March 23rd-25th

Road trips! Love 'em.

Beverly invited me up to Vancouver for the weekend. Two separate play parties, two different venues, and lots of time to have fun together. I juggled my work schedule, and - coming from working nights - got off around 3am so that I could pack, nap, and be on the road early. I still ended up not getting away til noonish, closer to 1pm. That wouldn't have been a problem except for two things ... 50 skadzillion other assholes on the road and Canadian Customs. I was in bumper to bumper stop and go traffic for frigginever, from North Seattle up to the far side of Marysville. Mapquest tells me it's only about 25 miles, but if you move slow as I did it seems like the Bataan march. I did my usual just short of the border - pulled over a mile or so away, pulled a plain sweater over my NCSF tshirt and pulled on an EMT baseball cap. Wearing a fire department shirt or hat or jacket is a long time tried and true way of getting along with Officer Friendly when travelling. This time, to no avail. When called into the Customs office I showed my ID, reassured them that although I had a Washington State Concealed Pistol Permit in my wallet that I didn't cross international borders with a pistol, and watched through the windows as two latex-gloved uniforms went through everything I own. Each item of each bag was removed and examined. This included sutures, hundreds of play piercing needles, whips, canes, garden weasel, surgical instruments, latex gloves, sharps containers, and tons more. You can put a lot of kinkdom in the trunk of an Oldsmobile. It was actually fairly fun watching the expression on their faces as they opened my cane case and pulled out apple switches, an aluminum arrow, spring loaded CB antenna, and more. Once they packed everything back in the cases and refilled the trunk the agent came back indoors and handed me my keys. His comment: "You have a lot of weird stuff there sir. To each his own. Have a nice trip."

I arrived at Beverly's house, quite near the border, shortly after, following her good directions. She has a lovely home, very pink, very girl. I thoroughly enjoyed visiting and enjoyed her company very much - she was a marvelous hostess - but if I was to live there I'd have to import about 2000 panels of knotty pine walling, and replace all the lovely very pink items which are all so in abundance with some hanging Navaho blankets, a shelf full of my Louis Lamour collection, and several nicely framed pictures of people hanging from bloody skin hooks naked. But that's me. Her house is perfect for her. Beverly is a woman of class; quite cultured, elegantly poised, and always coifed and dressed perfectly. I'm quite grateful that she has such delightful low tastes that include someone like me.

The Friday night party was a fund raiser, held at what looked to be a community center or fraternal hall, part of the effort to create a permanent play space in Vancouver to replace the now gone Purgatory. Half the floor was seats and tables, the other half filled with half a dozen play stations and a bit more play furniture up on the stage. Beverly and I had been planning this evening's play for some time. She gets a lot of pleasure from the planning and anticipation of upcoming scenes, and I gotta admit I got into that as well. We had been discussing moving a bit beyond the level of blood play we'd done a few months ago when she had been down. She changed from her travelling outfit to a blouse and jeans and I put her up against a flogging rack. Just to insert a True Confession here, I admit that I [and I suspect she] wanted to show off a bit, before these folks most of whom I didn't know. I started off at the speed limit, with a short bullwhip and two hunting knives. The knives were exquisitely sharp and each has a blade curving to a very acute point. The bullwhip will fillet a buttocks or breast quicker than the knives. I began whipping her, and then alternating that with shredding her blouse and jeans with the knives so the whip could caress closer to bare skin, and periodically I would suddenly throw in some breath control holding her nose closed and sucking the air out of her lungs. Early on in the entire process I was holding her up against the rack with a knee while flashing a hunting knife in each hand. She shows terror quite well, and it makes both of us hot and wet when she does. I took my eyes off of what I was doing long enough to look her in the eyes, and suddenly realized that I had impaled the back of my right hand on the knife in my left hand. Deep. As so often happens, I had once again drawn first blood on myself when I was intending to draw someone else's blood - maybe I should just do a planned blood sacrifice to start. Anyhow, I flagged Dragon down, our host of the evening and someone who has basic first aid training, and got my would covered, and sat the offending knife clearly aside so I wouldn't use it again on anyone else. I managed to continue the clothes shredding/breath control/bullwhipping without really losing the rhythm of the scene too much, and continued on til she was naked, clothes in rags, and had a curved line knife-scratched noticeably in her skin, from the outer edge of one collar bone down curving roundly above the tops of her breasts and up to meet the outer edge of the other collar bone. Still playing a tad bit for the attentive audience [mea culpa - I know it isn't really PC, but I should be able to be honest in my own journal], I looked at her and asked her, "So, are you warmed up yet?" Hehehehehe. Indeed, that had just been the hi-how-are-ya-wanna-fool-around part of our evening.

We both rehydrated and pottied, I strengthened the bandage on the back of my right hand, and while Beverly went to put on a little teddy to wear for the next portion of our planned scene, I went up on the brightly lit stage and started setting up. There was a massage table there and on a little table I pulled over I lay out my supplies ... a bag of multicolored sequins, suturing equipment, half a dozen packets of various sterile sutures, my wartenburg wheel, sharps container and alcohol spritzer, dental floss, piercing needles.

I had the kind assistance of Arli [the one who likes to entice me up to play with her in Vancouver with notes like "Would you like to make me bleed?"] and another friend, a lovely blond I'll call Florence [who has been a friend dating back to the days of Kinky Couples, but we've never played. We did discuss remedying this]. They helped Beverly up onto the table, and held her hands and stuff to give tactile support. Seated at her feet was another lady, one of the DMs who had been helpful when I was gathering equipment, and who obviously took her duties quite seriously - she wanted to see every bit of what was coming!

As my first step, I decided to immobilize Beverly a bit, so I did a form of bondage that was simple yet effective. I took four needles and put one through each breast behind the nipple, and one through each outer labia lip, and then connected them all together with lengths of dental floss, including from one nipple up and around behind her neck and back down to the other nipple. I think the labial piercings would have been enough, as the needles poked into her inner thighs if she moved at all. I'm sure any flexing of her head and neck tensed the floss to her nipples, and in general staying immobile became the smartest thing. Along with the piercing bondage I recommended she just turn her body's ability to move 'off', and channel all her anxiety, motion, and pain out the hand Arli was holding. All of which was quite needed and helpful, because what she had asked for, and what we had planned for back and forth in email for weeks, was to give her a necklace of sequins covering her upper chest above her low-cut gown. She wanted to go out to dinner afterwards wearing her new necklace for polite society to admire. For warm up, I pulled out the wartenburg wheel and used it body-wide. Nipples, labia, clit, eye-lids, soft palate, tongue... it is a focusing play, stimulating and invokes both pleasure and terror. A happy thing. Once I started the suturing she frequently needed the hand holding that Arli and Flo were helping with. I followed the line I'd cut with the hunting knife earlier, starting from the left collarbone down, across, and back up the other side. I used about four packets of sutures, with half a dozen stitches from each packet. The suturing wasn't that bad, although the needles dulled every successive time into and out of the flesh. The roughest part - well, speaking for me, not Beverly - was threading the damned sequins onto the needle in between each stitch. Those suckers are little, hard to handle in latex gloves, and the hole in the middle are tiny. She had mailed me an envelope full of some to practice with and it was still a difficult task. The entire process of suture, sequins, suture, sequins, suture, sequins, suture, sequins, suture, knot, new suture, sequins, etc, all added up to an hour or more - it was truly timeless and my back was aching like a sonuvabitch from leaning over the table. Beverly was truly in in la la land and it was a beautiful thing to watch. I removed the 'bondage' piercings and dental floss and we all gradually brought Beverly back somewhere close to the present world as we cleaned up, hydrated her, got her back on her feet and moved through the denouement portion of the evening.

One of the things I'd been looking forward to in this trip was meeting Katt and Wolfe of Erotimania, a hot site based in Vancouver. We've exchanged notes off and on for a year or two, and they have had a standing invitation to come down and visit us at the Wet Spot from both Jane and myself. After Beverly took off to the powder room I introduced myself to Wolfe and Katt, and had a chance to have a nice chat with Wolfe and his secondary Kitty while Katt was playing with her girl friend. Nice folks, every bit as cute as they appear online [although Katt looked about 7' tall, where her images appear shorter]. Right here, in front of the world and all, I do want to reissue a public invite for them and whichever constellation of their partners works on a given day to come on down and see how we party in Seattle. They're our kinda folks.

Leaving the lovely Katt still playing her heart out, and her very cute boyfriend looking on lovingly, Beverly [now dressed up nicely but with her new sequin 'necklace' quite visible above her breasts], Arli, and I headed out to the Gourmet Castle Chinese restaurant, across the street from the Atrium Hotel in downtown Vancouver. It's an old favorite place of mine dating to when we used to stay at the Atrium while on trips to play at the now defunct Purgatory. One of the only places around open til 3am or so, I've always enjoyed the atmosphere they have after midnight. In my mind, it appears to be primarily Asian gang bangers [dressed wonderfully trendy and well, metallic lumps noticed under many of the shirts or jackets at the waistline, and everyone has a cell phone out]. Many of my better homemade nipple clamps have been made from Gourmet Castle chopsticks. We had a nice meal, and once Beverly and I got back to her house I removed the sutures and sequins and we hit the sack. It had been one long day and Peter was snoring before the cats got used to us being back.

Saturday we had a mid-day excursion to wander the antique shops of Beverly's suburb, where I found a nice vibrator [an antique Bakelite Vibra-Queen model from Eaton's of Canada, I found a description here but do note that I don't know the folks advertising them on that site]. Saturday evening was much lower stress than Friday. We were going to the party at a different space with different hosts [please don't get me started on the fetish community politics in Vancouver; I'm not going there]. Where Friday had been largely pokey things, the plan for Saturday night was a more leisurely floggy things. Of course, when we stepped up to the flogging frame it was again sort of a zero to 60 in ten seconds. I spent about one, maybe two minutes on the nice light warm-up toys and soon found myself in overdrive. The scene didn't really go on all that long, but it was meaty, and ended when I dropped the whips and took her down to the floor in a breath control embrace. After recovery we wandered a bit to see things in the various rooms and floors, then ended up on the ground floor sofa watching Arli being singletailed while Katt and two girlfriends were playing on the far side of the room. It's a decadent pleasure to lay back, relax, and watch the sorts of fun that go on at a play party.

First thing in the morning Sunday Beverly fixed me a fine breakfast and I said my good-byes and headed on south back towards Seattle. Continuing the expectation reversal just like the drive up on Friday US Customs passed me right on through with a smile, and I drove on home on a beautiful day. Pleasant memories of good friends in Canada and listening to a nice long [but losing] Mariners game. I got home mid afternoon and checked in with Omaha, Nia, and several other ICQ friends. I'd wandered the net some at Beverly's but hadn't been able to check email since Friday morning and you have to understand this to truly understand the feeling. I did some catching up and showered and changed clothes. In the early evening I headed on down to pick up Omaha for our date at the every-month-or-so Wet Spot Bondage Is The Point party.

About a month or so ago Omaha and I had planned a specific scene for the Bondage Party, and we had to cancel due to illness. Our plans here were to pick up in stride the scene and it went well. She was dressed loverly - as long as she wore it - and we fairly quickly got right into things. Nia and her date for the evening sat in to observe, which was a happy thing as I think it was her first up close and personal with piercings. In the Messy Room at the Wet Spot we had arranged for a framework called the butterfly frame. It is a standing rectangle of wood about 6' on a side, with cup hooks spaced out on the inside of the sides and top. With Omaha standing in the middle in a basic anatomical position, I slowly put needles through the skin of her outer profile; arms, legs, even one through the finger-webbing of each hand. As I put each needle in I cut a length of shiny silver Mylar ribbon and tied the needle off to a cup hook. Once the basic outline was done I stood back, considered the aesthetics of it, and then started putting in a few crossing pieces - left breast to upper right frame, right labia laced to the left side hook and suchlike. Omaha was wonderful, as she always is when we begin to do blood sports.I was quite impressed with Nia as she sat strong despite being quite challenged [I think it was the labia piercings and the dripping blood that did it for her]. Once Omaha was well spider-webbed into place, silver Mylar stretching in every direction and in a bondage of fear more than true immobility, I went out and gathered an appreciative audience for her. Not that she's any sort of an exhibitionist....

After the oohs and ahhs and admiring warm fuzzies I got out the industrial strength vibrator that Omaha just happened to have in her bag, kneeled down at her feet, and followed her exacting directions of where/how to place it. When we first started planning this scene Georgette had mentioned how noise control would be important given the sedate nature of bondage. Anyone who was at the party some months ago when I saran wrapped Omaha to a rack and applied both butt plug and my Hitachi knows that when she explodes, she explodes loudly and for a while. This is a woman who gets every possible bit of mileage out of her orgasms. Once she hit nirvana I was very impressed with her self control this time. It still went on for quite a while, but she didn't raise her decibel level very much at all. I glanced over at Nia, and she was showing rapt attention, focused on Omaha. Much as I loved being there and contributing, I gotta admit I was glad when I was finally able to move my sore knees off of the cement floor. As she caught her breath, I scissored the ribbon all around and released her and then deneedled her, and we went into shower and clean up mode.

We spent some time schmoozing around with friends after we had the room and her body returned to some semblance of normal, and eventually I returned her down to her hubby and daughter, and my long and wonderful weekend crept to an end.

Here after the fact, I've spent nearly as much time typing up my remembrances as I did having them. It was quite a time, so many different flavors, so many different friends, so many different places, and every single bit of it reminding me how good life really is. I do love my road trips.

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