Some More
Kaya once said “Anytime things start to go wonky, the best cure is some pain and some orgasms and some hard words from the Man.”
And, yeah, I’m not sure if truer words have ever been spoken.
Things here haven’t exactly been wonky in the usual sense. No major problems or rough spots. As I said the other day, we’ve been coasting along. Smooth sailing. But that, on occasion, is it’s own form of wonkiness. You know? We submissive masochistic types sometimes need someone to skip a rock across the smooth waters of our lives. Not necessarily a tsunami or anything. Just a few ripples.
I got ripples this weekend at the monthly play party.
Nothing major. Taylor cranked up a violet wand with the attachment that makes the tingles come from his hands instead of an implement and zapped and zinged me to distraction. No major pain, just a good long session of electric bee stings to my more sensitive bits. I love the violet wand so I was coasting along pretty good right up until he decided to use his mouth.
Yeah.
I have issues with receiving oral sex to begin with. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. But from my dominant it always feels slightly weird.
In PUBLIC? With occasional zaps coming from his mouth? It was major mind fuckery.
He progressed to a hand spanking on my poor, tender ass - which has next to no tolerance for it these days since we normally work my back. (Intentional, btw, because he got a little tired of having to work so hard to make me cry. Tender ass means less work for him) And then on to some face slaps and hair pulling.
All of which had me leaking tears and chattering my teeth. The pain, the mind fuckery, the audience, the arousal it so kills me to have seen by others…
I was staring at him with huge, tear filled, miserable eyes.
And THAT led to being dragged to a spare bedroom where he promptly informed me as he pulled out his dick and I tried to gobble it down that he didn’t WANT me to suck it, he wanted my tears on it.
The rubbing of said dick over my tear streaked face and eyes led to a fast, furious fucking which led to a slightly retarded puss puss walking around the party the rest of the night.
I don’t often get to that stupid space.
I know kaya’s Master put a few needles in my breasts. I know numerous folks were swatting and rubbing my poor, hot behind. I know I talked to people. But hell if any of it seems to make any sense. (And I know I never said goodbye to kaya nor did I thank her Dude for the needles and I feel like a louse!)
In fact, I was quite dropsy all day yesterday; alternating between crabby and weepy and grinning stupidly. I slept a lot and had a bad headache. My nipples are a wreck from the wand and my butt is bruised and I’m quite amazed that what seemed such a simple scene effected me so much.
Not that I’m complaining, of course.
Taylor and I have both been pretty happily humming along in our proper headspaces for two days and that’s always a good thing. 
Not that we fall out of our places often but…
The humming…
The steady buzz of things being exactly, perfectly, phenomenally RIGHT is so, so cool.
And since I’d like to keep it that way it’s off to the tub for me to get all dolled and softened up and, perhaps, if I’m lucky, tempt him into more, more, more.
More pain. More orgasms. More hard words from the Man.
Cuz…
Yeah.
I’m greedy that way.
