Pride Weekend, June 23-24


It was a full weekend. Rainbow everythings and making friends bleed, soggy weather and many new t-shirts, absent friends and finding long lost friends. The stew of life, as it occurs.

Arli came down from Vancouver early Saturday. This is the girl who sends me email along the lines of So, wanna come make me bleed? We're buds, and get together once or thrice a year for a bit of fun. Last time we played was up her way, and there was a bit of poly angst mixed in that she felt a bit guilty about [it wasn't her; it was a now-ex of hers who had the issues] but regardless, if her misplaced guilt makes her want to come down and pamper me with a pedicure, far be it from me to correct her.

We did a nice lunch Saturday and I took her to my favorite market to stock up for a nice dinner. Before cooking, she did her pedicure magic, and I ended up with a half hour nap in the recliner at the end, which is exactly the sort of relaxing she had had in mind for me. Very nice. Then dinner - grilled pork steaks, corn on the cob, cioppino, veggies, and we were both well nourished prior to heading down to the Wet Spot.

When we arrived and schmoozed a little it turned out that Boop wanted to assist, and we dragooned Kev into running the digital camera that Arli had brought with her. Arli got herself thoroughly pre hydrated while I enlisted Boop's and the DM's help in staking out our turf and setting up. My focus tonight was in making her bleed, always high on her list, but also in stretching her parameters - she hates bondage and I found a way to turn bleeding into bondage.

First of all, of course, was the warm-up. For warm-up tonight I started about 60mph with venipuncture. The first two sites I tried to access the veins blew, but I finally got a good hit on the back of her hand and drew up several vials and set them aside.

The entire rest of the scene only encompassed a dozen or so needles. I aimed them in a line across her body, all 18ga. First in the back of her wrist, then the side of her belly, down on the side of her boob, and the last one on her hip, in a diagonal criss cross, the same thing in reverse from the other side as well. I threaded the needles through with an 8' length of 25lb test monofilament each direction and duct taped the ends tightly to the OB/GYN table. In the middle of her sternum where the lines crossed I threaded one 23ga needle vertical in the skin, over the line crossing, and back in and out of the skin, to hold it in place. Across the middle of her body I put a needle on each hip and one somewhere in between the femoral crease and the labia on each side and did the same threading of monofilament through those four needles, taped tightly to the sides of the table. A couple of wraps of unneedled monofilament around her feet and ankles binding her to the stirrups and she was done.

Now, of course, it was time to bring out the neuro wheel, Wartenburg Wheel as it is technically known [and a picture of it here]. That nasty sharp little fucker is small enough to fit into all sorts of places, I found out. It is fun, of course, to run it over nipples, over the skin stretched over the steel of the needles, and the usual sort of stimulatory places. When you ever so lightly run it over eye lids, ear lobes, tongues, soft palate... the minimalist state of the bondage is not a question ... you will not squirm or move around when the insides of your cheeks and other sensitive areas are being so stimulated. It was fun. Then, of course, I changed gloves [actually I changed gloves probably a couple of dozen times through the evening] and lubed up and decided to see how much of a manually driven orgasm I could give her before she ripped the needles and monofilament out. I got pretty much the bulk of my size XL hands inside her and pounded away for a while and she did go fairly ballistic and pulled a couple of the needles a bit, but things didn't really get ga ga until later... when she thought it was over ... and I pulled out the squeeze bottle of lemon juice.

Damn. That woman can scream!!

Sigh. So, I snipped the ends of the monofilament and pulled each needle out and pulled the line out, and it turns out that the lemon juice had pretty well coated the line, and pulling 8' of it through the piercings pretty well hit every nerve ending she had, and - well, that woman can scream!!!! [I suppose about here is a 'smirking sigh' or something like that.] The lines out, we gathered together an escort of Kevin and Boop and some DMs and made our way through the crowd over to the shower room, where I pulled out those vials of blood I'd drawn out way back in our foreplay and I syringe-squirt-gunned it all over her. Oh, happy girl. She really likes that, and it's really a fun mess-making thing to do.

The evening wound down fairly quickly after we cleaned up and put away and did a bit more schmoozing. With the Pride stuff in the morning we headed on home, had a bite of pudding [I love to mix the banana flavor and the butterscotch flavor together... they make a nice little trailer-trashish dessert], and crashed. I gave her the futon in the living room and I'm jealous - my cat Littleone spent more time out there with Arli than she did with me, the one who opens cans for her!

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I lied when I said that the Pride stuff was in the morning. It may have been for the legions of drag queens applying foundation and shaving their legs, and for the dykes on bikes tuning up their machines and all the other annual stuff preparatory to the parade. We slept through til about about early parade time, and after breakfast drove on down to cruise the neighborhood around Volunteer Park. We got an almost-legal spot a block and a half from the park and walked up in the drizzle. The parade had apparently ended and we joined the thousands cruising the festival grounds.

This was the first year in several that I hadn't manned Al D's piercing tent in the festival. Al passed in February, and although his apprentice, Troy, is doing a fine job continuing his work [he's working at Slave to the Needle in Ballard now] I think he was wise to not get involved in everything that is involved in setting up an industry standard piercing parlor in a tent. It was always a labor of love, emphasis on the labor part. It was sad to reflect on not just Al, but on others with whom I've enjoyed these festivals who are no longer with us.

Arli and I walked in and threaded our way past the humongous lines at all the food vendors [well, the hot food vendors had lines; the people who thought they'd make their mint selling water or lemonade lost the weather crapshoot] and we started a methodical up one aisle and down the next aisle of the booths. My mission every year is to gather as many freebie pens and refrigerator magnets as possible. There is a very small amount of white showing on my fridge side and door and I figure two more years and I'll have it all covered. I also like using all those various colorful pens at work; a subtle little "I'll do it my way" in the workplace.

I ran into some of the people from Northwest Bears, the fellows who sponsored the 'Spring Thaw' men's event at the Wet Spot a month or so ago that was so much fun. I bought one of their caps - I have to like an organization of men who find that men of my stature and hairiness are attractive. I ran into a nurse I'd worked with years ago and her partner, and old lovers and friends and coworkers and lots of other folks. Had the chance to chat with Colonel Cammermeyer, a woman I've long admired. The folks from Ajaxx63 gave me a nice baseball cap when I bought a t-shirt from them. I've bought shirts from them often and, liking their line of product, I wrote a review of their web site for Janes Guide last year. Apparently they were quite pleasantly surprised by the review and the business it sent and the hat was a nice and unexpected thank you. I filled bag after bag with the freebies, along with a few things purchased as well. It was a good haul!

After an hour or two of this methodical meandering, we headed back to her car, and on back to my place. Five minutes of bag pack and Arli headed on back north to Vancouver, her mission in Seattle a fun success. We see each other once or twice a year and it's generally fun. This time it fed nicely into the stew of life in Pride Week, and life continues good.

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Addendum here - the scene described above in our piercing is as we did it. Consenting adults with many years of experience doing this, making assumed risks. If you read either a medical manual, or for that matter a "here's how to do play piercing" essay, you not find anything that says squirting lemon juice into the wounds is encouraged. I doubt if it says anywhere that pulling monofilament through a wound is a good idea. We do it because it makes our respective cunts wet/dicks hard, and we know and assume the risks. Please do not use this as a primer, kids. Don't get motorcycle instructions from Evil Knievel, don't get learn parlor tricks from The Jim Rose Sideshow, and don't pick up bright ideas from the things I chatter about here. Do not repeat what we do here. It will kill you.

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