I went to a small private "wine and rope" party last night which turned out to be exactly what I needed - I'd forgotten quite how much I'd missed just relaxing in kinky company and being able to chat normally without having to watch over my shoulder for who is listening and might have a problem with it. And it was the normality of the situation that was particularly pleasing. We talked a little about this over the evening, discussing our personal backgrounds, including religious leanings, and the different reactions we've had from friends and family on "coming out." One woman admitted that a friend had told her she was fine with the kink but now concerned that she was going to hell. Fortunately I haven't suffered from that reaction, but I do keep a lid on my activities when not in purely kinky company. Aside from the blog, it's not something I'm interested in getting into in any detail outside BDSM circles (because explaining ones passions can all too often end up feeling like you are justifying them), excepting the odd throwaway comment when in mixed company to remind those assembled that not everyone wants the same things out of life.
Aside from feeling relaxed and able to lean back with a glass of wine and discuss future rope performance with Ringmaster (and find out that he hates that nickname - though others, myself included, consider it apt) I was also able to get a feel for which bits of play I'm currently interested in having had something of a sea-change in my sexuality. I've been concerned for the past few weeks that I wasn't really "into" anything much, and have had many conversations with Knight of Wands on the subject of libidos and seemingly extinguished desires. I think that ultimately, timing and company might well be everything, because when presented with the twitching back of a beautiful woman whose shuddering gasps could be heard through the ball gag there was a twinge in my stomach. Similarly when faced with a wriggling, bratty girl who refused to apologise, something inside me needed to put her down, and put her down fast.
Both instances were about my desire to exert control and enjoy the effect of my actions, by making someone respond to what I was doing to them in a way that pleased me. I wasn't thinking about fucking them, the pleasure existed in a different place to my cunt - it was more about how I felt mentally. They both presented two different types of topping. In the former I found pleasure in her sensitivity, the smallest amount of pressure made her flex and gasp, so it was a game of building and varying the sorts of gentle impact - a pair of chopsticks were ideal for this, there's only so hard you can hit with them, they are good for drumming and have a good point. I felt connected to her in those few minutes, patiently leading her around by the sensations on her skin, concentrating on the small noises she was making, enjoying the moans of pleasure I was creating.
The latter situation there was an element of socialising going on, lots of people were watching and it became a group game rather than a one-on-one affair. Although there were people watching in the scene above, they had faded into the background once I started to play with her. This time, there was more of a circus. It all started with a refusal to apologise. I don't like bratty submissives, so couldn't allow that sort of behaviour to go on. It was fun wrestling her to the ground and pinning her, watching her helpless underneath me and her cunt semi-exposed for me to grip tightly till she apologised. It was an expression of strength and simple cruelty however and lacked the elegance of the other situation. Fighting feels less controlled, a struggle can be physically satisfying, and gets the endorphins and adrenaline going, but to the dominant bit of my brain having something offered up is more attractive.