasantGirl lacing them carefully snugger with a half inch ribbon.

This was quite a vision, and I had to immediately start replanning what I had in mind to do with her.

What I had had in mind, originally, was to do a form of bondage to the OB/GYN table involving large bore needles, monofilament fishing line, duct tape, and a lot of fisting lube ... and hold that thought, cuz Arli is coming into town next week from Vancouver. For right now, however, we experimented with a bit of it, stymied by the weird juxtapositions necessitated by the rings in her back. She couldn't lay back, and we had to play around and find a sitting position that presented pierceable flesh to me and also that she could more or less comfortably maintain. I had changed into surgical scrubs, with a surgical mask and my little half reading glasses down on my nose, just for a bit of visual mindfucke.

I used some of the line, and experimented with a bit of the lacing, but not to any large degree. I put an 18ga needle through each upper chest and threaded the monofilament line through and tying it off around her body - it is really quite simple and effective bondage. Not much of that would really work, however, so we ended up making beautiful Endorphin ButtonsTM on her breasts. She has a lot of breast to pierce, so I pierced a lot of breast. Like each time - and it's what she and I both love about it - she keeps teetering on the edge of shock, between shock and ecstasy, dipping into shockish blanching and back into the glow of endorphin rush. I kept watching for "it's time to back off now" and she kept saying "...just a few more needles...". Several times when her eyes were glazing over and she started teetering, I had her look up and PeasantGirl flashed her cute little tits at her from across the room and Bridgett looked revitalized. After some pretty mandala patterns up on the top plane of her tits I arranged several needles through her nipples in every direction, including an 18ga 1" straight into the middle of each one. Even then she wanted a few more so I did a little crosshatched ladder pattern up the inside of her upper thighs.

With needles you only want to go half as far as you think you should go, because pulling them out will take you the rest of the way. She didn't really bleed that much with the sharps coming out, although each one was a bit of a mini-trauma in itself. I more or less take them back out in the order they were inserted ... well, actually, no - I tend to take them back out in the reverse order of severity, so it will end off on a powerful note. All of them out and a few squirts of isopropyl to surface cleanse - and stimulate - and I got to do a little finger painting.

By this time we had relocated to the top of one of the OB/GYN tables with her long legs straddling it, and we got out a bottle of her favorite lube for capitalizing on the endorphins with a bit of fisting. I got going for a bit, but my hands were just too damn big. I turned her wonderful pussy over to her guy [she actually calls him The Fuzzy One in her journal] who not only has smaller hands but is much more familiar with her in's and out's. Damn, but it was fun watching them go to it. He got to a point of alternating hands all the way out and all the way back in, left and right and left and hot damn!

Finally we gathered a couple of friendly DMs to help escort our entire party through the crowd ["Excuse me, hazardous materials coming through, pardon me, mobile hazmattie girl, excuse me..."] to the showers, where the four of us - Bridgett, Fuzzy, PeasantGirl, and myself - showered off the blood and lube and sweat and tears and started our cooling off. What was incredible to me was that we had gone into the room around 10pm and in what seemed like a very short time, we got into the showers at about 130am. Gads.

It was a fun and exhausting evening, and I'm afraid I wasn't as social with Dragon Lady and Kevin and Panther and Jane and all the other friends there as they deserve - you kinda go into a bubble when you're in that sort of scene. Periodically we had closed the doors for a second and snapped a quickie picture of our work, so hopefully soon I'll be able to add to my collection of memory-pix... reminding me once more that life is good.

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