So, it’s been a while, ladies and gents. But we do finally have another comic 🙂
Aaaaand this is why we don’t give Abi a pen and paper at 3am.
So, as you many have gathered, I spent Saturday night at a kink event. It was a very tame event in the scheme of things with a few play areas and more of a emphasis on dress and atmosphere than actual action. Now, kink is still a fairly new thing for me. This was maybe the 8th event I’ve been to, give or take a few, and at each event I go to, I make a point of trying to push my boundaries. I started off as a VERY coy, very reserved religious girl and since then, I’ve been able to use kink and the fetish lifestyle as a way to empower myself. I’ve been able to grow from my experiences and do a lot of learning – about both the world around me and the inner workings of my own mind.
Now, as mentioned, I have nerve issues. I have hypersensitive nerves to be precise. Do you ever get the horrible sensitive patches of skin when you get sick? What about sunburn? When you have a burn, touching the skin is a very, very delicate procedure. For me, I have good days and bad days. Some days I’m more or less like everyone else. On my bad days, however, the simple sensation of clothing is enough to hurt. If manthing were to lovingly stroke my arm more than three times in the same spot, it causes physical pain. A gentle bump, a change of temperature or even ongoing pressure like leaning on one’s hand can be enough to cause trouble.
This raises a big question: How does one manage these nerve issues when you’re kinky as hell?
One of the things that got me thinking last night was that my nerve issues mean that I’m pretty different to most people and it’s a lot more pronounced in the kink scene, especially when a lot of ‘play’ involves setting nerves off with various sensations.
While last night was a wonderful experience, at one point I ended up getting the business end of manthing’s riding crop across my back side. Now, this in itself was a novel experience as it’s the first time I’ve bared my bottom to a room full of strangers. It was by no means a “show and tell” event – everyone was going about their own business – but there were a handful of people in the room. Some would unabashedly stare at the unfolding scene and others would look over from their conversation with varying degrees of amusement and curiosity before going back to their discussion. I’m rather self conscious, so having strangers analyse my bare cheeks (as I’m convinced that is what they were doing!) is a bit of a terrifying prospect. However, the sharp impact of a riding crop makes for a fantastic distraction from this line of thought.
Now, being my horrible cheeky self, I wriggled my bum. I do that when I’m pleased. Kind of like a little bit of a tail wag and a grin. Unfortunately this time it was poorly timed on my part and meant that manthing’s swing of the crop landed outside of his target zone. As a matter of fact, I was the unwilling recipient of leather right to the… well, the butt hole. For a brief moment, it felt like Satan himself had violated me. I squealed like a stuck pig and clutched my bum. Once manthing worked out what had happened, he (and the people around us) laughed. I was laughing albeit in a “oh god, did that just happen?” way.
There was a woman sitting next to the chair I was leaning over, highly entertained by all of this. When I leaned back over the chair to submit myself to another round of buttock-beating, this time without the assault of my chocolate starfish, I had a playful bitch about manthing being more gentle this time. Now, he knew well that I was merely poking fun at the situation and smiled. However, the woman next to me responded with “Just bend over and take it already! Stop complaining!”
In hindsight, I’m sure she was only trying to do the same – make light of the events that had unfolded. To put it bluntly, shit happens and it’s a real test of character as to how you deal with an accident like this one. I wasn’t badly hurt or bleeding, I wasn’t in tears. I was just very self conscious and had my pride rather battered. When I heard her comment, a thought occurred to me: These people don’t know about my nerve issues. They probably think I’m a complete bitch and can’t handle even light pain.
From that moment, the fun stopped. I immediately felt like shit. Manthing and I stopped playing and, though I was still smiling and laughing, internally I felt awful. Like I was some kind of fake for having put on that little impromptu display. I sat back down in my chair and reserved myself to quietly watching the faces and actions of other people in the room like I could somehow gauge their thoughts of me from what I could see. The woman that had made the comment got up and walked off without a second thought. It was an offhand remark that was of no more consequence than that friendly nod she made to a familiar face as she walked off down the stairs.
So many thoughts flooded my head. What’s the point of even playing with manthing if my nerves cause me so much trouble? Surely he can’t be having any fun. How can I engage in any impact play if this is the result? How on earth can I then handle needle play? It doesn’t make sense. Has this issue been affecting my relationship with manthing this whole time? I feel like shit because of all of this. Surely I have to deserve the feeling, right? How will I ever be able to play with someone outside manthing? Would anyone even be willing to understand my issues?
I’d be too much work.
So, I sat in the corner and went through what was bothering me. For one, manthing wouldn’t play with me in the first place if he didn’t get enjoyment out of it. Yes, he has to be careful and yes, I do have some limitations that vary from day to day. But this has never made him go “No, I don’t want to do this with you.” I trust him enough that if something like that came up, he’d talk to me about it.
Needle play? Impact play? Any kind of kink activity that involves stimulating nerves needs to be approached differently with me. I can look at this issue one of two ways. On one hand I can adopt the “Life and everything sucks” attitude where I look at how my condition impacts me negatively – like only being able to take so many floggings, or having areas that make me cry and others I can barely feel. OR, I can be a champion and look at things this way:
I’m different. I am fun. If you learn about my nerves, you can have me utterly melting with a single nail to a nerve line. If you take the time to appreciate and learn how different I am, we can both have SO much fun! I have a nerve between my legs that, when hit, makes my entire right leg twitch. It’s hilarious and enough to drive me nuts in a good way.
I’m the one being hard on myself here. Frankly, the opinions of the people in the room don’t count for shit. I’m not in a relationship with them. They have NO impact on my life at the moment and since they didn’t even take the time to say hi or ask my name, they can go and rotate. The woman that made the remark doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know how amazing I am. She will likely never know how fantastic and incredible my body is because I’m so different. Balls to her. All the balls. Big, sweaty, hairy ones on her forehead.
The same thing goes for potential play partners. I won’t have time for anyone that won’t spend a while learning about me and the way I function. If they don’t want to learn, then that’s it. I have no obligation whatsoever to play with anyone I don’t feel safe or comfortable with and, in this situation safety involves knowing ME. It’s about more than just being able to swing a crop. It’s about developing a connection with your play partner and making sure ALL parties involved are having fun.
Now, thanks to a weather change here, I feel awful. I’ve been hit by a truck at some point today and due to the lack of sleep, my painkillers are making me feel pretty close to drunk so I’m not really certain how articulate I am right now, or whether anything I’ve said makes sense. Point is, I feel good about myself and I managed to put down an entire blog post today.
Yay me 😀
This weekend was undeniably a big one.
I had actually intended on starting my weekly video blog update this past Friday, but commission work kept me busy during the day and then a pain flare up kept me busy at night.
I started the weekend very early by my standards. I was up at eight with a brush in hand for some awesome costume make-up for a friend that was cosplaying at an event (I do face painting and body art as a bit of a hobby), then moved onto our monthly Rogue Trader game. I play a sadistic, egotistical princeling (think Russian mafia) with a sharp temper. In our first session, I shot one of our player characters for being an unsanctioned psyker. This session, I threatened to shoot my pilot for scratching the hull of my grand ship. My new ruling is that for every one million thrones of damage they do, my character takes a pound of flesh from them. It’s fair 😛
I always look forward to our gaming sessions. It’s a little slice of escapism for me. For one day a month, I get to become someone completely different in a universe entirely unlike our own, where my fate is decided by wit, charm and the roll of a dice. It’s also pretty much the only social event I attend regularly these days – mostly because it’s in my own house. I get to see half a dozen friends of mine and we all spend several hours together while cracking really god-awful jokes, taking jibes at each other’s parents and playing a volatile game of ‘Guess Who’ when it comes to strange and offensive smells in the room.
That night, manthing and myself went to a nifty party along with another couple. Naturally, it was along the fetish side of things, but was very tame and generally very fun. I love an excuse to get dressed up and this particular event allowed me to rock a floor-length velvet dress, a filigree metal masquerade mask and a very pretty leather collar I made myself. I always find myself dressed very formally (along with manthing who looks utterly delicious in a frock coat with his hair out – think the vampire Lestat, but less waifish) whereas most of the other attendees are clad in PVC, leather or not much at all. I am a very big fan of the amount of corsets I saw on the night, along with the Jack the Ripper burlesque act. I hit the stage of lethargy around 11pm and cracked a can of my vice – purple Mother energy drink – which propped me up for another few hours. We ended up getting home about 3am, thoroughly pleased and exhausted and eventually tumbled into bed and slept.
The rest of the weekend was spent looking at a new car which I will hear about later this week. I tried to go over and help out at a working bee, but I just entirely ran out of spoons and crashed out the moment I walked through the door.
One of the things that got me thinking last night was that my nerve issues mean that I’m pretty different to most people and it’s a lot more pronounced in the kink scene, especially when a lot of ‘play’ involves setting nerves off with various sensations. I have severely hypersensitive nerves and will explain further in my next blog post. Right now, I’m completely exhausted so I’ll put down my thoughts tomorrow when I’m running on more than three brain cells.
Hope you all had fantastic weekends!